The following was forwarded from a friend. These are eye witness
accounts of what happened in New Orleans. The names have been
partially deleted.
Peace,
Marc
----------------------------------------------------------------------
> hi friends-
> We need to know something closer to the truth than
> the
> lies and deceptions which are so hard to sift
> through.
> Please read these first hand accounts and pass on to
> your own friends.
> love, bruce
>
> Two friends of mine-paramedics attending a
> conference-were trapped in New
> Orleans by Hurricane Katrina. This is their
> eyewitness
> report. PG
>
> #1 Hurricane Katrina-Our Experiences by Larry
> B.,
> Lorrie S.
>
> Two days after Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans,
> the Walgreen's store at
> the corner of Royal and Iberville streets remained
> locked. The dairy display
> case was clearly visible through the widows. It was
> now 48 hours without
> electricity, running water, plumbing. The milk,
> yogurt, and cheeses were
> beginning to spoil in the 90-degree heat. The owners
> and managers had locked
> up the food, water, pampers, and prescriptions and
> fled the City. Outside
> Walgreen's windows, residents and tourists grew
> increasingly thirsty and
> hungry.
>
> The much-promised federal, state and local aid never
> materialized and the
> windows at Walgreen's gave way to the looters. There
> was an alternative. The
> cops could have broken one small window and
> distributed the nuts, fruit
> juices, and bottle water in an organized and
> systematic manner. But they did
> not. Instead they spent hours playing cat and mouse,
> temporarily chasing away
> the looters.
>
> We were finally airlifted out of New Orleans two
> days
> ago and arrived home
> yesterday (Saturday). We have yet to see any of the
> TV
> coverage or look at a
> newspaper. We are willing to guess that there were
> no
> video images or
> front-page pictures of European or affluent white
> tourists looting the
> Walgreen's in the French Quarter.
>
> We also suspect the media will have been inundated
> with "hero" images of the
> National Guard, the troops and the police struggling
> to help the "victims" of
> the Hurricane. What you will not see, but what we
> witnessed, were the real
> heroes and sheroes of the hurricane relief effort:
> the
> working class of New
> Orleans. The maintenance workers who used a fork
> lift
> to carry the sick and
> disabled. The engineers, who rigged, nurtured and
> kept
> the generators running.
> The electricians who improvised thick extension
> cords
> stretching over blocks
> to share the little electricity we had in order to
> free cars stuck on rooftop
> parking lots. Nurses who took over for mechanical
> ventilators and spent many
> hours on end manually forcing air into the lungs of
> unconscious patients to
> keep them alive. Doormen who rescued folks stuck in
> elevators.
>
> Refinery workers who broke into boat yards,
> "stealing"
> boats to rescue their
> neighbors clinging to their roofs in flood waters.
> Mechanics who helped
> hot-wire any car that could be found to ferry people
> out of the City. And the
> food service workers who scoured the commercial
> kitchens improvising communal
> meals for hundreds of those stranded. Most of these
> workers had lost their
> homes, and had not heard from members of their
> families, yet they stayed and
> provided the only infrastructure for the 20% of New
> Orleans that was not under
> water.
>
> On Day 2, there were approximately 500 of us left in
> the hotels in the French
> Quarter. We were a mix of foreign tourists,
> conference
> attendees like
> ourselves, and locals who had checked into hotels
> for
> safety and shelter from
> Katrina. Some of us had cell phone contact with
> family
> and friends outside of
> New Orleans. We were repeatedly told that all sorts
> of
> resources including the
> National Guard and scores of buses were pouring in
> to
> the City. The buses and
> the other resources must have been invisible because
> none of us had seen them.
>
> We decided we had to save ourselves. So we pooled
> our
> money and came up with
> $25,000 to have ten buses come and take us out of
> the
> City. Those who did not
> have the requisite $45.00 for a ticket were
> subsidized
> by those who did have
> extra money. We waited for 48 hours for the buses,
> spending the last 12 hours
> standing outside, sharing the limited water, food,
> and
> clothes we had. We
> created a priority boarding area for the sick,
> elderly
> and new born babies. We
> waited late into the night for the "imminent"
> arrival
> of the buses. The buses
> never arrived. We later learned that the minute the
> arrived at the City
> limits, they were commandeered by the military.
>
> (con't after story #2)
>
>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> #2 (from a friend at the Univ of Texas. It seems
> to
> me that everyone
> should hear this -
> it's so easy to believe that it was mad
> gangs
> with guns
> roaming New Orleans as we
> have been told when in fact there is
> another
> story to tell)
>
> the following message is from an african-american
> former graduate student at UT. she, lisa moore,
> whom i don't know, is writing about what her aunt,
> denise, told her. I begin in mid-message.*
>
> the buses came and took them to the Ernest Morial
> Convention Center. (yes, the convention center
> you've
> all seen on TV.)
> >
> > Denise said she thought she was in hell. they were
> > there for 2 days, with no water, no food. no
> shelter.
> > Denise, her mother (63 years old), her niece (21
> years old), and 2-year-old grandniece. when they
> arrived, there were already thousands of people
> there.
> they were told that buses were coming. police drove
> by,
> > windows rolled up, thumbs up signs. national guard
> > trucks rolled by, completely empty, soldiers with
> > guns cocked and aimed at them. nobody stopped to
> drop off water. a helicopter dropped a load of
> water,
> but all the bottles exploded on impact due to the
> height of
> > the helicopter.
> >
> > the first day (Wednesday) 4 people died next to
> her.
> > the second day (Thursday) 6 people died next to
> her.
> > Denise told me the people around her all thought
> > they had been sent there to die. again, nobody
> stopped. the only buses that came were full; they
> dropped off more and more people, but nobody was
> being
> picked up and taken away. they found out that those
> being dropped off had been rescued from rooftops and
> attics; they got off the buses delirious from lack
> of
> water and food. completely dehydrated. the crowd
> tried
> to keep them all in one area; Denise said the new
> arrivals had mostly lost their minds. they had gone
> crazy.
> >
> > inside the convention center, the place was one
> huge
> bathroom. in order to shit, you had to stand in
> other
> > people's shit. the floors were black and slick
> with
> shit. most people stayed outside because the smell
> was
> > so bad. but outside wasn't much better: between
> the
> > heat, the humidity, the lack of water, the old and
> very young dying from dehydration... and there was
> no
> > place to lay down, not even room on the sidewalk.
> they slept outside Wednesday night, under an
> overpass.
> >
> > Denise said yes, there were young men with guns
> > there. but they organized the crowd. they went to
> Canal Street and "looted," and brought back food and
> water for the old people and the babies, because
> nobody
> > had eaten in days. when the police rolled down
> windows and yelled out "the buses are coming," the
> young men with guns organized the crowd in order:
> old
> people in front, women and children next, men in the
> back. just so that when the buses came, there would
> be
> > priorities of who got out first.
> >
> > Denise said the fights she saw between the young
> men
> > with guns were fist fights. she saw them put their
> > guns down and fight rather than shoot up the
> crowd.
> but she said that there were a handful of people
> shot
> > in the convention center; their bodies were left
> > inside, along with other dead babies and old
> people.
> >
> > Denise said the people thought there were being
> sent
> there to die. lots of people being dropped off,
> nobody
> > being picked up. cops passing by, speeding off.
> national guard rolling by with guns aimed at them.
> and yes, a few men shot at the police, because at a
> > certain point all the people thought the cops were
> coming to hurt them, to kill them all. she saw a
> young
> man who had stolen a car speed past, cops in
> pursuit;
> > he crashed the car, got out and ran, and the cops
> > shot him in the back. in front of the whole crowd.
> she saw many groups of people decide that they were
> going to walk across the bridge to the west bank,
> and
> those same groups would return, saying that they
> were
> met at the top of the bridge by armed police
> ordering
> them to turn around, that they weren't allowed to
> leave.
> >
> > so they all believed they were sent there to die.
> >
> > Denise's niece found a pay phone, and kept trying
> to
> > call her mother's boyfriend in Baton Rouge, and
> > finally got through and told him where they were.
> > the boyfriend, and Denise's brother, drove down
> from
> > Baton Rouge and came and got them. they had to
> bribe
> a few cops, and talk a few into letting them into
> the
> city ("come on, man, my 2-year-old niece is at the
> > Convention Center!"), then they took back roads to
> > get to them.
> >
> after arriving at my other cousin's apartment in
> Baton
> > Rouge, they saw the images on TV, and couldn't
> believe how the media was portraying the people of
> New
> > Orleans. she kept repeating to me on the phone
> last
> night: make sure you tell everybody that they left
> us
> > there to die. nobody came. those young men with
> guns
> were protecting us. if it wasn't for them, we
> wouldn't
> > have had the little water and food they had found.
> >
> > that's Denise M.'s story.
> > Lisa M.
>
>
> __________________________________________________
>
> By day 4 our hotels had run out of fuel and water.
> Sanitation was dangerously
> abysmal. As the desperation and despair increased,
> street crime as well as
> water levels began to rise. The hotels turned us out
> and locked their doors,
> telling us that the "officials" told us to report to
> the convention center to
> wait for more buses. As we entered the center of the
> City, we finally
> encountered the National Guard. The Guards told us
> we
> would not be allowed
> into the Superdome as the City's primary shelter had
> descended into a
> humanitarian and health hellhole. The guards further
> told us that the City's
> only other shelter, the Convention Center, was also
> descending into chaos and
> squalor and that the police were not allowing anyone
> else in. Quite naturally,
> we asked, "If we can't go to the only 2 shelters in
> the City, what was our
> alternative?" The guards told us that that was our
> problem, and no they did
> not have extra water to give to us. This would be
> the
> start of our numerous
> encounters with callous and hostile "law
> enforcement".
>
> We walked to the police command center at Harrah's
> on
> Canal Street and were
> told the same thing, that we were on our own, and no
> they did not have water
> to give us. We now numbered several hundred. We held
> a
> mass meeting to decide
> a course of action. We agreed to camp outside the
> police command post. We
> would be plainly visible to the media and would
> constitute a highly visible
> embarrassment to the City officials. The police told
> us that we could not
> stay. Regardless, we began to settle in and set up
> camp. In short order, the
> police commander came across the street to address
> our
> group. He told us he
> had a solution: we should walk to the Pontchartrain
> Expressway and cross the
> greater New Orleans Bridge where the police had
> buses
> lined up to take us out
> of the City. The crowd cheered and began to move. We
> called everyone back and
> explained to the commander that there had been lots
> of
> misinformation and
> wrong information and was he sure that there were
> buses waiting for us. The
> commander turned to the crowd and stated
> emphatically,
> "I swear to you that
> the buses are there."
>
> We organized ourselves and the 200 of us set off for
> the bridge with great
> excitement and hope. As we marched past the
> convention
> center, many locals saw
> our determined and optimistic group and asked where
> we
> were headed. We told
> them about the great news. Families immediately
> grabbed their few belongings
> and quickly our numbers doubled and then doubled
> again. Babies in strollers
> now joined us, people using crutches, elderly
> clasping
> walkers and others
> people in wheelchairs. We marched the 2-3 miles to
> the
> freeway and up the
> steep incline to the Bridge. It now began to pour
> down
> rain, but it did not
> dampen our enthusiasm.
>
> As we approached the bridge, armed Gretna sheriffs
> formed a line across the
> foot of the bridge. Before we were close enough to
> speak, they began firing
> their weapons over our heads. This sent the crowd
> fleeing in various
> directions. As the crowd scattered and dissipated, a
> few of us inched forward
> and managed to engage some of the sheriffs in
> conversation. We told them of
> our conversation with the police commander and of
> the
> commander's assurances.
> The sheriffs informed us there were no buses
> waiting.
> The commander had lied
> to us to get us to move.
>
> We questioned why we couldn't cross the bridge
> anyway,
> especially as there was
> little traffic on the 6-lane highway. They responded
> that the West Bank was
> not going to become New Orleans and there would be
> no
> Superdomes in their
> City. These were code words for if you are poor and
> black, you are not
> crossing the Mississippi River and you were not
> getting out of New Orleans.
>
> Our small group retreated back down Highway 90 to
> seek
> shelter from the rain
> under an overpass. We debated our options and in the
> end decided to build an
> encampment in the middle of the Ponchartrain
> Expressway on the center divide,
> between the O'Keefe and Tchoupitoulas exits. We
> reasoned we would be visible
> to everyone, we would have some security being on an
> elevated freeway and we
> could wait and watch for the arrival of the yet to
> be
> seen buses.
>
> All day long, we saw other families, individuals and
> groups make the same trip
> up the incline in an attempt to cross the bridge,
> only
> to be turned away. Some
> chased away with gunfire, others simply told no,
> others to be verbally berated
> and humiliated. Thousands of New Orleaners were
> prevented and prohibited from
> self-evacuating the City on foot.
>
> Meanwhile, the only two City shelters sank further
> into squalor and disrepair.
> The only way across the bridge was by vehicle. We
> saw
> workers stealing trucks,
> buses, moving vans, semi-trucks and any car that
> could
> be hotwired. All were
> packed with people trying to escape the misery New
> Orleans had become.
>
> Our little encampment began to blossom. Someone
> stole
> a water delivery truck
> and brought it up to us. Let's hear it for looting!
> A
> mile or so down the
> freeway, an army truck lost a couple of pallets of
> C-rations on a tight turn.
> We ferried the food back to our camp in shopping
> carts. Now secure with the
> two necessities, food and water; cooperation,
> community, and creativity
> flowered. We organized a clean up and hung garbage
> bags from the rebar poles.
> We made beds from wood pallets and cardboard. We
> designated a storm drain as
> the bathroom and the kids built an elaborate
> enclosure
> for privacy out of
> plastic, broken umbrellas, and other scraps. We even
> organized a food
> recycling system where individuals could swap out
> parts of C-rations
> (applesauce for babies and candies for kids!).
>
> This was a process we saw repeatedly in the
> aftermath
> of Katrina. When
> individuals had to fight to find food or water, it
> meant looking out for
> yourself only. You had to do whatever it took to
> find
> water for your kids or
> food for your parents. When these basic needs were
> met, people began to look
> out for each other, working together and
> constructing
> a community.
>
> If the relief organizations had saturated the City
> with food and water in the
> first 2 or 3 days, the desperation, the frustration
> and the ugliness would not
> have set in. Flush with the necessities, we offered
> food and water to passing
> families and individuals. Many decided to stay and
> join us. Our encampment
> grew to 80 or 90 people. From a woman with a battery
> powered radio we learned
> that the media was talking about us. Up in full view
> on the freeway, every
> relief and news organizations saw us on their way
> into
> the City. Officials
> were being asked what they were going to do about
> all
> those families living up
> on the freeway? The officials responded they were
> going to take care of us.
> Some of us got a sinking feeling. "Taking care of
> us"
> had an ominous tone to
> it.
>
> Unfortunately, our sinking feeling (along with the
> sinking City) was correct.
> Just as dusk set in, a Gretna Sheriff showed up,
> jumped out of his patrol
> vehicle, aimed his gun at our faces, screaming, "Get
> off the fucking freeway".
> A helicopter arrived and used the wind from its
> blades
> to blow away our flimsy
> structures. As we retreated, the sheriff loaded up
> his
> truck with our food and
> water. Once again, at gunpoint, we were forced off
> the
> freeway. All the law
> enforcement agencies appeared threatened when we
> congregated or congealed into
> groups of 20 or more. In every congregation of
> "victims" they saw "mob" or
> "riot". We felt safety in numbers. Our "we must stay
> together" was impossible
> because the agencies would force us into small
> atomized groups.
>
> In the pandemonium of having our camp raided and
> destroyed, we scattered once
> again. Reduced to a small group of 8 people, in the
> dark, we sought refuge in
> an abandoned school bus, under the freeway on Cilo
> Street. We were hiding from
> possible criminal elements but equally and
> definitely,
> we were hiding from the
> police and sheriffs with their martial law, curfew
> and
> shoot-to-kill policies.
>
> The next days, our group of 8 walked most of the
> day,
> made contact with New
> Orleans Fire Department and were eventually
> airlifted
> out by an urban search
> and rescue team. We were dropped off near the
> airport
> and managed to catch a
> ride with the National Guard. The two young
> guardsmen
> apologized for the
> limited response of the Louisiana guards. They
> explained that a large section
> of their unit was in Iraq and that meant they were
> shorthanded and were unable
> to complete all the tasks they were assigned.
>
> We arrived at the airport on the day a massive
> airlift
> had begun. The airport
> had become another Superdome. We 8 were caught in a
> press of humanity as
> flights were delayed for several hours while George
> Bush landed briefly at the
> airport for a photo op. After being evacuated on a
> coast guard cargo plane, we
> arrived in San Antonio, Texas.
>
> There the humiliation and dehumanization of the
> official relief effort
> continued. We were placed on buses and driven to a
> large field where we were
> forced to sit for hours and hours. Some of the buses
> did not have
> air-conditioners. In the dark, hundreds if us were
> forced to share two filthy
> overflowing porta-potties. Those who managed to make
> it out with any
> possessions (often a few belongings in tattered
> plastic bags) we were
> subjected to two different dog-sniffing searches.
>
> Most of us had not eaten all day because our
> C-rations
> had been confiscated at
> the airport because the rations set off the metal
> detectors. Yet, no food had
> been provided to the men, women, children, elderly,
> disabled as they sat for
> hours waiting to be "medically screened" to make
> sure
> we were not carrying any
> communicable diseases.
>
> This official treatment was in sharp contrast to the
> warm, heart-felt
> reception given to us by the ordinary Texans. We saw
> one airline worker give
> her shoes to someone who was barefoot. Strangers on
> the street offered us
> money and toiletries with words of welcome.
> Throughout, the official relief
> effort was callous, inept, and racist. There was
> more
> suffering than need be.
> Lives were lost that did not need to be lost.
> ----
>
>
>
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