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. > ---- > > > ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Get fast access to your favorite Yahoo! Groups. Make Yahoo! your home page http://us.click.yahoo.com/dpRU5A/wUILAA/yQLSAA/JjtolB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~-> To subscribe, send a message to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Or go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FairfieldLife/ and click 'Join This Group!' Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FairfieldLife/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/