Friday, September 30, 2005

Part 5D: Katrina ate my life (in pictures)

Using Mark's press pass, we got through the Orleans Parish Checkpoint to Lakeview on Wednesday. This is what we found. WARNING: None of this is easy to look at. If you thought the other photos were bad, keep going.
This is Tony Angelo's Restaurant, located cattycorner from my house, on Harrison Ave. and Fleur de Lis. Delicious. It will be sadly missed.

We hung Warren G., our dapper Halloween skeleton, on the door. See how the National Guard busted it in?

The markings on the roof indicate that the attic was searched, no bodies found, by Florida's National Guard on September 11. That means they still had water too high to write on the front of the house that day, as they would later on, and had to reach the house by boat and spray paint the roof.

The screen door was marked for searching on September 25, no bodies found, presumably by Missouri National Guard group 1.

Mark in front of our headboard, which did not move. The mattress and boxspring are across the room on my dresser and his nightstand.

Taken through the broken bedroom window.

The coffee table stayed in place, the end table moved, the sofa floated over the coffee table, the TV is on the ground, the entertainment center is warped and leaning, and the sofa is sitting in the recliner. Taken through the broken den window.

The window Lily jumped out of, broken again. The cover to the fuse box is on the ground. Everything is rusted out.

These pictures stayed on the wall but are all ruined.

A bit of humor: This is the Canal Blvd. Super Market up by the cemeteries. But that's not what it says....

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Part 5C: My Katrina devastation pictures continue...

Using Mark's press pass, we slipped through the Orleans Parish Checkpoint Wednesday to inspect the remains of our house. Here is what we found:

My computer monitor, router, power cords, etc., on the floor of the guest room/computer room.

This desk is part of a set of desks that belonged to my father and his siblings.

This is the cedar chest Mark's uncle Steve built for us as a wedding present. It was in the corner, parallel to the window.

Inside the chest, we kept our costume pieces and favorite T-shirts we no longer wore, but were keeping for nostalgia purposes. There was a brass plaque inside that I was trying to remove, but the stench was so awful I couldn't keep it open for longer than 20 seconds. I gave up.

This is the dresser that went to my baby furniture when I was little. It's on its back on top of my old daybed in the guest room.

The guest room/my office again. Don't know where the paper plate that attached itself to the day bed came from. Furniture is everywhere. That bookshelf held Anne Of Green Gables, copyright 1980, Harry Potter, A Series of Unfortunate Events, and our Calvin and Hobbes books.

The bookshelf containing our VHS tapes lost its shelves.

This was the greatest picture ever. The Dahli-esque blob on the left is my brother-in-law, Phil, and the one on the right is my brother, Geoff. Taken at Voodoo Fest a few years ago. Calie spiked their hair with free Matrix hair product samples we got at an expo tent.

It's also the only copy in existence.

My bathroom sink. That bra may or may not have been black before. Dunno.

These clothes had been handwashed and were hanging on the shower curtain rod to drip dry before we left. They stayed on the hangers. I hate wire hangers. I only use them to drip dry stuff. They rusted my clothes. Not that I could have ever gotten them clean from the canal/lake water/mold/mildew anyway.

My toilet. The bathroom was mint green fixtures and trim on dusty rose tiles. I hated that bathroom. I almost miss it more than anything now.

My bathtub. A shampoo bottle burst/leaked, leaving the white gunk. The pink flower holder was on the wall above the toilet. My mom's friend made it for us as a wedding gift. The peroxide bottle is from the cabinet.

The cabinet, with shelving paper hanging out of it.

The towels on the towel rack stayed where we left them.

The shower cutrain was a white gauzy material with white and purple orchids on it.

Mark's bookshelf, with books and He-Man figures.

That board is his closet door.

My side of the computer room. Contained all of my beautiful books and my Simpsons action figures. That big white thing in the foreground is the printer.

The linen closet. None of those towels were green before the mold set in. That purple thing was my bridesmaid's dress from Alicia's wedding.

The den. The picture frame is almost apart. That lamp has a cat bed that floated on top of it. Landed perfectly on top.

My black-and-white photographs of the city that I took two winters ago were on this wall. Two remain, none are worth keeping. Thank God for Ofoto.

Part 5B: My pictures of my Katrina-eaten house.

Using Mark's press pass, we slipped through the Orleans Parish Checkpoint Wednesday to inspect the remains of our house. Here is what we found:

My house: Pre-Katrina My house: Post-Katrina

The pantry. Anybody hungry?

The refrigerator was in that tiled wall space.

From the kitchen into the den. That's my front door. You can see where the National Guard used a crowbar to get in. The mirror, the curtains I made, and that stained-glass lamp Mark's dad's cousin made are all where we left them. Not much else is. That's my sofa. Cushions are on the floor.

A bag is on the sofa, the cushions are on the floor, the door is busted in. See the doorframe with the chain lock still connected?

The magnets and papers on the fridge are the only things untainted by the waters.

That coffee pot was in the cabinet on the top shelf. That candle was by the side door on a table. I think the olive oil may have been in the pantry. The bowl on the stove was in a cabinet near the side door. My knife block is gone, but knives are on the counter.

My fridge is turned around and on its back. Thankfully, it is unopened. Calie's sushi is still inside.

My bashed-in front door still has my Irish welcome wreath attached. Mark is looking at the ruined pictures on the wall. Still more ruined pictures are on the floor in the muck.

That's our welcome mat from the side entrance at the foot of our driveway.

Dollar weed is the most resiliant stuff around. All vegetation, with the exception of some trees, is dead. Trees and dollar weed. Apparently, NOTHING kills that stuff.

My car is notorious for its one hubcap. One was missing when we bought the car, one came off after I bumped a curb, and one broke when an idiot co-worker slammed her car into mine while pulling into a parking space at the JCC. The last hubcap survived Katrina. I may take it, sterilize it, and keep it. I dunno.

This is our Rubbermaid shed. It had two cans of paint, and empty gas can, two lawnmowers, a weed eater, a lawn funnel, and a leaf blower in it. It floated out of the backyard, around the house, and over the fence before collapsing in a heap next to the carport and our neighbor's house.

Another shot of the shed rubble.

Our favorite po-boy shop, Charlie's Deli, on Harrison Ave. A before shot can be seen on Mark's MySpace profile.

Part 5: Changing title in favor of tragic Katrina photography: Part A: Dad's pics

Using Mark's press pass, we slipped through the Orleans Parish Checkpoint Wednesday to inspect the remains of our house. Here is what we found:

That's me in Karen's hand-me-ups and my Isaac Mizrahi designer Cajun Reeboks from Target inspecting my poor Mirthmobile. HINT: when I last parked her, she was not against my house.

This is the inside of my den, taken through the broken side window. Random trivia: this is the same window Lily broke when she ran away this summer. We're so thankful we had her home again. Sofa is the big green thing. Used to be on same wall as this window. Floated over the coffee table, which stayed in place, and landed on my beautiful recliner. Front door is the big white thing behind that. It was pried open by rescuers, but they shut my screen dorr after they left. Entertainment center is leaning...stereo and stained glass lamp stayed on it. TV is face-down on the ground. That's my head with the dust mask behind the sofa. Notice that the water was to the crown molding, which, ironically enough, is molding.

This is my bedroom. That's the mattress and boxspring on top of a nightstand on top of my dresser, which is face down. This was blocking the entrance.

Taken from my broken bedroom window: My closet, full of brand-new work clothes, cute shoes, my Cannon Rebel 2000, and my camcorder. The vacuum and that folding chair are where we left them. The closet doors are warped.

Also in the bedroom. My Monet poster, surrounded by mold, and Mark.

From the corner of Fleur de Lis and 26th Street, where my house was, looking towards Pontchartrain Blvd. The terrain is covered in dry, caked, brittle, disgusting mud. Adobe, if you will.

Fleur de Lis and 26th street, looking up FDL to Veteran's Blvd. See the water line on my neighbor's house? And the rusted metal curb?

That's me in front of my house, holding my Christmas present from Mark for the first, and last, time. My very own electric guitar. The knobs were rusted. The strings were rusted, too, and had popped. It was in the case on the top shelf of his closet, but was laying in the muck of the computer room floor. Unsalvageable.

The fan in my bedroom warped. All of the fans did, but that's the only one I have a picture of.