A Hurricane Night in Louisiana

“It is 3:00 in the morning, and the wind suddenly dies. You guess that the eye of hurricane “Big One” must be passing overhead. You look at your watch again, 3 hours since the levees must have broken. Boy, the water came up quickly. You change your position, scrape your knees again, you did not know how rough asphalt roof tiles could be on your bare skin, you only have on summer pajamas. Just then you realize your children are crying, they are thirsty, they want their pets. You are glad they are not asking about grandma. You prefer not to think of her. She was an invalid, the water rose up so quickly you could not get her out in time, your heart aches, she must have drowned.

Just then you become aware of screams from your neighbor’s house. You realize they went up into the attic, as you went up onto your roof. They are trapped in the attic. Oh my God what can you do, in the mad rush from the house, you forgot the cellular phone. Then, you become aware of screams from the large oak tree in your other neighbor’s yard. Dim as it is, you realize their trailer home is demolished - gone. They are in the big oak tree, so are all the fire ants, it seems. You told him many times to kill the mounds.

Your kids scream and whimper at the same time. They are thirsty, hungry, and scared. All you have is your flashlight. You decide to scramble down the roof, dip your pajama top in the water, and then to squeeze that liquid down their throats. But as you clamber down the roof, you realize the water smells; of gasoline, chemicals, in the flashlight you see garbage everywhere. Oh my, what is happening? Then with horror you realize, the old landfill down near the bayou! The garbage is coming from there; it was also an industrial landfill. Oh will this nightmare never end? Then, there is an enormous explosion. It is from the vicinity of the local gas station. Oh no, gasoline floats on water. You see the flames spread very quickly. As you scramble up the roof again, you pray, please don’t let the fire come this way” .

From Ivor van Heerden, 1999