Thursday, September 29, 2005

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.


Windom said...

good grief, where do you start to pick up the pieces after something like that.

truly frightening stuff

DevS said...

Wow. Ok.

I just sat and looked at these pictures and I am just stunned. There are no words. Especially that picture of the po boy shop, the last place I ate before I left Louisiana. God, I just don't even know what to say. Saying sorry doesn't even begin to cover it.