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| Looking down from I-10, New Orleans, Sept, 6, 2005 |
It was around August 29th 2005 when I decided that I would head down to New Orleans to help out during Hurricane Katrina. I'd be going in two capacities, first, as a Registered Nurse/Fireman, and two, as a photojournalist. I knew that might be logistically difficult to do but I had a plan. I'd spend the first few days working at one of the makeshift hospitals they were setting up and then travel through the city to capture the aftermath.
I'm not doing a step by step of my time there but I flew into Baton Rouge Airport and headed to Louisiana State University where they had converted their gymnasium into a makeshift hospital. It was slow at first but then the patient load picked up. The below image was the only one I was able to get off during my three day stay working there.
On my last night at LSU they asked for volunteers to go to New Orleans International Airport to help out because all of the patients being rescued from New Orleans, from the roof tops to the Superdome, were being airlifted there. It was helicopter after helicopter during my two days there.
After my fourth or fifth day it was time to hit New Orleans. By then most of the people had been evacuated from the Superdome and from the elevated highways that circled the city. Any rescues made by then were done during door to door searches.
Luckily I thought ahead and made sure I packed a pair of waders for the trip down. Believe it or not I somehow got a pair of Simms Vibram soled bootfoots into my backpack/ camera bag. And even more lucky they didn't leak while I was down there. People ask me about the differences
between 9/11 and Katrina. I always say Katrina was more difficult as there were far more people in need of rescue and treatment then at at Ground Zero. I found the days after 9/11 were more of a recovery operation but in New Orleans people still needed to rescued, evacuated, and treated.
The victims in New Orleans had no medications (high blood pressure, insulin, anticoagulants, and psych) for over a week, and just about everyone had been in water for some time, and nasty water at that. Look at the guys foot above. That's probably a diabetic foot that had been soaked in Lake Pontchartrain water mixed with sewerage, fuels, and everything else that was floating around.
I was first in the 9th Ward, one of the hardest hit, before finding my way back to center city. I snapped the above pic along Bourbon Street and it always reminded me of a scene from Saigon. The scenes of what was left after the storm and the evacuation were unbelievable.
I remember walking one way down a street and horses were making their way up on the other side. I really didn't do a double-take because it was just another scene. Bodies covered with garbage cans or sheets after they were dragged to higher ground. I didn't include those images here.
Buildings were burning everyone you looked and some had a firetruck or two trying to protect the buildings next door from burning down.
Where firetrucks couldn't respond to helicopters dropped water from the sky. It was all surreal.
I took the below image of the St. Roch Market which sat on St. Claude Avenue. Originally built in 1875 it took a beating during Katrina and sat vacant for nearly 10 years.
Today it's the home of Blaine's Restaurant after a very costly, but important, renovation. Most of the buildings in the Faubiurg Marigny/ Bywater neighborhood, next to the French Quarter, were
heavily damaged and torn down. I guess you could liken Katrina like we had Sandy, the only difference was that hit an entire city, like the size of Philadelphia.
As the days followed the actual storm and breach the water receded and the survivors milled around trying to save what they could. Some people held out but eventually
surrendered to the lack of water, heat, electricity, and food. Most knew looters would be out and about and at night the city was one big shadow where do-badders capitalized on the situation.
I have to say the nights were less than fun. When I got to New Orleans I had no connections or friends to hang with. I didn't have a place to stay. I squatted inside the Hyatt Hotel on the
mezzanine level with the conference rooms. It was safer there then being corners in a vacant hotel room. Here was my view from my make shift bed on one of the sofas that was in the lobby. Eventually the phone service was restored and I was able to call home and let everyone know I was alright.
I remember walking down Canal Street all alone one late afternoon. I was hot, tired, and just about done. My feet were killing me. All of a sudden a car came down the street and it stopped near me. "Hi, I'm Shiho Fukada, do you know you're way around here?" She was a freelancer
for the Associated Press and for two days we drove around as far as we could to bring us to the neighborhoods that were hardest hit. It was fun while it lasted but on one morning she got a call that they wanted her to drive to Biloxi, Mississippi to cover the story there. It was then I knew I was done. No friends. No car. It was over.
I hooked up with The Salvation Army, put on a t-shirt, and went to work. My goal was to just get back to the Baton Rouge Airport to get home. Luckily that planned worked as the staging area for TSA was near the airport. While none of my images made it to print I did establish a relationship with The Star-Ledger, The New York Times, and Getty Images.
It would be a few weeks after Katrina, October 2nd to be exact, when a tour boat, The Ethan Allen, capsized on Lake George killing 20 of the 47 elderly passengers on board. I was in Red Bank, New Jersey when Getty called asking if I wanted to take the assignment.
While the rescue and recovery was done when I got there it was the image I made the next morning which got a lot of international play. It was a picturesque fall morning on the lake,
which was in far contrast to the horror and chaos that occurred the day before. It all seems like an eternity ago. I remember the good old days when newspapers ruled and you could make
a buck or two in photojournalism. I would go on to work for The New Post, The Star Ledger, and The New York Times until the advertising dollars dried up and publishers eviscerated the newsrooms in all the big papers. The assignments dried up with the money.
Twenty years ago was a new life post Newark Fire Department. A friend and I started Agency News Jersey, a news photo agency that worked until the newspapers change their business plans. It was then into guiding full time which then led to a return to all things nursing. There's a difference between sustaining a habit or a hobby and truly making a living. 2005 seems like a long time ago. I retired. Erin was born. I went to Katrina. And then it was off to the races in photojournalism working in both New York and New Jersey. I wouldn't mind having those last 20 years back. I definitely would have done a few things differently.