Day Three

Today was...eerie. That's the only word I can use to describe it. It was our day off from work, so we went on a tour of the Lower Ninth Ward, one of the places damaged the most by the storm. It was like a ghost town. You'd pass the plot of land where a house used to be, and all that was left would be the front steps leading up to the door and the foundation. Sometimes there wasn't even a foundation to the house. People's entire lives were just washed away. The only places that were really left standing were the houses made of brick or stone. There is some rebuilding, but for the most part the worst parts of the area are just flattened. Driving through the devastation felt more like a third-world country than somewhere in the richest country in the world, and that's really upsetting to me.

We passed a house that had a hole torn through the roof, presumably so that the family inside could escape the rising waters. You could see the water line on a lot of the houses - always much higher than my height and usually pretty close to the roof of the house. On this one, it's right below the roof, which was probably at least 10-12 feet above the ground.

The worst part was that I felt like I was violating someone's home. On our tour, we went into a few of the houses that Katrina Corps had gutted. This was someone's house, and I was inside taking pictures of what was left. It felt infinitely wrong. This person hadn't even come back yet, most likely, and there I am violating their home. Their life.

I stood next to the place where the levee broke, and that shook me up. That darker patch of the levee is new, and when it collapsed, an entire community was simply washed away. I don't even have words to describe what I was feeling as I stood there. I'm still choking up as I look at these pictures.

We also saw Brad Pitt's pink village. Each tent represents a home that will be rebuilt completely green and eco-friendly in the Lower Ninth. It's an impressive sight - these tents are literally right next to where the levee broke. I'm curious to see what will end up happening with the rebuilding efforts there. Will they actually be rebuilt? There's talk about making the homes buoyant so that if another flood happens, the houses will still be intact.

Patrick and Spencer were telling us on the tour that a lot of people in the Lower Ninth feel like the city doesn't want them to come back. The city has been posting notices on houses there telling homeowners they have to mow their yards to clear out the overgrowth that has taken over in a lot of places. But since many people haven't come back yet, they don't get the notice. The city then mows for them and charges them $600 for the "service." When the owner doesn't pay, the city takes over the property.

Regardless of local issues like this, I could also see where the people of the Lower Ninth got that impression. What struck me the most was the physical separation from the rest of the city. You have to drive over the canal to get to the community. The city itself - the skyline, the French Quarter - seems so far away. And for eminent domain seizures to be threatened and for the government to take back properties...it's no wonder to me that the people think they're not wanted back.