Hurricane Ivan at 6:40 a.m., 15 September 2004. Louisiana and
New Orleans are in upper left of image. City of New Orleans would
be just to the southeast of the oval representing Lake Pontchartrain.
Image from the NOAA web site.

 

 

Hurricane Ivan

A Hurricane Odyssey

by Joseph L. Richard

 

 

     The following is an atypical account of one family's quest to dodge the effects of a major Category 5 hurricane bearing down on the city of New Orleans.

     According to the local newspapers, approximately 365,000 residents of area surrounding New Orleans area decided it best to make a run for safety. This included some 55% of Jefferson Parish, where I live. Many more would have like to have made a dash for safety, but due to the massive flow of traffic and the limited avenues of escape, they decided to hunker down and weather out the storm.

     It is assured that each person had his or her own story to tell.

     Our story is but one of thousands.

     Unless you experience the trauma of fleeing for your life during the approach of a killer hurricane, then you cannot fathom the feelings that one goes through. The trauma of sitting in an endless line of slow moving cars is to say the least -- uncomfortable. It is a horrible sensation -- much, much more worse than sitting in rush hour traffic.You are filled with dread, a sense of helplessness, and a feeling that maybe, just maybe this is the one time when you will return to a home and a town that has "ceased to exist."

     A tight knot in your lower guts is ever present as the storm begins to come ever so nearer to you and you become filled with dread and a rising sense of panic.

     Our story is not unique for many folks were in the same long line of evacuees fleeing IVAN the Terrible. This is not the first time we have been stuck in these long lines of evacuees -- nor will it be the last.

     Our story is of what we went through.

     It will probably bore you to death. According to folks visiting my web site entitled World War II Stories -- In Their Own Words, a request for me to tell the story was made by a few of those folks. These nice folks have never experienced the full fury of storms that yearly threatens the Gulf Coast as well as the Atlantic seaboard.

     After returning to work, I was sitting down and visiting with some coworkers and one mentioned that he had read an article in the local newspaper that said in effect: A shipment had arrived in New Orleans the day after the storm hit the coast. This shipment was 50,000 body bags. The shipment was to supplement the existing supply of 50,000 body bags.

     I did not see the article. Maybe he was making a macabre joke?

     Scary!

 

     After we had returned to New Orleans we had the opportunity to look over the local newspapers. The following major headlines were screaming in large bold print on the following front pages:

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

"ALL EYES ON IVAN"
Louisiana hopes hurricane makes early turn northward

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

"THRONGS FLEE IVAN"
Evacuating: Six-hour traffic jams make for slow going

Thursday, September 16, 2004

"IVAN ROARS INLAND"
New Orleans escapes the worst of wind, water

Friday, September 17, 2004

"DEVASTATION"
13 die as Ivan's tidal surge smashes Gulf Coast

Saturday, September 18, 2004

"NO POWER" "NO WATER" "NO ROADS"
Ivan's havoc much worse that first thought

Sunday, September 18, 2004

"WHAT WENT WRONG?"
Nothing, say traffic officials, drivers disagree

 

     Maybe relating some of the events of a few days in September of 2004 a few folks in other parts of this great and wonderful country of ours, just might have a little bit better appreciation of what we go through every summer and early fall down in the "good old south."

 

 

     Monday, September 13, 2004, began as pretty much any other day in Kenner -- a thriving western suburb of New Orleans.

     It was a bit different, for my wife Sue, and I had been keeping an eye on the progress of the hurricane that had been battering the islands to the south of Cuba. It was now preparing to enter the Gulf of Mexico via the small channel of water separating Cuba from the Yucatan Peninsula. This path eventually would lead this powerful hurricane to our near doorstep.

     Sue had already expressed many concerns with regards to this storm. The power of this monster was currently at a Category 4, having lost a small portion of it's punch after hitting Cayman Islands and the far western tip of Cuba. It now was on its relentless quest to find and envelop the warm waters of the Gulf.

     Sue had just returned on Sunday after a trip to see her Mom. Her aunt had come from Texas for a visit. Sue had traveled the same route that we were preparing to take and had done so in about three hours...the normal travel time including at least one short "pit stop break".

     Now we were faced with a decision. Do we leave or do we weather this storm now approaching the coast of central Gulf Coast -- or do we leave.

     The storm had undergone a number of changes gathering strength and then gradually weakening only to once again gather strength. The storm moved gradually between a Cat 4 and a Cat 5 storm...the strongest storm ever produced in the Atlantic basin.

     This storm now has both of us concerned.

     I had just returned from work on Sunday evening, after completing my long week of work. I was looking forward to my "weekend" off. I am only home a few minutes when Sue tells me that this storm is approaching and she fears that the storm is going to hit us and NOT Florida as predicted. After discussing the possibilities we begin to consider our options as we had done on a number of other occasions.

     Now on Monday morning, we begin our preparations to leave in the event that an evacuation is ordered.

     We make a quick trip to the bank and pick up some cash to take in case we get cut off for a while. Then it is off to the grocery to gather up some hurricane supplies in case we have to weather the storm locally. It seems that others have the same idea. Baskets full of bottled water and other supplies are lined up at the cash registers. We know that we will not be alone in our plans.

     Later that day, we start organizing things to take with us and begin packing some clothes. We are limited in space in our small foreign car and have to choose carefully what to save and what to leave behind.

     Sue wants to take the cats. We have taken in stray cats over the years and the numbers remain pretty much the same -- about four cats. The cats change over time but the numbers remain pretty much unchanged.

     Monday afternoon is spent preparing our house and the yard as best we can. I use a "insecticide bomb" in the storage shed to hopefully kill off any spiders that normally lurk in the dark recesses of the shed. These pests include such nice little pesky items such as black widows and brown recluse varieties.

     After setting off the "bomb" in the morning, I figure it is safe to work in the shed and take out our plywood shutters. I had made these shutters some years before and tailored them to each window.

 


Boarded windows on front of house. Each window had its own custom made cover.

 

     With Sue helping to support the ladder I had the shutters up and secured in about 2 hours and the back yard and carport area also secured shortly thereafter. This was necessary so that all "missiles" were removed. Things such as rakes, potted plants, bar-b-q pits and related items become lethal weapons in hurricane force winds.

     Images of a two by four embedded in a pine tree from Camille come to mind as I pick up the last of the gardening tools.

     Once the outside is as secure as I can make it, we begin organizing the inside of the house. We pack, get the items that we are planning to take with us together and make painful decisions as to what we must leave.

     I also took our digital camera and began taking pictures of each room and its contents and from as many angles as I could to make sure that each item that could be photographed was. The reasoning was to have something to show the insurance adjusters should we come back to a bare concrete slab instead of a house. Such are some of the cold hard facts that one must come to grips with when a storm of the magnitude of IVAN the Terrible approaches your town.

     We managed to gather up items such as clothing, medications, extra checks for the checkbook, water, some supplies that would take up very little room, some important papers in a small strong box and some tax returns from the past few years. These were some of the items we were going to take. I also convinced Sue that I was going to take my new eMac computer. This computer was compact and contained the past seven plus years of research work I had been doing. I was not going to abandon it. I would leave other computer components but not the eMac.

     We worked late into the evening preparing these items.

     We also talked about if we were going to again take our cats. We had taken two of them a few years earlier when yet another storm had approached.

     This time Sue wanted to take our four inside cats and we would leave the outside cat that was recently befriended. He was just too wild to take in the car, especially with four other cats in close proximity.

     With these thoughts of dread flooding our minds, we finally managed to crawl into bed to get a restless night of sleep.

     Thinking back in time, a flood of memories began to assail me...

 

 

     My wife Sue, and I were married in March of 1967. Later that year, I was able to get accepted in a two year college in New Orleans where I wanted to study commercial art. So we moved to the the big city of New Orleans.

     Little did I know that this move would cause us much anxiety over the coming years. Heck, I had not even heard of the recent major storm, "Betsy" that had devastated the eastern part of the city only 2 years earlier.

     Just after completing four years of troubled service in the USAF, I was young and eager to begin a new life with my new bride. I wanted to start anew and this seemed like a great way to do so. I had my GI benefits to use and I was going to get a college degree and be on easy street the rest of my life.

     Little did I know that New Orleans held a few surprises for me.

     My first recollections of the storms that are called hurricanes were back in 1957, when I was 13 and living in my home town of Eunice, in St. Landry Parish. That year another storm in the Gulf veered off course and caught Louisiana by surprise. The storm was aptly named "Audry" and she was no lady. This powerful storm was a Cat 4 with winds of 144 mph.

     According to records this storm came ashore on Thursday, June 27, 1957 at 4 a.m. and hit the community of Cameron.

 

     (Note: You can watch the progress of this storm as well as all other hurricanes mentioned in this story by opening up your browser window to the Tropical Cyclone Tracker.

Just follow the directions below the displayed map.)

 

     The storm came ashore to the south of Lake Charles, in Calcasieu Parish which is located just east of the Texas border. The eye of this powerful storm hit the small resort community of Holly Beach. The Cajun population which dominates this area of Louisiana affectionately refers to this stretch of beach in western Louisiana as "the Cajun Riviera."

     The storm caught residents by surprise and nearly 500 people in this low lying marshy area perished.

     My personal recollections is that the storm, once coming ashore veered as most seem to do to the north and east of the track. This veering brought Audry in line with my home town of Eunice.

     We were living at t his time on 6th street in this modest country town of some 13,000 when the storm caught us in the early afternoon. My Mom was at the screen door watching the winds blow and the sheets of rain slash out from the southwest. At times she would venture out onto the porch for a better look while cautioning us to stay inside and away from the windows.

     On one such venture outside, my mother heard what sounded like a tearing and renting of something large. It was large. We had a large tree to the left side of the front yard. This tree stood at least 75 feet tall. As my stunned mother watched, the tree began to slowly tilt towards the porch and in no time the tree was uprooted and came crashing down, partially resting on the roof of the porch and scaring the dickens out of my mother. She came running in and the look on her face was one of terror.

     Luckily, she had not been injured. The tree remained partially leaning on the porch roof for days until it was eventually cut to pieces and hauled away.

     This was one of the first memories of just what one of those monsters can do.

     My wife, Sue recalls the same storm. Her family lived just to the west of Eunice some 5 miles or so down a country road.

     "We started getting bad weather at daylight. We did not have any broken windows. We had no roof damage. The electricity was the first thing to go. We had really bad weather all day long...8 hours of steady storm. We flooded to the cattle guard almost immediately. When it stopped raining, Daddy walked out to see what he could see. Snakes were all over the place, being brought in from the marsh. That whole summer we had small ground rattlers (averaging about six inches in length and as deadly as any rattler). We were not allow out of the house. On our deep water well, we had a generator for water.

     "The storm hit that day and unlike many others which only lasted a few hours, this monster kept battering us the entire day. The storm pushed up a 12 foot wall of water and this is what killed the bulk of the people in southwest Louisiana. This wall of water is what pushed up the bayous and creeks and caused the flooding in the area. Most of these water ways are all interconnected. The smell of rotted vegetation was ever present -- all summer.

     The infestation of ground rattlers was so bad that they would crawl up onto the window screens. The were everywhere. It was awful.

     "It was probably a couple of weeks before we began to hear about the people in Cameron who had died and we had known some of these folks...for we used to go there fairly often.

     "When we started school, the cotton field that was eventually passed on to me by my Dad was still under water."

     Sue recalls the crops that they had planted on the bulk of their families 60 acres were ruined that day. The deluge of rains caused by this storm swelled the local bayous and creeks which overflowed. One such bayou, Bayou des Cannes is a scant 100 yards or so from the family farm house. The family was stranded and cut off for a period of almost three weeks. The only mode of transportation during this time was by boat and she recalls having to go by boat to Eunice to pick up what food and supplies they could as well as dry ice to put in the freezer.

     "Some weeks later, we eventually took a drive down to Cameron and you could still see the devastation. They were still piling up the dead animals and setting fire to the carcasses."

     This series of events forever seared my wife's memory. She knew, at the young age of 9, just what a hurricane could do. To this day she is terrified of one of these storms.

     If you think that this little horror story is unique, then you are sadly mistaken. The Gulf Coast stretches from the southern tip of the Texas border with Mexico and continues around to Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and the Florida.

     You can probably ask anyone who has ever lived on the Gulf Coast, and they can tell you their horror story -- or one that a family member experienced. If you live in this region of the U. S., then you are prone to the ravages of these monster storms. When one of these monsters approach, you simply leave. Homes, property, and personal effects can be replaced. A life cannot. You leave.

     Now presently living in New Orleans, those memories have somewhat faded. My new wife and I were preparing for the good life. We started our new careers and our life in the city affectionately called the "Big Easy."

     We were in for many surprises.

     One such surprise was in 1969 when the astronauts walked on the moon for the first time and the country celebrated this spectacular event. We were living in Harrahan which is a western suburb nestled along the mighty Mississippi just to the west of the city. We had just relocated from a small efficiency apartment in uptown New Orleans.

     We got our first New Orleans experience with the might of Hurricane Camille -- a monstrous Cat 5 storm that slammed into the Pasagoula area in the early morning hours of August 18, 1969. I vividly recall watching the weather from our second story apartment. Transformers were blowing like crazy as the 65+ mile an hour winds buffeted us. We were almost a hundred miles from the eye of the storm! The night was scary, but we survived and the experiences made for great small talk the next day at work.

     Some months following this monster storm, we took a drive towards the Gulfport area and traveling on I-10 was a sobering experience. The countryside bordering this drive is a sea of southern pine trees. As we neared the area of the storm passage, as far as the eye could see, the pine trees were all bent over at the same exact angle. No tree in view was left standing straight. It was as if some giant hand had squashed every tree at the same time.

     We had been to Gulfport/Biloxi many time during our time in the New Orleans area and this trip was unnerving. Old stately homes along the coast simply were gone. The only thing remaining was the foundation and in some cases there was nothing at all left.

     This was long before the Mississippi Gulf Coast became home to the many casinos dotting the coast for miles. The town was a sleepy, easy going tourist town with its stately old homes, old quarter of shops and stores and a long white sand beach. The beach was the main attraction. It had been brought in over the years truck load by truck load. Much of this beach had been eroded and now was in the Gulf.

     Hurricane concerns had surfaced many times in our 37 years of living in the New Orleans area. During this period we have weathered every storm to come at or near New Orleans and thus far had "dodged the bullet" on many occasions.

     We had evacuated our home on four such occasions -- each willingly and with little or no encouragement from the local officials.

     I recall one such brutal evacuation. Sue had been a patient at Southern Baptist Hospital, in uptown New Orleans. She had had surgery and was a patient as the storm "Carmen" (September 8, 1974) approached the south Louisiana area. Sue's mother had been staying with us to help out after Sue's surgery.

     Sue begged her doctor to let her go home early. He agreed to let her leave if she did NOT leave town. She begged me to take her out of the hospital and get her home to the country where we could weather this storm better than the New Orleans area.

     After finally agreeing to my wife's pleas, we made arrangements to leave our home in Metairie and make the trek home to Eunice.

     We packed up our car, taking our son Gabe and Sue's mother and headed north across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway to intercept Interstate 12 in Covington. The trip was a harrowing one from the start. We left about noon -- it was raining in torrents and the winds were picking up. The hurricane approached southestern Louisiana to the west of the mouth of the Mississippi River.

     Traffic was to say the very least, moving at a snail's pace -- but we were leaving the storm behind as well as our home, and our possessions. We only took what we could quickly throw into the car leaving everything else to the mercy of the approaching hurricane.

     The drive north to the interstate was slow and nerve wracking. The causeway was closed down just after we got on the north shore. After what seemed like an eternity the drive went onto the interstate heading west towards Baton Rouge and eventually west to Sue's parents home just to the west of Eunice.

     This drive took us at a slow crawl heading west. Eventually we managed to get into the Baton Rouge area and left the bumper to bumper traffic in Baton Rouge to the slightly better flow of traffic on Airline Highway, US 61, which runs to the north of the interstate and through towns such as Livonia, Krotz Springs, Port Barre, Opelousas and eventually Eunice.

     Here we weathered the storm and eventually made the long return trip back to New Orleans.

     While in the country on the family farm that day, we tracked the approaching story by local television. We found out that the storm was now turning towards southwestern Louisiana and for US.

     It apparently had followed us home.

     About two in the morning, I woke Sue to let her know that eye of the storm was now bearing down on us and Lafayette, some 40 miles to the southeast, was directly in the path of the storm.

     The winds blew, the rains came and the power went out.

     The weather following the storm turned beautiful and cool. It got so cool that Sue's dad had to light the fireplace.

     We left New Orleans on a couple of more occasions and one is also memorable.

     This one started with a phone call about 2 in the morning from a coworker from the hospital where Sue worked. She told Sue to get the family up and get out of town for the mayor had mandated an immediate evacuation. Again, an approaching hurricane -- this one " Elena" (September 2, 1985) had changed its track and was headed straight towards New Orleans.

     Needless to say, being woken up at the ungodly hour of 2 a.m. and having the hell scared out of you does not make for a happy camper.

     Again, we dumped what we could grab into our car and made a quick beeline for the interstate -- a short drive from our subdivision. The traffic on I-10 heading west at about 2:30 a.m. was literally at a standstill! After what seemed like an eternity, we merged with the traffic only to see headlights for as far as we could see.

     The trip to Baton Rouge was long and exhausting. The traffic moved -- if you can call it that -- at a snail pace with us averaging never more than about 5 or 10 mph the entire trip. Not once, did we ever get up to highway speed. The weather was deteriorating and it rained and some winds buffeted us as the outer bands of the hurricane passed over our passage.

     Shortly after dawn, we made Baton Rouge and ended up at my sister's house on the north side of the city -- about two or three blocks from Ryan Airport. There we were welcomed and a place of refuge offered.

     Once more, the fates seemed cruel to us. We stayed that day at my sister's house as her guest. While there, we kept a close eye on the weather reports monitoring the approaching storm. The storm went ashore on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and then headed inland passing just north of New Orleans and Baton Rouge. We watched as the winds picked up and the rains came down. While there in Baton Rouge, we were buffeted by winds exceeding 60 mph.

     It is interesting to note that as just about each and every time we have left New Orleans for shelter from the storm, the storm again turned somewhat, just enough, to FOLLOW us. This storm was no exception. The storm bore down on Baton Rouge. The city is a far piece inland from the coast and thus the storm had weakened somewhat by the time it reached the Baton Rouge area. By the time the storm reach us, the maximum winds were about minimal hurricane strength -- about 75 mph and sure enough, some of those winds hit the area of the town where we were staying.

     Our luck was still holding.

     Once things were safe to do so, we returned to our home in the New Orleans area.

     Since this trip down the road towards Baton Rouge, we have left our home fleeing at least two other storms -- only to have them swerve towards our final destination.

     This time things would be different...

 

 

     It is now Tuesday morning, the 14th of September 2004 and we are waking up at the crack of dawn. Sue had been up -- probably most of the night -- watching the approach of IVAN and as she hears me moving about, she calls to me that the storm has turned more to the north and was headed directly at us.

     Needless to say, I did not need that first cup of coffee to wake me up. I was now awake and listening to the local news as they began to spread their words of coming doom.

     The local forecasters, unlike the forecasters on the "Weather Channel" were predicting the storm to move closer to the New Orleans area and were going to catch the west side of the storm for sure.

     You need to sort of put things in perspective here. Weather is NOT an exact science. When in the air force in the early 1960's I was trained and served as a weather observer. My assignments took me to west Texas and eventually to spend a year on Iwo Jima doing upper winds aloft readings.

     Today we have wonderful ways of seeing these approaching monster storms. The radar images are nothing short of fantastic. The satellite images are to say the least -- awesome.

     Back when I was in the air force, there was little to resemble today's technology. Many of the storms I have weathered were never displayed so vividly on TV as they are today. Instead, they relied heavily on the "Hurricane Hunters." They were a USAF unit based out of Keesler AFB, on the Gulf Coast in Mississippi. It was through their heroic efforts that the forecasters, and weather men were able to make predictions of the paths of these monster storms.

     Keep in mind that satellites were still in the early stages of development and the weather satellites we take for granted today did not exist.

     We now began our preparations to leave making sure that all of the things that we had gathered the day before would be ready to go on a moment's notice.

     I did a last quick check of the outside making sure that no objects that could be flying missiles in a strong gale force wind were left out in the open. I then moved our second older car to the playground across the street. I hated to leave the car but we could not drive both cars in an evacuation attempt. Sue's bad back and the fact that we were going to be going into a major traffic jam left me uncomfortable about us splitting up. I would just have to sacrifice the second car. I placed it at the highest point around, the parking lot in the playground across the street.

     I then began loading up the car and making sure that we were double checking things before leaving.

     Sue told me that the local community leaders were getting ready to hold a press conference and each would have their say as to what they recommended their communities should do.

     They all proclaimed doom.

     All suggested everyone that could, evacuate.

     They then began telling everyone just what could be expected of this dangerous Cat 4 or 5 storm and that even though the community had taken the best possible precautions, the local levee system and drainage pumps could not deal with a direct hit or a near miss of a storm of this magnitude.

     New Orleans and its suburbs are surrounded by an extensive levee system that is of varying heights and can withstand tidal surges up to a certain degree. A Cat 4 or 5 storm would broach this levee system and push waters from shallow Lake Pontchartrain and the surrounding waters, swamps, bayous and the river over the levees. The entire system could flood. The reason for the flooding is that a large portion of the New Orleans area is upwards to 9 feet BELOW sea level!

     There are some "ridges" in the metropolitan area, but the flooding would be widespread and massive -- if we took a direct hit.

     Back in 1965, Hurricane Betsy (September 10, 1965), a Cat 2 storm hit and did flood the area. The storm was a powerful Cat 4 storm just prior to making landfall south of New Orleans. What made this storm so dangerous was the wet eastern side of the storm passed over New Orleans dumping torrents of rain.

     A good friend who lives in Arabi (New Orleans east) was a victim of this storm. He related to me that the waters that flooded eastern New Orleans reached the ceilings of his one story home. He eventually repaired the damage but all of their family possessions were a total loss.

     After listening for a while to the local community leaders talk of impending doom, our decision was reached and we finished our preparations. Sue gave the cats a travel sedative that she had gotten from the local veterinarian and we attempted to place the four cats in carries. Two of the cats, Sweetie and Sunshine cooperated and easily went into their carriers. The two other black female cats refused and fought tooth and nail not to go into the carriers.

     The decision was made to leave them.

     It was a difficult decision that had to be made. They would be wild and could cause problems during the long and frightful trip. We set them up with lots of food and extra water and even made sure that the air conditions system would be set to a comfortable setting -- or at least until the power went out.

     There was nothing else we could do for them.

     We then packed up the other two cats in the back seat of the car. Then locking up the house we bade out good-byes about 11 a.m. for what we were convinced would be the last time.


Sunshine: aka "Sunny"

 


Sweetie: aka "Booder Belly"

 

     We decided to avoid the interstate which is only about a half mile from our house -- as the crow flies.

     We headed down William's Blvd. (the main north/south street of Kenner) and passed under the interstate -- watching the cars INCH forward to the west. We headed towards the south. Reaching the next main highway heading west -- Airline Highway -- US61 -- we again saw the traffic proceeding west at a snail pace.

     We would just have to head down about another half mile and take the last resort left for us which was River Road. River Road winds its way along the Mississippi and proceeds almost the entire way to Baton Rouge and beyond.

     River Road is a truly picturesque two-lane highway that is normally a treat to drive on a lazy Sunday afternoon when you are in no hurry to go anywhere. It had many sights to behold including some of the most stately plantation homes still standing. Their grandeur is a reminder of the age of the "Old South" and many a tourist treks these back ways looking for adventure.

     River Road is also a special treat in the winter on Christmas Eve when the communities around Gramercy and Lutcher entertain thousands of folks with their annual "Christmas bonfires celebration." These huge bonfires light up the Christmas Eve sky for miles "guiding Saint Nick down the river to New Orleans to bring goodies to the kids."

     River Road is also home to many oil refineries, large hulking plants that pour the nations heartland grains onto ships bound to destinations unknown. River Road is also home to many small communities that blend into one another for mile upon mile as you traverse the winding scenic highway. At best the speed on this winding road may reach a mere 45 mph.

     Today, River Road is anything but what I have just described. It is simply our escape route from IVAN the Terrible.

     After traveling but a couple of miles, I decided to take a short detour to see if Airline Highway might be moving along at a better clip once leaving the area of Kenner. It was and off we went to now take Airline Highway. Shortly after passing the Bonnet Carre Spillway just east of La Place and before reaching event the outskirts of the town, the traffic came to a complete stop. This was our first bitter taste of things to come.

     We had entered into the "moving parking lot" and the traffic was simply not moving.

     As once before a couple of years previous, I cursed my decision to get off River Road and made a U-turn at the first opportunity and headed back to River Road. Others had the same idea and soon we were in a "caravan" of cars, trucks, campers, boat towing pickups and we moving slowly along the River Road.

     Making good time, we moved at a decent clip -- at almost the posted speed limit until we reached Gramercy. Here, I again decided to make a go at Airline Highway on my trek to reach Baton Rouge and our long journey home.

     We again made remarkably good time and pretty soon, I thought that maybe I had beaten the rush and would have an easy drive all the way home.

     Wrong!

     We finally came upon the stretch of highway that went under the interstate This is about 20 miles or so from Baton Rouge. The traffic was MOVING and at a good clip.

     So, off we go down our merry way towards our first main goal of Baton Rouge.

     Stopping for a short break to use the bathroom and pick up something cold to drink we again headed down the interstate.

     Things are truly deceptive. About 2 miles further on, the traffic could be seen to bunch up and before long we were in another traffic jam.

     The traffic stretched for as far as either Sue or I could see and moved at a crawl -- if it moved at all.


Traffic in New Orleans headed out on I-10. The location depicted is
near Metairie Road and nearing the I-10 & I-610 split. Even though the
image is in New Orleans, any location along I-10 between New Orleans
and the Texas border could have looked like this during the approach
of Ivan to the Gulf Coast. Image is from the Times Picayune, Sunday,
September 19, 2004, Sect A-1.

 

     I had once more been deceived by the short gap in the traffic. It was only a mirage and we once more were plodding along at a blistering 5 mph -- if we were lucky.

     The next exit was about 10 or 15 miles ahead and this was the exit near a large water park aptly named the "Blue Bayou" on Highland Road.

After what seemed an eternity (probably about an hour actually) we could see the exit at Highland Road and decided that this was going to be our escape back to Airline Highway and then through Baton Rouge.

     We then made the exit and located the Airline Highway which again looked free of major traffic.

     Off we went and I was elated again for I was moving at some 45 mph or so. This lasted about a half mile until up ahead the next series of traffic signals appeared. Along with the traffic signals was a long -- very long -- line of stalled cars.

     My heart sank. Once more, we were going to be in a moving parking lot.

     We were now part of the major flow of traffic moving west along any and all routes available. I began to look over the others who were now sharing my fate. There were cars with individuals, cars with families and pets and whatever belongs could be thrown in at the last minute. There were big tractor rigs, pickups, pickups pulling boats (why so many boats on the road?) many SUV's, large motor homes, cars and trucks pulling small trailers and even some buses.

     What hit me as odd was that most vehicles that I saw were almost like folks on a leisurely drive. Except for families and pets in the car, you could not detect belongings piled up in the back of the car as I would have expected to see. There were license plates from Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas among the many cars crawling along in the ever increasing early afternoon heat.

     There were even cars, trucks, etc. pulled off the road way with folks apparently taking a break from the pressures of the arduous trip or waiting for friends and/or family in other cars to catch up. The local filling stations and convenience stores were full of cars and other vehicles -- all with the same idea.

     Even passing some motel chains did not look promising for the parking lots were full to capacity and I am sure if they would have had the time, the management would have placed signs announcing "No Room at the Inn."

     The drive dragged on.

     Baton Rouge and Airline Highway are what I have always considered a nightmare to navigate.

     Years back when we used to travel from New Orleans to the country to see our folks on weekends, holidays and in the summer months, Airline was the only route we could take. The interstate was under construction and segments were open while others were still under construction. An average trip of about 165 miles took well over 4 hours. You would take the interstate until directed off to Airline Highway and then once more diverted back to the interstate to another section of completed roadway. The areas through the swamps were the last to be completed -- for obvious reasons.

     Each trip was a little shorter as a new section opened up until one day, the entire route was open and the trip was reduced from 4 to 5 hours each way to a speedy 2 and a half hours -- even stopping for a quick bite. That is progress.

     However today, there is NO progress. We are stuck in traffic and we will have to sweat out the many traffic signals in Baton Rouge.

     Sue told me that she stopped counting after 30!

     The harrowing drive through our state capital city went something like this.

     We would be in a long line of cars, trucks, etc. for what seem like an eternity as we could see a traffic signal a few blocks ahead. Eventually we would approach the intersection. Deceptive in nature, you would proceed into the intersection only to again come to a stop. The traffic was still stalled at the next intersection at the traffic signal a quarter mile down the road. Repeat this 30 or 40 times and you can picture our mind numbing drive through the city of Baton Rouge.

     Announcements had been made that all traffic signals on the route to the west would be adjusted to allow a "smooth flow of traffic" through the towns and cities. Also, the local police would be at choke points directing traffic to again allow for maximum flow of traffic to the west.

     To this I say -- BULL!

     No signals were adjusted and I saw no law enforcement official "directing traffic through intersections." It just did not happen -- or at least not during our many hours on the road.

     It may have happened in certain locations and at different times...but NOT where and when I was traveling.

     Eventually and after what seemed like hours (it actually took me two hours and a little bit) we finally could see the old bridge across the Mississippi. The old bridge was located next to the huge oil refinery on the west side of Baton Rouge. What a welcoming sight it was.

     Soon we were breezing along and crossing the mighty Mississippi in our quest to leave IVAN behind.

     Continuing along Airline Highway, we began to finally make good time. We saw others who had been in the Baton Rouge traffic jam leave the highway at the few convenience stores, and filling stations to the west of the city.

     We however continued on -- wanting to get to the country as soon as possible --while we were both still functional and not too worn out.

     It took us about 2 more hours of travel -- extra time was needed in the small towns such as Erwinville, Kratz Springs, Port Barre and Opelousas. Traffic slowed down considerably due again to the traffic signals not adjusted to handle large influx of traffic.

     It was odd to see Texas license plates in the flow of cars until I figured out why. It would appear that the folks in Texas cars were vacationing in Florida and had their vacation plans upset and were headed home.

     One particular Texas driver made a lasting impression on me. He almost hit me, the car in front of me and the cars to the side of me. It was an elderly (50's) man and woman driving a late model expensive gold colored Buick. He was apparently in a hurry -- where are you gonna go fool? Near the area of Port Barre he decided that he must have had enough and wanted to get out of the parking lot. He began weaving in and out of traffic. I had seen him earlier on and he seem more frustrated than the other drivers (if one could be more frustrated) and this jerk was livid. He was in a real hurry jerking that big Buick in and out of one lane of traffic and into another and repeating while he continued on his quest to reach Texas and home. Many a driver had to slam his brakes in order to not hit this damned fool.

     The only face saving grace was that he was doing his little act near the town of Port Barre.

     This town just about 10 miles to the east of Opelousas is a notorious location for speed traps and has collared many a wary traveler. The speed signs change from 65 mph to 45 mph in a blink of an eye and at the 45 mph sign is usually a local traffic cop waiting for the next "speeder" to hit his town. The other side of town also has another traffic cop waiting for travelers coming in the opposite direction. This small town boasts only a single traffic signal. The speed through this little town is 45 and you had best be doing it when you hit the sign.

     I do not know if our jerk got pulled over. I wish he had. I did not see him as I made my way through this speed trap. The local traffic cops must have been elsewhere "directing traffic" at traffic signals down the road.

     Lucky for Mr. Texas.

     Eventually we finally made it home and walked in the door about 6 p.m. after leaving our Kenner home some seven hours earlier and what seemed like a lifetime before.

     One of the first things that we did was to get the two cats out of their carriers and in a quiet room near the back of the house. We knew that they were also stressed out, hungry and in need of a potty after the long arduous trip from New Orleans. Both cats immediately went under the bed and hid. The stayed there most of the time we were in the country -- only venturing out late in the evening to explore and find us.

     Picking up some supper at a local trash food outlet on the way in, we ate with Sue's family while keeping an eye e on the progress of the storm.

     Each report that was aired about approaching IVAN sent another chill down my spine as well as added yet another knot in my lower guts. I had carried those intense feelings for over 24 hours now and they were not about to leave me now.

     Into the evening we keep a leery eye glue to the reports coming in. The storm still would not turn more easterly as predicted. Usually the storm pretty much kept to the suggested path. Yet IVAN made sure that it would do so in its own good time.

     A sense of foreboding played at my inner feelings.

     The next morning, we were up early -- no one "sleeps in" in the country.

     Sue and I offered to go to town and pick up some groceries and run a few errands to help her mother out for taking us in.

     While in town, we were going to stop at a local fast food restaurant to pick up hamburgers for lunch. As we entered the parking lot, the thought of this was dampened. The parking lot was full to overflowing. Cars with families, children standing around, people exercising their dogs and large groups of people heading into the restaurant quickly quelled any hopes of some "quick service." Besides which, these evacuees looked as if they needed this meal more than us.

     The remainder of the day was spent quietly visiting and keeping an eye on the local as well as the national weather reports. Family members came in and out and offered their best wishes and hopes for all to go well and the day passed.

     At one point, while I was working on my computer, Sue called out to me from the kitchen to hurry and come see something.

     The image on the screen hit me like a hammer blow to the guts. It was an image of New Orleans according to the announcer. It was water up to the level of a stop sign and was supposed to be at the lake front. I figured out eventually that was the swell that had come over the lake front area of New Orleans near Lake Shore Drive. This is to the north of the city near the Metairie border. The Lake Shore Drive does NOT have a levee protecting it. The levee is behind the roadway a hundred yards or so inland. This levee protects some of the more expensive lakefront homes of New Orleans. But at the time, I thought that it could have been anywhere along the lake front which stretches from New Orleans east all the way west past New Orleans, Metairie and into Kenner.

     I thought, please don't scare me like that.

     You have to keep in mind that watching TV in the Lafayette area, they are going to show what they are fed along the national news outlets and not necessarily what I would like to watch on TV. If I had been home in Kenner, the TV images would have been much different with each station airing different situations as their reporters found them.

     This has a most unnerving effect...especially almost 200 miles away from the action.

     I went to bed that evening watching the bands of wind and rain begin to reach out and touch the New Orleans area. The New Orleans area would be on the supposed dry side of the storm, the radar images and infra red images displayed were not promising. It appeared late into the evening that New Orleans would indeed catch at least a portion of the hell that was coming ashore.

     Early the next morning Sue and I were awakened by the phone ringing. It was her sister, Jackie -- a school principal in Slidell, just to the northeast of New Orleans. She called to recommend that we get up and get on the road as quickly as possible in order to beat the expected onslaught of traffic that was surely going to be bearing down on New Orleans. Now that the hurricane had gone inland near Mobile, it was considered safe to begin the return home, at least for Louisiana residents.

     Sue began getting things ready to go and I decided to make a couple of phone calls first. I attempted to call the state police with the results of receiving only a busy signal from the Troop B headquarters in New Orleans. After some four or five attempts, I considered this tact useless and figured that I would try a different approach. I got the number (non-emergency) of the Kenner Police Department and got through on the first try -- only to be told to please call back later, for they were in the middle of a shift change. Rotten luck.

     A few minutes later, I again put a call into "Kenner's Finest" and talked to an on duty sergeant who told me that Kenner was safe to come home. I had mentioned that my sister-in-law had told us that the Airline Highway was closed around New Orleans. He checked on this for me and told me that it was now open. When I asked about any damages, flooding, etc., he responded that they had had some downed telephone poles, some downed trees but no flooding reported.

     I asked if they had received much rain for the satellite images had indicated that the area was having some pretty heavy rain the night before. Virtually no rain was his reply. One more question -- any reports of major damage by winds in the north Kenner area. Again, the reply was negative for he said that the winds were minimal during the night and there was no damage to report. He also indicated that the downed power lines, loss of electricity was all localized.

     This sounded too good to be true. I thanked the nice sergeant and told Sue that all seemed well and hopefully we would not have any major surprises awaiting us upon our arrival home.

     The problem now was to GET HOME!

     I would imagine that quite a few thousand folks from the New Orleans area, and points south, not to mention the folks from Mississippi, Alabama and Florida were also itching to get on the road -- and quickly.

     So, we wished some hurried good-byes and packed the car as quickly as we could and hit the road about 7:30.

     After a brief stop for a couple of snacks and drinks to take along with us, we again set out to see if we would indeed beat the "rolling parking lot."

     The trip in reverse looked fine at first with a noticeable buildup of traffic as we got a few miles east of Eunice and by the time we were passing through Opelousas, the buildup was even more noticeable.

     As we neared the vicinity of Baton Rouge, we had a regular convoy in tow. No one paid any attention to speed limits posted in construction zones or out of the zones. I also did not see any patrol cars looking for speeders -- of which I can say, were everywhere.

     Nearing Baton Rouge, I notice a few cars along the side of the road as I had noticed westbound. Seems folks were taking short breaks to swap drivers, or just catch their breath prior to hitting the expected "rolling parking lot that was the Baton Rouge area."

     Tuning the radio to local stations and hoping to get traffic reports, I was disappointed. The only thing I could find was country music and NO radio reports telling us of the traffic flow.

     We reversed our outward progress, crossing the old Mississippi River bridge and drove a couple of miles further on until we came to the I-110 which runs north to south in Baton Rouge. This route also has a nice view of the Governors' Mansion, if you were in inclined to do some sight-seeing, which we weren't.

     Traffic was light heading south to where I-10 joined up. This again was deceptive. At the split, traffic on I-10 coming across at the bridge had channeled into one lane and this one lane was now blocked with a small fender bender. At least, I had made the right decision here and skirted around this bottleneck and headed for the split at I-10 and I-12. Reaching the split, things looked pretty good until I cleared the split and was firmly on I-10 heading towards New Orleans. Then the traffic came to a full stop. Not again, I said to myself. On top of the thick flow of returning evacuees, this section (which we had bypassed two days previous) was under construction for almost the entire distance that we had missed when we had headed for Airline Highway at Highland Road.

     So, here we sat, crawling once more towards New Orleans in the thick of things. About a half hour or so later, the Highland Road exit again appeared in the distance.

     Once more, I decided to abandon the interstate thinking that we would be able to make better time on Airline Highway. I knew from the previous passage to the west, that the passage to the east would be littered with a lot fewer traffic signals.

     We began to make better time on Airline -- at least for a short time. Again, traffic signals loomed in the distance and so did the long lines of cars, trucks and others headed for New Orleans and points beyond.

     Slow plodding at the traffic signals gave way to some short spurts of almost highway speeds for the next hour or so with each alternating with the other. Nearing the next decent town of Gonzales, the traffic backed up at traffic signals stretched for a couple of miles or more. I thought to myself, that this must have been what it was like heading back to New Orleans following each LSU home game at Tiger stadium's "Death Valley."

     This stop and go thing continued the entire distance that eventually got us through Gonzales -- again searching for the supposed presence of the local police force directing traffic so that it would not stall and bunch up on lines stretching for miles. Of course, my search was in vain for NO patrol cars could be observed.

     After clearing the vicinity of Gonzales, we began a run for the crossover of Airline Highway and I-10 some 8 to 10 miles distant.

     Sure enough, as we approached the crossover, I could clearly see the traffic up on the interstate moving along in starts and stops. We had taken the right road and would not be in the mess again.

     We continued on towards Gramercy -- the next decent town down the road. About a mile or two before the first traffic signal, again I spotted the thing I dreaded the most -- long lines of traffic at a standstill.

     Here we go once more.

     But, no, we had another alternate plan. We u-turned and headed down a side road that would take us back to the River Road where we would continue our trip home hopefully at a steadily moving rate and not one of a long series of starts and stops.

     River Road was sighted and the flow of traffic was almost nonexistent. Off we went and our next destination would be Kenner.

     We made the last 20 or 30 miles down River Road without mishap and after a short quick spurt down I-310 at Destrahan, we were finally leaving the interstate and our long journey behind.

     It was early afternoon when we finally drove up to our home. Looking around the outside, all seem as we had left it.

     Quickly heading inside with our two travel weary cats in tow, we did a quick look around the house to see if all was well. Our two other cats that we had left were in exactly the same place we had left them -- looking very bored.

     It seems that we had once again, missed the brute force of a major hurricane and were now in our home -- safe once more.

     Sue and I gave thanks to the fellow up there who had watched over us again on our perilous journey -- one more time.

     Afterwards we crashed for a well deserved cat nap.

     All was well with the world.

 

 

     ------ Joe Richard