Muncie Times, Muncie, Delaware County, 15 September 2005 — Page 5

The Muncie Times • September 15, 2005 • Page 5

continued from page 1 go home “because just in case the hurricane turned out to be headed our way” we would be able to get up early enough to evacuate. Unappreciative at the time of his common sense approach, I reluctantly headed back down Bourbon Street, pushing my way through the bustling crowd that had still not thinned out despite the early morning hour and Hurricane Katrina’s impending arrival.

At approximately 8 a.m., I awoke to my mother’s phone call. “Runako - you really need to get out of there. All of the reports say that the hurricane is headed your way. If you cannot leave, then you need to go to the Superdome because they are taking evacuees there.” She could tell that I was still groggy as I dismissed her warning. My mom, like the weather reporters, is an alarmist. So I appeased her by telling her I would leave later but that I had been out to Bourbon Street last night and was tired. Minutes later, at my mother's urging no doubt, my father called and repeated the same warning. Finally, I decided to turn on the television and pay a little more attention to the forecasts. Attentive but not yet worried, I made breakfast and continued to watch the news. After I finished eating, I threw three pairs of pants, three shirts and a pair of sneakers and a book to read

into a bag and headed out of the door. As I left my building, I noticed that all of my neighbors were gone and the street was unusually and eerily empty and quiet. Even the main street, that was full of people the day before, was completely abandoned. As I glanced to my left, I noticed one vehicle in the parking lot of a neighboring apartment complex. When I looked closer, I could see that the vehicle

was packed with belongings and observed the driver hurriedly hop into her late model vehicle and prepare to leave. We were apparently the two last evacuees on my street. Finally, a sense of urgency and fear came over me as I realized that this could really be serious. An unexplainable feeling, somewhere between doom and panic, thrust me into rush mode and I could not get out of my driveway fast enough. As I left. 1 observed a lone straggler sitting on the steps of the same apartment complex next door, appearing unusually relaxed, while chatting on a cell phone and eyeing the two of us leave. I wondered who he was, what he was doing, why he was not evacuating and almost prophetically, pondered whether I should grab my valuable things, just in case he decided to take advantage of the now empty neighborhood. Deciding against this tedious task at

such a late hour, I hopped into the car, without a particular destination in mind and no hotel reservation. Anticipating a lengthy trip in bumper-to-bumper traffic, 1 tried to think of the positives of evacuating -1 could dress like a bum for a couple of days, 1 might be able to avoid trying a complicated case that was set for trial that Tuesday and I would be able to do some leisure reading, something that I had not been able to do for the past year since beginning my job as a prosecutor in Orleans Parish, New Orleans, La. Instead of heading west, towards Baton Rouge, Alexandria and other western Louisiana cities, like the majority of evacuees, I decided to go east towards Atlanta, Ga., thinking that there would be less traffic. Even the usually 20-minute trip to eastern New Orleans took about 2 hours. Unfortunately, I was wrong about this route being a road less traveled and my initial predictions regarding the trip began to unravel all over again, just like the last time I had evacuated. Once out of Louisiana, I began looking for a hotel. There were no vacancies anywhere and I almost began to appreciate the hotels that had scrawled “no vacancies” on a piece of paper and taped them to the

door. At least that saved me the trouble of getting out of the car when I was already bedraggled and tired, only to

be turned away by a helpless desk agent. Each time I was turned away I would get into my car more frustrated than the last time. To make matters worse, I noticed with growing sense of alarm, that no matter what city I drove into, away from New Orleans, whether it be somewhere else in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi or Georgia, the warning was the same. In varying Southern accents, there was a Category 5 hurricane heading toward the Gulf of Mexico. A mandatory evacuation or curfew was in place and there was a long list of church and school shelters available for people unable to evacuate. Many of the roads were dark, empty and narrow. I could feel the wind picking up speed as the night wore on and my eyes grew heavy. Finally, after driving for 14 hours and stopping at no less

than 15 hotels, at 3 a.m. Monday (Aug. 29), I found a room in Prattville, Ala., just outside of Montgomery,

Ala. Alter a hard earned night’s sleep, I woke up at about 10 a.m. and was somewhat relieved to learn that New Orleans did not suffer a direct hit and that Hurricane Katrina had veered to the left at the last minute. I figured I would be in my hotel for another night or so and then head back home, . just in time for my trial. And then Tuesday came. When I turned on CNN. MSNBC and FOX. I heard the news. Two of the levees had broken and New Orleans was flooding. I was surprised since it did not seem as though New Orleans had borne the brunt of the storm; nonetheless, I was convinced that someone would begin repairing the levees immediately. But as I sat there, glued to the television set, it became apparent that the levees were not being repaired and water was just gushing into the city. I could not believe what was happening to the city that I had called home for 6 years, beginning with my 3 years as a Tulane University Law School student, my 2 years as a law clerk to two judges, and this past year as a prosecutor in the New Orleans District Attorney's Office . I was watching television images of houses with water up to the rooftops; residents stranded on top of their homes; thousands of people stuck inside of the Superdome, which by now was a circular island surcontinued on page 11