The content of this message isn't as important as where it's being written from: my own computer, on my own desk, in my own home. The electricity is on, the garbage has been picked up, the Magazine Street bus is running, and some FEMA contractors have just put the finishing touches on my blue roof.
We're not home for good yet—my job is still in Baton Rouge, though it will return to New Orleans sometime in the next few weeks or months. But when the job moves back to New Orleans, I will have a house I can live in.
Below the fold are some pictures of my house, some taken two weeks ago, the last two taken today. The good news is that only one room was seriously damaged. Keep in mind when looking at these pictures that our neighborhood was relatively unscathed. Emphasis on relatively.
This is a shot of the exterior damage, taken the first day we were allowed back into the city. The daylight you can see through the roof boards hints at the roof damage.
Here's a piece of my roof, which we found in the alley.
This shot will give you an idea of Katrina's power. That curved bar is a steel support for a chain-link fence that was once in my backyard. When my next-door neighbor rebuilt his wooden fence, I removed the chain link, but left the poles in place. The wind apparently blew my neighbor's wooden fence against the steel support, bending it into a bow.
This is the ceiling of our bedroom. This spot is just below the hole in the roof.
The ceiling fell onto and around the couch in our bedroom. This is the mess that we spent today cleaning up.
Here's my temporary new roof: a series of blue tarps expertly installed by FEMA contractors from Florida. Being from Florida, they had some experience with this sort of work. (And for those of you who didn't know the meaning of the title of this entry, now you know.)
Finally, here's a shot of the bedroom after the cleanup job. Rather than attempting to clean the carpet, we decided to remove it. It was a shag carpet that was worn out when we bought the house 13 years ago. It hadn't improved with age. Underneath the carpet, we found a hardwood floor, painted red probably decades ago. The floor is full of white paint splotches—apparently they didn't put a drop cloth down when they painted the ceiling, figuring "what the hell, we're just going to carpet over it." Not an attractive floor, but comparing it to the old shag carpet reminded me of Mickey's comment about Rocky Balboa's broken nose: "It's an improvement."
Outstanding! Your damage doesn't look bad at all. Now if Wilma will just stay away....
Posted by: kitty | October 17, 2005 at 09:48 AM
Awesome. Does your place still feel like "home"? Are you anxious? Do you feel like a burglary victim might feel after returning home to so much damage?
Posted by: Mike | October 17, 2005 at 04:37 PM
Kitty: I agree. With the blue roof in place, the house is liveable. I'm very sorry about your damage. I just hope that this experience is a once-in-a-lifetimer for all of us.
Mike: The answer to the first question is a definite "yes." Sitting at my computer, typing out this entry and uploading my pictures, knowing that the roof had been temporarily patched, and just having finished cleaning up the mess in the bedroom: I felt at home for the first time since Katrina. I didn't want to return to Baton Rouge. Anxious? Not now. Ask me again if Wilma draws a bead on N.O. As for the third question, I'd have to say that this is nothing like being a burglary victim. Actually I know something about that, as my house was burgled back in 2000. The neighborhood certainly feels safe, especially with the National Guard still on patrol.
Posted by: Ray | October 17, 2005 at 06:35 PM