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
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The pantry. Anybody hungry?
The refrigerator was in that tiled wall space.
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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.
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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?
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The magnets and papers on the fridge are the only things untainted by the waters.
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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.
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My fridge is turned around and on its back. Thankfully, it is unopened. Calie's sushi is still inside.
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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.
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That's our welcome mat from the side entrance at the foot of our driveway.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Another shot of the shed rubble.
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Our favorite po-boy shop, Charlie's Deli, on Harrison Ave. A before shot can be seen on Mark's MySpace profile.
1 comment:
good grief, where do you start to pick up the pieces after something like that.
truly frightening stuff
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