Dispatch From New Orleans

New Orleans House Colors: Lower 9th Ward: Holy Cross

This is supposedly the first Katrina Cottage built in New Orleans after the storm. The plans and materials came from Lowe's and a local contractor working for the Preservation Resource Center put it together. There were great hopes for these little homes as an alternative to formaldehyde-poisoned trailers for quick homes for hurricane victims. But this house only just sold — for under $90,000 — and it's four years after the levees failed. The standing-seam metal roof is awfully cute, though.

The exterior colors on this modest home include:

Siding, porch deck and steps: Tan

Trim and railing: White

Doors and porch ceiling: Bright blue

Let's get those houses jacked up, people!

Just in case the levees fail again, like they did following the relatively mild-mannered Hurricane Katrina, the best defense against losing one's house and possessions to flooding is to elevate the house in advance. It's required by many codes and rebuilding programs. And yet, some homeowners are skirting those rules. I heard that some 2,000 homeowners have done just that and I imagine the number is higher than that.

Why would someone choose not to elevate their home in such an environment? It's the cost, of course. And, as one woman was quoted on the TV newscast, she doesn't like the way elevated homes look. And I'll admit, some of them look goofy and awkward. But some of them, like the one above, look downright elegant, like a rich person's Florida house.

So I've become interested in photographing as many good-looking elevated homes as I can find, and this is the first one. The benefits are many. You get lots of covered parking underneath. And think of your views! Normally the neighbors get cranky when the top of your house towers above all others in the neighborhood. But if you're raising your house because it's required by code, who's to complain? Of course, when every house is elevated, the views won't be as striking. And that's a good a reason as any to become the first on one's block.

When you live in New Orleans . . .

When you live in New Orleans . . . you hope and pray the coming hurricane will miss your beloved city, not really thinking about how it will wreak havoc on someone else's. (Read the latest.)

The upside of a mild hurricane — #2

If a fence has weak poles, that fact may be revealed during a mild hurricane.

By the way, this house is for sale with a listing price of $162,000 (though it's been on the market for some time so I think you could make a deal). The exterior isn't too exciting, but it's got a nicely remodeled kitchen. See it here.

The upside of a mild hurricane — #1

You get to see which trees have shallow roots.

Time to pour the wine in New Orleans

According to Ariane at 4 p.m. CST:

I just got the best news yet. A friend who stayed in New Orleans during Gustav sent me a text to report, and I quote, "Cooking crawfish pasta and drinking a lot of wine." Sounds like people on the ground feel confident that the worst has passed.

And at 7 p.m. CST, here's the final storm posting from Ariane:

As was reported on the local WWL-TV website: "Water was roughly six feet below the top of the floodwall on the west side of the Industrial Canal. Street flooding on and around Poland Avenue between the Claiborne Avenue and Florida Avenue bridges had receded completely."

Fearing that somehow I'd jinx our frazzled city, I've been afraid to say what I felt for the past hour or so: It appears that New Orleans has dodged Gustav. What we considered to be little more than a deck of cards -- the levees -- seem to have held.

I'm physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. And I'm thirsty. I have a big bottle of red wine with my name on it. Time to rejoice!

Stay tuned for another posting in the next few days as Ariane comes back home to the Lower Ninth Ward and finds out how her house fared in the storm.

Mack, the Village, and the Lower 9th Ward

If you hang out long enough in the Lower Ninth Ward, you're bound to come into contact with Mack, who has created the Lower Ninth Ward Village, a gathering, community and workspace in the area.

Check out this piece with Jimmy Carter in the Lower Ninth Ward and New Orleans in general. You'll see Mack and the Village (green building) one minute and 15 seconds into the video. Mack's in the hat, thanking Carter for coming by. Then, read Ariane's thoughts below:

Ariane's thoughts:

As we sit glued to the TV, just like millions of Americans, my thoughts turn to a conversation I had with a neighbor late Saturday night.

Standing under the streetlight in front of my home in Holy Cross, my neighbor Mack and I tried to soothe each other's nerves. Like me, Mack was prepared to stay. He wanted to be able to help rescue our neighbors if the Lower Nine flooded again. But after hearing Mayor Ray Nagin say the storm had veered east, had grown to a Category 5 and was "The Mother of ALL Storms," Mack, and I, decided it best to leave.

We both figured the Mayor was exaggerating, and thank God he was, but we didn't want to stick around to find out first hand.

Even though Mack knew it was time to go, he didn't want to. He feared that he wouldn't be able to get back into the city, that we'd be prohibited from entering the Lower Nine for weeks or even months. (The
Lower Ninth Ward was the last area of New Orleans to reopen after Katrina. It wasn't until May 2006, a good nine months after the storm, that residents were allowed to do more than "look and leave.")

To help convince Mack to leave, and to ensure that he'd be able to return, I gave him a handful of plastic ID sleeves along with shirt-pocket clips to make any type of badge he deemed necessary to get past the road blocks and into the neighborhood.

Mack wasn't always a neighborhood leader. He has a past, a past that today gives him the fortitude and the authority to convince people that by working together, we can do more than survive. We can thrive.

He preaches unity in the Lower Nine. We must bridge the historical divide that has kept so many black and white residents divided. Lower Nine and Holy Cross must work together, he preaches, paraphrasing Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., otherwise we perish as fools.

Like so many other people, myself included, Mack was riddled with anger, frustration and depression in the months following Katrina. The lack of government response made him bitter. In the grips of this rage against the system, he had a vision: "Stop waiting on the government to help. They're not going to. Step up and do it yourself."

Today, Mack tells us, "We are the ones we've been waiting for."

For the past year or so, Mack has been working with neighbors and volunteers to rebuild a warehouse as a community center. He's named it the Village because, like Hillary Clinton's book proclaims, it takes a village.

Mack and I hugged about a dozen times before we parted ways. I was so afraid it'd be months before we meet again, I didn't want to let him go.

Standing under that streetlight, we made a pact: Whatever happens, we will return, and we will rebuild.

Update from Ariane

An update from Ariane at 1:05 p.m. CST:

Thank God for Gov. Bobby Jindal. He's clear, concise and calm, cool and collected. A true leader in a time of crisis.

According to his most-recent briefing, the levees are holding, but the Industrial Canal on the Upper Ninth Ward side is still over topping. The worst could come on the back end of the storm later this evening. So we're not out of harm's way yet.

So far, no flooding in the Lower Nine. And yet, I can't stop thinking about my friends and neighbors there in the Holy Cross neighborhood. Over the past three years since I returned to New Orleans after Katrina, bought a house, and made the Lower Nine my home, these people have taught me what real courage and conviction looks like. They have worked from can't see morning to can't see night for three years straight, rebuilding their homes, their community, their beloved city. Many of them have had little more than their own hard work and heart to sustain them. And yet, they never wavier.

With the help of an army of volunteers from across the country and the world, they are determined to rebuild safer, stronger and smarter. They are true pioneers and true leaders. An inspiration.

We survived Katrina. We will survive Gustav.

For more info on the storm, check out Help Holy Cross.

(Photo: The Times-Picayune)

Dispatch from Ariane, taking refuge in Alabama

We've been following Ariane as she shores up her Lower Ninth Ward home before the hurricane season. It's here. It's now.

Here's what Ariane wrote this morning:

Hurricane Gustav is hitting New Orleans and South/Central Louisiana as I write. Like the vast majority of people living in the region, I evacuated. Hunkered down on the east bank of the Mobile Bay, watching the news, waiting for the storm to pass, and praying that the levees hold.

So far, so good. Gustav weakened and veered west just before hitting land, as so many other hurricanes have in New Orleans' history. Turned right or left at the last minute, sparing the city. It happens so often, people have come to expect it.

"It won't hit the city," they proclaim with the confidence of a prophet. "It's heading west" -- or east, anywhere but here.

Problem is, the city is so vulnerable, so weakened by Katrina, that we don't need a direct hit to cause havoc. You'd think we'd know that by now, after Katrina. Most do, but there's always a few who stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the threat.

My good friend Kelley just came in the room. "Did you see the news?"

(I don't have cable on the TV in the bedroom where I'm writing, so I can only see local, Alabama news.)

"No," I say with the kind of trepidation that you feel when the phone rings at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday. "What's wrong?"

"They're reporting water coming over the Industrial Canal levee in the Upper Ninth Ward near Claiborne Avenue."

F**k. Damn. S**t. NO!

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, please, please, please NO. Don't let the city flood again. Not this soon. We can't handle it. We're still on our knees from Katrina. Give us a little more time to catch our breath. Please."

I've been worried about the Upper Ninth since Thursday, when The Times-Picayune published a front-page story detailing weak spots in the levees surrounding the greater New Orleans area. They reported that an 1,800 foot stretch of levee on the Upper Nine side of the Canal was The Number One weak point in a levee system still not fully rebuilt in the three years since....

The paper reported that the Army Corps of Engineers were reinforcing the levee with 3,000 lb. sand bags.

"F**king sand bags?!" I remember thinking. "Really? You've got to be kidding me. Are they also using bubble gum and duct tape to seal the reported cracks on the Lower Nine side of the levee?!"

Both Kelley and Beau, along with the vast majority of my closest friends, live in the Upper Nine. If this breach is true, if water is pouring over the levee at Claiborne, it could be catastrophic for them, just as Katrina's breaches were catastrophic for the Lower Nine.

I guess it's time to venture downstairs to the cable news to find out.

No need. I just looked up at the tiny TV with the local news to see water flowing over a levee in New Orleans. God help us.

10:15 a.m. Just came upstairs from watching cable. Water is pouring into areas of the city. Looks like Upper Nine and an area near the lake.

I'm physically shaking. My stomach is churning. The anxiety is unbearable.

10:53 a.m.

I can't stay out of the bathroom. My nerves are terrible. Glued to the TV. Watching water spill over Industrial Canal. Praying the damn levee holds. Please God. Please.

CNN is reporting that the Lower Nine is flooding. But they may be wrong. The images looked like they are from the Upper Nine.

Kelley has turned away from the TV. "Oh, God, " she says holding her hands to her head. She opened a beer about an hour ago, as soon as we got the first reports about the levees.

I'm still on coffee, but the beer is looking better with every passing minute.

Why is the media focusing on the French Quarter?! the safest part of the city. What's happening with the Industrial Canal? On the west bank? Why can't we get some news?

Kelley's mom just got 870 AM on the radio. Gordan Roberts has a caller from Lakeview reporting power outages but no water, yet.

CNN reports the Corps says the levees are holding. But we're watching water overtop the IC levee. We know from Katrina this is how it starts. First the water overtops. Then the levee breaches. I fear the worse is yet to come.

11:26 a.m.

We just lost power in Mobile, but Kelley's parents have a generator, so hopefully I won't loose the Internet connection.

What a powerful force! (not the hurricane, a free press)

Perhaps it was two weeks of focus on China during the Olympics, and exposure to a government-controlled flow of news, that has renewed in me awe of our country's free press.

To witness the value and power of our independent news media, check out the Times-Picayune hurricane-tracking website.

With minute-by-minute reporting on Hurricane Gustav, from all over the New Orleans area, you can see why this team won Pulitzer Prizes three years ago. Thank you Times-Picayune reporters, editors and photographers.

P.S. If this storm turns out to be a lightweight, remember this when thinking about people who refused to evacuate during Katrina. They were told to evacuate numerous times in the years prior to Katrina, times when the coming hurricane was less intense than feared, and so when Katrina was on the way, they thought: yeah right, more overblown hysteria. It's a dilemma for government and news media alike. Do you scare the heck out of people so they'll leave (and to up your own profile, exposure and ratings)? Or do you temper your comments? There's no clear-cut answer.

(Photo: Times-Picayune)

Live Q&A about coming storm

Ever wonder what it's like to be in New Orleans with potentially the biggest hurricane since Katrina aiming at you? Ever hunger for more than a sound bite or two from residents on the nightly news?

Check out this live Q&A from the Times-Picayune with hurricane expert Mark Schleifstein. While reading the questions from residents, you really get a sense of what they're thinking and feeling right now: Whether or not to leave home? When to leave home? Which way to head?

The good news is, you get a feeling that things are being done differently this time around as all eyes are on the region.

Check out the latest news at the Times-Picayune New Orleans Hurricane Center.

(Photo: HurricaneKatrina.com)

In advance of Gustav, a city gets tense

Friday, the 29th, was already set to be a meaningful day, being the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina making landfall.

(FYI: In New Orleans, Katrina is often referred to as "The Storm" or "The Storms," with the latter including Rita, which came after. No proper names needed; folks know what you're talking about.)

Now, with Hurricane Gustav hovering near Cuba and acting like it wants to enter the Gulf of Mexico, the end of this week is getting more intense than expected.

The hurricane could veer off or lose steam or otherwise not make its way to New Orleans. Hurricanes are funny that way. The good news is, you are given lots of warning, unlike earthquakes in my home state of California. Imagine how much easier it would be to handle earthquakes if we had five days notice.

If New Orleans citizens are ordered to leave, one hopes they do so. And after what happened in 2005, they are more likely to take an evacuation order seriously. When officials say something to the effect of "If you stay, you're on your own," we all know that is not an empty threat.

For folks who are going to "ride out the storm," here's what we know now that we didn't know so vividly three years ago:

• The levees could breach again. And that means houses may flood. And that means citizens might be spending the night or several nights on the roof or trapped on upper floors or balconies.

• If an attic is the escape plan in case of flood, there needs to be a hatchet up there and someone strong enough to swing it through the ceiling and roofing so you can get out. That's not easy.

• If someone has a blow-up mattress or raft, getting that out of the closet would be wise.

• It's good to stock up on bottled drinking water, soda, beer, whisky or whatever floats the boat (metaphorically speaking), because as we know, a rescue might be several days out.

And if another big one hits, clean up will start right away. As I heard from the recently deceased Randy Pausch, author of The Last Lecture, we are given troubles and roadblocks in life so we can prove how much we want something. We want New Orleans to survive and thrive. This bump in the road will not end that.

Check out the latest news at the Times-Picayune New Orleans Hurricane Center.

(Photo: Times-Picayune)