DIGGING
IN
MC TRACHIOTOMY REMEMBERS HIS STAY IN NEW ORLEANS DURING
KATRINA
Go
here for MC Trachiotomy's bio.
So
may boy Danger Dan was moved up ova by his new house on the other
side the canal by then. He had been woikin on it for the whole muntha
August paintin it different shades of pink and such on the inside.
The whole inside that house looked like a womb, birth canal and
all up in there. So I went over, when the time come an tolt him,
“I don’t care how cozy it look bruh, you and Animal
Chin don’t wanna be stayin ove on dis side fu dah storm.”
He didn’t have no phone see.
Ma boy Esophaugus
Kalal, his new bride Raven and Sabrina, her sister who was visiting
from Oakland (she was suposta be back at work the Monday Katrina
hit) was gwanna go over by the hotel wit deh cats. Said we should
too .go ova witem. Could I go ova wit em, see. I figured the Pearl
would be cool, but what the hell we could ride it out cross town.
We loaded up the thangs we thought we needed along wit the three
dogs Animal Chin, Shinequa and Pablo, who just made fifteen in April.
On the way
out I get a phone call from Manout Sundown. He’s in New Mexico
stichin buttons or something tells me ta swing by his apartment
ova by Brittany and Nathan she had put some frozen shrimp up on
the fence, in a bag. So I loaded up the hot plate and a pot some
spice an nat, swing by an grab dem shrimp, right. We get to this
hight rise hotel. It already looks like a Euro train station with
all the trains late or broke down. I'm talking people, ice
chests, bar-B-que-grills, and luggages everywhere. No conductor
either. 2 of the 3 elevators broke, and kids joyriddin the workin
one. Up the stairs we go, three dogs, one crippled and all the stuff
we brought, which was addin to th mayhem of the train depot scene.
We get to the rooms drop the stuff and animals. Go check the fire
escapes and extinguishers. Well here we are, still didn't know if
the storm was gunna hit.
I fire up the
hot plate to boil the water. It turns out the shrimp on the fence
was 10 pounds of Royal Reds. MMMMMMmmmmmm. It' gunna be goooood.
I’m waitin and waitin and waitin for the water tension is
already up ya, undestand. I wasn't watchin the pot but it
wasn't boilin either. Turns out we were cookin 3 to 5 shrimp
at a time in a coffee pot and soakin them in the spice pot. Them
kind shrimp taste good with nuthin anyhow. I had brought some champagne
too. We were sittin there, waitin for this storm, eatin shrimp,
drinkin champagne, watchin Sunset Strip, 5 people, 3 dogs,
two cats, and one of the matress' in the window slot, in case of
breakin glass.
The power goes
out about 3 maybe 4 in the morning. The fire extinguishers had been
stolen, or taken into private custody whichever. They was gone.
The howling storm comes and goes by candlelight. The halls staircases
and lobby of this hotel has been trashed. I'm talking 14' sheets
of glass in the floor for the sake of the people not getting room
service could obtain the things they failed to bring with them like
liquor, chips,& snacks, money from the atm and cigarette machines,
chandeliers, tvs, glassware etc. The floor of the lobby was like
a shallow pond, littered with glass cigarette butts, mud, other
trash and screaming drunken people of all ages. The fire department
is down stairs smoke is billowing out of a 6th floor window. Still
awake, we haul ass - well as fast as we could. Turns out,
the smoke is from a bar-B-que goin down in room 637. At this point
we are completely loaded into the vehicles and the po-lice say we
gotta go back inside. We say OK and drive toward the Pearl as soon
as he round the cornda.
Systematically
removing debris, tree limbs, animal bodies, cars, etc from our paths,
we navigate this tretchrous route. Finally arriving, we find Strangebone
diligently reattaching a shutter on my front porch. We also had
found a 10'gate down, a wall or two blowd out, roofs blown away,
glass and broken stuff everywhere, the wind had pushed the barn
over. The living room full of water from the rain, these types of
things. We begin to hunker down.
Gathering
tools flash lights candles weapons supplies and a plan to get more
organized. With things more squared away, we felt more comfortable
we still had running water so we filled every ice chest, keg, bathtub
we could until it ran out. We blocked all the holes we could with
plywood and chain link fencing. Later on we went out, and around
wading through waste deep water and looters to get the Kalal things,
and secure any other friends places, which may have been exposed.
Later that night we nipped a bit, sang a bit played piano and drums
a bit, happy to be dry and together.
It's Tuesdy
now. Stangebone swings by with his solid intensity, proclaiming,
“The manager at Robert's had the national guard to force the
doors opened allowing people to get supplies, just keep the peace
and keep a riot from happening. Let’s go.” It was utter
mayhem at that store. Dark as pitch for one. People were still tring
to navigate umungst the screaming, the glass, the wetness. (This
is a recurring theme here.). Dolly load after dolly load of cheap
ass beer soda pop and snacks were out the door. Kalal noted on the
nut ailse how all of the almonds, cashews, and exotic nuts were
there, but all of the peanuts was gone pecan’. I told him,
looking at the glass, food, debris, and fluid covered floor, how
it was reminiscent of them Crash Worship days, shit was flung everywhere
people bleeding.
Each day was
a new and different expierence in the “Republica' de' Bi'
Agua”, but totally the same at different spots. Checking on
friends homes, this sort of thing, at least the ones we could get
to, some areas were ‘nipple deep in corpses of all species.
We cooked, fed the neighbors and watering them, too. Wednesday after
food, we took to drinkin some lizard drink, supplied by Sir Rubberknee
some years earlier. This turned to a twist. Inspired by the LA style
“ghetto bird” fly overs, we went out into the blackened
street and wound up in heavy conversating, drinking wine by ol’
Joe’s. He’s the elder over at the section 8. He had
a bunch of folks in the parking lot. Some were from the block, others
from the east. Everybody sorta camped out. They were waitin to be
lifted to a shelter. Much was brought to light this night.
The
next day, a flight for Sabrina had been found out of Houston, they
were down the road. They took two extras too, Lorilie and Chris
two cats, 2 Kalals and Sabrina. Looking from my window I see a city
bus rolling it’s route. Strange I thought, maybe they are
rescuing people with these? Then I see the huge golden smile on
the shirtless driver and realize the deal. Maddness. Later I saw
a more familiar face behind the wheel of an RTA going the wrong
direction laughing maniacally. He pulled over opened the doors.
We shared some cold beer and some a/c for a while before continuing
with our rutine. Over by Dangers newly painted womb, we came across
an old lady. She had some stuff a plastic grocery bag and a 2'X3'
painted photograph of her husband when he was in the army, WWII.
She was lying prone on the top of the levee in the baking sun, with
her hands all ripped open.
She said “I
just had gotten here from my house which I had spent some days up
to my waste in water, my hands is all cut. I had to get outta there.
I opened a strawberry shortcake umbrella for her, gave her a water,
broke out my first aid kit, and bandaged her hands. Danger got all
he needed, I pulled a cat from underneath the BIG ASSED ONE's house.
It was so swolled up, I thought it was a fat pitt. Her son had arrived
in this time span. Trying to wave down helicopters, we headed off
to get the wheelcair from my house so they could get to the dome.
None of the helicopters would land in the huge field at the levee
to pick her up either. I could see them looking at up through the
binocs too. When we returned with the chair they was gone. I found
a working pay phone at the French market. My pops was gonna arrange
a helocopter for to get me out. I declined for the time being. I
was helping in my neighborhood, food, water, music, moral. This
was Thursdy.
About 4:30am
I laid down to try and sleep. I was drifting off, and began dreaming
about going to Japan’s Koto drummers concert that was going
down in the park by the aquarium. The drums were going off an my
house was rumblin. I slowly came to, ta hear my garage door and
shutters being rattled and banged on. I thought maybe the police
or the guard or somebody else trying to get in. Looking up I see
flickering on my bedroom wall. “Oh, Shit my garage is on fire.”
This was not the case either. From the window I could see a huge
mushroom cloud rising in the sky, illuminated by bright white sparks
and flashes of light. “Are we under attack?” NO! “Are
doing a fireworks display at the moonwalk?” NO! “Did
a fireworks warehouse catch fire?” NO! “Somethin was
on fire and it was close. Flaming projectiles flying through the
air, crackling sounds and explosions, let me know it was serious.
I gathered my kit my papers and dogs, got Danger Dan up and readied
for another evacuation, from fire this time. Luckily for us the
wind was blowing west. Not so lucky for the whole wharf, which caught
flame, and the people downtown forced to breathe the toxic air.
The fire from the propane and chemical storage facility on Chartrese
St. gushed poison smoke for days with 0 attention.
On Friday afternoon,
a dear friend with a 3 month old pregnancy in progress said she
need to get the f*#^! Would we be willing to facilitate? Danger
has a truck you see, low on gas and nail filled tires. I needed
time to think about this, due to circumstances. However, we agreed
to take her to Baton Rouge Sat 5:00 we would be headed out. She
needed to get her deadbeat baby daddy to collect some gasoline for
the trip. I prepared for the exodus this night after watching 4
hours of this Led Zepplin DVD over by th BIG ASED ONE’s. I
was zoned out. Back at the Pearl, I packed food and water for distributing
umonst the neighbors I was bailing on. I packed what I thought I
would need on the outside.
Saturday opens
with a bright gleem. I dropped off food, water, arms, and bid farewell.
The baby daddy was lazy and weak, as we knew, so, I got the gas,
filled the truck, patched tires, and with Sir Rubberknees help filled
them with air. He also stopped the leak in our water pump with dried
oatmeal. Everyone should know a wizard. Last job was to try getting
to the Barto home. I had aquired a request list from el Tonios.
Papers, birth certificates, jewelry, the contents of a ceramic frog
on the bureau, the flying V. I stashed my 12 gauge Mossburg in a
guitar case, my granpa’s bayonet, a machete, a pocket knife
and a flash light, headed towards the uncharted region only to discover
the water still high, toxic and body filled.
Strangebone
and I are back from that mission, virtually in my front yard, within
an hour of leaving, and the malitia rolls up. They were unidentified
by name or badge # only with stickers on their truck and some insignia
on their shirts. They did not ask for identification. Instead, thrust
the barrels of M 16s and shotguns in our faces. Shouting obsenities
and threats. I tried to find out what?! Who?! Where?! The Grizzly
Adams meets Tom of Finland looking “COP” proceeded to
relieve us of all or the afore mention protection and tools. These
“COPS” looked like the “B-TEAM”, without
Mr. T. ya heard? A crew cut, M16 toting, sleeveless “LADYCOP”
with herpes sores all over her masculine mouth ask me “if
I wanted to die right fucking there?” The even more foul mouthed
and obnoxious of the “COPS", with fat red-freckly arms
oozing from his soiled wife beater T-shirt and the abosolute worstest
tattoo of a skull with too long teeth smeered on his would be bi-cep,
and a bandalero of shotgun shells draped across his gianormous beer
gut, boasted of his “kills”. 6 helpers with tax dollars
weapons stole my means to protect myself and my home. Strangebone
followed them when they drove off oogleing the booty they had scored,
and took their picture. The ramora police that were bringing up
the rear, in turn smashed him to the ground, split his head, blew
his knee out and took the camera with barrels in his throat.
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