Gulf Coast A Year After Ike

Hurricane Ike, a Category 2 storm, hit the Gulf Coast of Texas and Louisiana on Sept 13, 2008. The storm’s surge flooded the coast and caused billions of dollars worth of damage. According to residents of Crystal Beach on Bolivar Peninsula, just east of Galveston, where Ike hit the hardest, there is no official death count. Crystal Beach wasn’t under an order for mandatory evacuation. No one is sure how many stayed behind or how many were lost. Entire houses disappeared with no trace. Much of the peninsula is still uninhabited. Jean Peshenella showed a friend from New York the slab where his cabin used to be. He sold it six months before the storm and feels very lucky. A few more miles east in Gilchrest, Joan Vogel was shocked to find her home relatively damage free. It was one row of houses in from the coast. Only a handful of homes remain there. The pylons holding the house up were cracked, but her windows didn’t break, so her house didn’t flood. She now has beachfront property. Her insurance company covered the repair, but nothing makes up for her missing neighbors.

As I write, Angela Street in Arabi (just outside of New Orleans) is underwater. A heavy downpour is causing some minor flooding, a reminder of the area's vulnerability. Waiting for approaching storms when you are a property owner is no fun. Coastal erosion has added to the mix of already dangerous conditions for those who inhabit coastal areas
and low lying one’s like New Orleans, a reality one must deal with every hurricane season. Whether one acknowledges the connection between global warming and unstable weather conditions or not, hurricanes are a force to be reckoned with.

Watching people rebuild with the Gulf in their backyard and the ruins of damaged structures dotting the landscape left me scratching my head. Yes, it is nice to live next to the sea, even a polluted one. The Gulf Coast from Galveston to Cameron is polluted with all manner of contaminates. A sign on the beach at the Sabine Pass, where Texas and Louisiana meet, warned not to go into the water due to high levels of unfriendly bacteria. But a few miles further east I found people swimming and catching fish; pollution doesn’t lower peoples' desire to enjoy the sea. Why do people go back after a storm and rebuild? There's no single answer, but the concept of “home” is a common denominator. Sony Meaux of Holly Beach, LA is sixty-five and though he lost his home to Hurricane Rita and then a trailer home to Ike, he and his wife Loretta moved into a new trailer home on his lot. He reopened his seafood shop in a giant freezer and sells crabs and shrimp. He doesn’t know anything else and isn’t planning to ever live anywhere else.

The people I spoke to on Bolivar Peninsula and in Holly Beach are frustrated by new government regulations. Many cannot afford to comply with revised building codes. The new codes call for construction at costs much higher than their homes were worth. The Meaux’s were sent a certified letter saying their power will be cut since their trailer home is now an illegal dwelling. The local government is trying to force them out. Coastal communities that were made up of working and middle class people will now be accessible only to the rich. The rich aren’t any more protected in the event of a storm surge than the poor; though some of the hurricane-proof homes did make it through Ike, most did not. A mobile home can be moved before a storm, so it isn’t in danger. But economic factors dictate what's acceptable these days. If a residence has a license plate on it, the owner doesn’t pay property tax. The Meaux’s aren’t asking FEMA (Sonny says he has yet to meet anyone from FEMA) for money; they have spent their own. If the government would stop trying to regulate them, the rebuilding process would happen much faster. He is convinced the new rules are about economics, not safety.

Ike hit as a Category 2 storm. Nothing is in place to stop nature from whipping up a Category 3, 4 or 5. The big one is still an ominous possibility.

Too see a large range  of images from the Gulf Coast click here- Flickr set 

And to watch and hear what coastal residents have to say about what life for them is like a year after Ike watch these video clips 

Sonny Meaux of Holly Beach , LA who has re opened Meaux's Seafood for a third time

Alice on her slab in Holly Beach, a newcomer who bought land after Hurricane Rita

Jean, former property Owner in Crystal Beach explains what the area was like before the storm

Flood Street-Still in Ruins From End to End

This morning I rode my bike the length of Flood St. in the Lower 9th Ward, from the wharf on the riverside to the levy. Flood Street is in very bad shape. Little has been rebuilt. I passed only a couple of construction crews and a handful of volunteers who were doing some landscape- 

work. I called a friend to get a reminder of what the codes painted on the homes by rescue crews stand for. 

The number at the 6 o’clock part of the X, is where the number of dead is recorded. Zero, in the case of the turquoise home I photographed. My friend looked up my coordinates on google maps and told me it looks like a sea of blue tarps from above. The scarred landscape and homes with boarded up entry points, illustrates Katrina’s story. A telling hole in a roof of one building looks too deliberate to be wind damage. Someone must have hacked the roof open while escaping the rising water.

 I first visited Flood Street in November 2006. The irony of a street called Flood Street, was one too rich to pass by. 

The Battle Ground Baptist Church, closer to the levee where the water went over the roofs of most of the buildings, is still standing. Benches remain inside, but the mud and other rubbish has been cleaned off.

 

At 1806, I went in to reshoot a home I shot in April 2007. More of the contents have been removed and the lawn was now landscaped, but there are no signs any re-building. In the middle of the house was a picture of Jesus, that is no longer behind glass, as I found it in April, looking back at anyone who enters the empty room looking up at them. The most noticeable change since my last visit in February 2008, are the street signs. At that time most were still hand painted on posts. Now the street intersections sport new shinny signs marking Flood Street and its’ recovery.

Bike ride down Desire St.

On Wednesday I rode my bike the length of Desire Street stopping to take pictures along the way. Club Desire, at the corner of Law Street, is in a state of ruin, just as I found it in November 2006. 

There are new signs of life across the street from the club; a crew of volunteers is rebuilding a row of homes. Also new, is a housing development at the end of Desire St, a fenced in community of new homes with fresh perfect lawns, lacking any of New Orleans’ authentic style. The generic bland homes making up the complex could be found in any suburban community elsewhere in America; a bittersweet sign of progress in the Post Katrina rebuilding process.

I got off my bike and chatted with a resident who is happy with the housing development.

Desire Street tells the story of a city on the mend. However, block-by-block one could come up with different interpretations of the same story.

No faded Mardi Gras beads decorating the new housing complex yet, but in a few years I suspect one will find them there as well.

The first picture I shot that day, where Desire Street begins, is of a swan sculpture with a cracked neck adorned with faded Mardi Gras beads. 

Next a graveyard, where when I accompanied the National Guard on their patrols witnessed many drug dealer being picked up. 

Posted here is an image of one of the many ruined houses still standing and a couple of  the destroyed markets with hand-painted sings.

Elysian Fields : New Orleans

At the end of the day I rode my bike the length of Elysian Fields. From the river to the lake. Blanche DuBois moved into her sister's place on Elysian Field only to be taken off to a mental institution by the end of Tennessee William’s a Street Car Named Desire, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers", she said to the man who let her leave the premises without having to be put in a straight jacket. Much of Elysian Fields was flooded badly. Signs of Katrina’s wrath start as early as North Rampart and get progressively more intense as you approach the lake.On the ride back, I stopped at a red light where Elysian Fields intersects Humanity Street, took a picture and rode on.

Images shot July 6th and 7th almost 3 years after Katrina

Yesterday I rode my bike to the Lower 9th Ward to check out the progress since I left late February. More buildings have been torn down but I didn't notice too much in the way of rebuilding. 

I returned to the site of a school I shot last May at St. Maurice and N. Rocheblave.
The school has been torn down the the library remains intact and the rubble that was once the school is strewn about.  
I will head out that way again today in the afternoon's high sun after a day spent working behind my computer.  

To see more of my post Katrina images from a series I started in Nov. 06, click here - Post Katrina Set on Flickr