refugees

I can’t do any clever writing tonight. Just the facts. Let’s see. Where were we.
My married brother lost his job because the Catholic high school where he worked is under six feet of water and won’t open before January. In January they’ll need him, but in the meantime he is having to look for work where he is now. Fortunately he is a teacher and teachers are in demand right now, to handle the overflow of refugee students, so I think he’ll be fine. I haven’t been able to talk to him yet. His houses are in an area that appears not to have flooded badly.
My sister’s ex-husband was kind enough to drive by her North Shore house and then let her know that a tree fell smack into the roof. She’s mad because he didn’t put a tarp over the hole or anything, but he’s about as handy as I am so I can’t blame him. However, every day it rains, my sister is worried her stuff is being ruined, and she’s frustrated because she can’t do a damn thing about it. Yeah, it’s only stuff, but when you’re an underpaid teacher and a single mom, money is tight and how are you going to replace all of that? Not to mention the unreplaceable items.


Some neighbors of my parents rode out the hurricane in their house. I don’t think that was the smartest idea, but let’s face it: most people had no idea what would actually happen. Anyway, they are all fine and they walked down the block to my parents’ house, which is also miraculously fine. A tree fell in the driveway and knocked down some power lines, but the house is dry and has no major damage. The neighbors report that they have running water and their son who lives nearby even has electricity. So my parents’ house looks relatively unscathed.
I talked to my youngest brother last night, who is a student at LSU. One semester to go, and everything in upheaval. He moved out of his apartment because his roommate’s whole extended family was in there and it was getting crazy. He’s currently staying with my great-uncle, who has a small house not far from campus … it’s just the two of them right now. I don’t think he’ll want to stay with my uncle all semester (and who knows if my uncle will need to house other people).
My brother made me laugh. When I talked to him, the plan to open Jeff Parish to residents for a few hours on Monday to get their stuff had not yet been cancelled. He was working out a strategy to get the biggest vehicles he could borrow to my parents’ house so he could move out as much stuff as possible. He wants to try to rescue my dad’s car too if it’s salvageable. He is developing this intricate plan that I told him sounds like the beginning of Bottle Rocket. He would be Owen Wilson in that scenario. I swear, it’s like he’s plotting to loot my parents’ house. He collected a lot of Star Wars and other memorabilia over the years and he wants to get it out. I asked him to make a detour to pick up the family movies on videotape, and he’s working that into the plan too.
The whole thing is providing him with a welcome distraction in a rotten situation and I can’t blame him. Too bad he can’t get in there on Monday; no one has a definite date scheduled yet for Jeff Parish residents to get to their homes.
My parents, my sister, and my niece are still at my aunt and uncle’s in Alabama. There was some thought that they might have to move back to the other relatives in Alabama to accommodate other relatives who also needed a place to stay, but thankfully my aunt and uncle insisted that they could make room for everyone. My niece doesn’t quite understand what’s going on and wants her daddy and is cranky a lot. I can’t blame her.
My grandparents lasted exactly one night at the other relatives’ house in Alabama. My uncle got into a dispute with my grandmother and my grandparents are now in a hotel. The current thinking is that maybe my nearby cousin will move out of her apartment and let my grandparents stay there, and she’ll stay with her parents. Those relatives are also taking care of my parents’ cats, for which we are all very grateful.
Okay, I just got off the phone with my sister. I ought to rewrite this whole entry, but instead I’ll just update.
My married brother has a job teaching at a Catholic school in Houston. He can stay with his wife’s brother, but his family will have to stay behind until … if … they can find somewhere for everyone to stay in the Houston area.
My grandparents are still staying at a hotel and it turns out they like the hotel very much. A church group brought lunch to all the La. people in the hotel today, my grandmother got her hair done at JC Penney’s, they bought some more clothes. They are probably more active than they were at home. Their house was near a levee breach and the odds that it will be liveable are very slim, but my dad has a plan for finding them a condo. Or who knows, maybe they’ll stay where they are, since they seem to be enjoying it.
Three of my uncles and a cousin’s husband on the North Shore got a giant tarp and went to my sister’s house to put it over the hole in the roof. The miracle here is not that we found people to help, but that these four guys (who don’t always get along very well) worked together without anyone killing anyone else.
My dad is planning to go to my sister’s house in a couple of days and rumor has it he may try to look at his own house (and my brother’s houses) even though he’s not supposed to be in Jeff Parish. I’m not real happy about that. I hope someone persuades him to wait.
Oh, and my parents/sister/niece all moved from my aunt and uncle’s house to my cousin’s house around the block. I think the other house was a little too full of people and my niece was getting fractious. Poor kid. She got to talk to her dad on the phone but it’s not the same. At least she’s staying at a house with a pool and a cat that my sister says rivals our cat Rufus in terms of cuteness.
My sister is worried because she has a stack of bills and no sign of a paycheck, but my parents can help her and she can file for unemployment and it’ll all straighten out sooner rather than later.
My family is fine, and they will be fine … they have the money and resources to get back on their feet relatively easily. We’re all exceptionally fortunate, and we know it.
On the other hand, my family members are refugees. That’s a sentence I could never have imagined typing; it would never have occurred to me. A lot of people are saying “evacuees” because it sounds less harsh … but let’s face it, they are refugees for the foreseeable future.

6 thoughts on “refugees”

  1. Thank you, Jette. After years of enjoying hilarious stories about your New Orleans family, and reveling in Toni’s tales of Baton Rouge, I have fallen in love with a state I’ve never actually seen – does wearing out a videotape of Steel Magnolias count?
    I hope that some day your brother will once again be able to watch a parade on the “Wank”.
    Annie in Austin

  2. Jette,
    You aren’t alone. My inlaws are refugees as well. We just found out that my aunt-in-law is OK, she was in the East Jeff Hospital. My inlaw’s houses are all OK, as far as we can tell.
    We’re trying to get them to come stay with us in the frozen north until things settle down, but Maw Maw is almost 80, and too stubborn or ill to come up here, or something.
    We’ll see how things develop.
    http://www.wwltv.com has a live feed that’s pretty informative.
    -Scott

  3. Hey Jette (Hi Annie),
    WBRZ interviewed the Jeff. Parish President who said tonight that the plan was still on for Jeff Parish residents to get to come in on Monday. They will be allowed in starting at 6 a.m. (and they said something about a line “forming” the night before, starting at 6 p.m., but not where the line will form… and the anchors realized that once the president was gone, so they’re going to ask and report back). Anyway, they stressed that there will be absolutely no gas to be had in all of the parish, so for anyone going in to be sure they have enough to get back home. They’ll allow them in Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. I’m not sure why they said only three days, but that was the report.
    So glad to hear your parents’ house seemed to be relatively unscathed.

  4. Found your blog while looking for the correct spelling of McKenzies Bakery. Always grew up fearing this, used to prepare to go grab grammy from her house off Reed street, before she passed. I grew up thinking everyone have a grammy and nana who cook jambalaya and stuffed crabs. I had no idea how lucky I was. Russian cakes from McKenzies, the big bridge over the Industrial Canal, the smell of a grass on a humid day. Peering over the counter of Mr. Dumas’ toy soldier shop in the Quarter. The tangible places that tied these memories gone?
    It still seems impossible that it happened.

  5. I heard the Jeff Parish guy on WWL. They are opening the parish up at 6AM on Monday, and will be letting people in with ID only Monday through Wednesday, but after Wednesday anybody can go in, they won’t have checkpoints any more. You can’t get in via I-10 at all, they’ve closed that to anything but emergency vehicles, so you’ll have to use Airline or something. I don’t know what the state of the Huey P. Long is, but obviously trying to get in via Orleans in any fashion at all is probably a really bad idea.
    My brother is going to wait til Tuesday when hopefully the first big rush is over, but we’re having trouble figuring out the logistics. Getting gas anywhere east of Baton Rouge is pretty impossible, and getting gas IN Baton Rouge is sometimes a 3-hour wait, so the comment about “make sure you have enough gas to get in and get out” is not as simple as it sounds.
    Dang, George, I know it ain’t the season, but I could go for one of them old-fashioned McKenzie’s king cakes right about now. Or a roast beef po-boy from Parasol’s. Or an omellete from Camelia Grill. Or a burger from Bud’s Broiler….

  6. I have just enjoyed all of these emails and I guess I ended up on this page because of the “protective ice and Albert Brooks” reference. —- Sad state of affairs for New Orleans and the world. No one who is not from there or been there a lot can understand the underying feeling of that love for the city, it’s food, it’s culture, it’s people and everything else.
    I grew up on the West Bank of Jefferson Parish about 10 blocks from the river and it has been impossible to hear what was going on and when people did start talking about Jefferson Parish, it was East. I suppose one might have had to go to East Jeff High School or West Jeff High School to know that the parish is divided by the river.
    The situation is something that we heard about for years and could never really envision. When at Southeastern in Hammond so many years ago, the Army Corps of Engineers were talking about the levees. A few years ago, my husband who was not a New Orleanian in any way but loved the whole area, saw a special on the education channel here in the midwest of the situation.
    But the reference to McKenzie’s Bakery——are they still around? All of the jumbalaya, po boys and all of those things we grew up with bring back such memories. When I came here a long time ago, now, there would be a few bottles of Tabasco Sauce and maybe a few bottles of hot sauce on grocery shelves. Now they are on tables in restaurants.
    On the business page the other day, there was a small article of a new business coming to town. A Popeyes will be taking the place of a bagel place closing down one of their stores. Regardless, nothing any where else is ever like the red beans and rice or any of the other myriad foods of N. O.
    I used to bring back king cakes. And we weren’t very smart one time we tried to bring back a couple loaves of french bread on the plane. They were hard as a rock.
    Oh: I could really understand all of the talk and emotion of cousins, second cousins, aunt and other family relationships. I don’t think people here even know who their second and third cousins are much less talk of them in a loving way. Not that people are not loving to their family; They are: but it is different. Anyway, thanks for letting me digress a little bit and talk about my beloved city, also. I am glad your family is all together and well.

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