Mark was called to work in Virginia as soon as he could get there. My company hadn't made a determination yet, but it was time to give our friends their home back. With the Labor Day weekend only a few days away, my parents (through the amazing generosity of a friend with frequent flier miles) and I decided to meet at my sister's house in New Jersey. My niece was only 9 months old and would definitely be the distraction I needed. There was the additional benefit of being with family. Mark and I each took our waiting ticket from Frontier and decided to leave Denver on Wednesday morning.
To say that it was hard to leave Mark after all of this would be an understatement. So much uncertainty loomed over us. We didn't know what had happened to our homes, many of our friends, the pets, my car or our beloved city. We didn't even know when we would see each other again. I think I cried most of the way to New Jersey.
Most of our time spent with my sister consisted of trying to find out what was going on back in New Orleans. Looking at satellite maps from Google and trying to piece together bits of information led me to believe that my car might be toast, but my apartment would be okay. The apartment was 3 feet off the ground and 5 1/2 miles away from where the levees failed. I held out hope that all would be alright.
We couldn't find out much about my parents' house at all. They live on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain which meant they were likely spared the flooding that the city of New Orleans experienced. However, their home was surrounded by tall pine trees that could have snapped in Katrina's high winds.
While it wasn't a great idea to go exploring, my mom's brother had stayed behind during the storm and drove by their house on Saturday. The only message we got was "Drove by your house. Bad." Finally, a neighbor of my parents made it into the neighborhood and called us with the news. Four trees had fallen on their home and broke the roof beam. He was trying to put a tarp over it to stop further damage. Not the news we wanted but I can't tell you the value of just knowing what's going on. It's the not knowing that has the greatest chance of driving you bat-shit crazy.
Mom and Dad made preparations to fly back to Texas to pick up their car and the kitties. They had flown with my old girl, Magie, who was the most phenomenal traveling kitty ever. She never made a peep in the car and it turned out she was a fantastic airplane traveler as well. Not to mention, she soothed my soul and that was the best part.
Some friends in Humble, Texas - the same ones who gave my parents their airline miles - offered to host my parents and the herd of cats while they figured out what to do next. The Humble house would become a base camp for trips to get the house livable again. They decided to leave on Tuesday. My company set the New Orleans employees up in temporary housing in Houston so that we would have a place to stay and a job to go to.
I left Newark on Monday afternoon entirely unsure about my new life and armed with the only possessions I would have for another month. All I had fit in a 24" roll aboard suitcase.
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