Katrina. Katrina. Katrina.
posted by jeremy on September 07, 2005
Ive spent the last the last eight days locked up in a three story french quarter fort with four guys, two gals, three dogs, three cats, two guns, 37 knives, one radio, one scanner, 512 bottles of bourbon, 316 bottles of vodka, 1023 bottles of beer and absolutely no idea. I have seen things I never imagined I would ever in my life see. The surreal became the norm and then things got even weirder, scarier, hilarious even, in a hysterical sense. We all had to consider killing, being killed. We had to consider these things for real. For real. For real. It was not fuzzy, distant, far off... but bluntly immediate. Upon us.
I will say more later. Right now I'm a mere 24 hours into my escape. I've travelled 1600 miles. I'm with family I have not seen in a decade. I am tired in my mind. Worn raw, scraped deep. Friends Ive had for a year are scattered to the four corners or missing. Most I suspect I'll never see again.
Good christ, we've all abandoned everyone, everything.
And this city I've come to love, its a ghost town, bleached coral, gone.
