Narrow Escape from Martial Law\r\n9-2-05\r\nemail from Claudia Copeland\r\n\r\nTrapped in the city.\r\nSorry for the mass e-mail, it is the only way to\r\nget word to you all. We are safe in Baton Rouge.\r\nWe got through the hurricane just fine where we\r\nwere, in the French Quarter. (The Quarter and\r\nMarigny are dry, with mostly intact houses, just\r\na lot of cosmetic damage and tree limbs.)\r\n\r\nWe were going to stay, and feel terrible about\r\nleaving, since we can help by being a community\r\nand helping out in small ways, but they cut off\r\nthe tap water (so we can\'t even boil the tap\r\nwater) and we only have a 5 day supply of bottled\r\nwater, and the National Guard is not letting\r\nanyone in to help. Getting out is not at all\r\neasy. Here is the story of how we escaped.\r\n\r\nI\'ll write you another one about the hurricane\r\nitself (a lot of fun, for us) and the immediate\r\naftermath, which was characterized by our\r\nwonderful commmunity uniting and helping\r\neachother out.\r\nThe truly terrible part of thisdisaster is the government response. They are\r\nnot letting people with supplies in to help.\r\nThey have cut off our water. They are\r\nineffectual and incompetent. You will read below\r\nthat they are stealing private buses people hire\r\nto evacuate in, yet they do not send their own\r\nbuses. It is sinister and dangerous and\r\ndesperate. People here in Baton Rouge have\r\namassed supplies and can get people out, but the\r\nNational Guard is not letting them in. Please\r\ncall on the government in any way you can to\r\nallow private people to go in an deliver\r\nsupplies.\r\n\r\n-Claudia\r\n\r\nOur Escape from New Orleans\r\n\r\nWednesday:\r\n\r\nThey have shut off the tap water. They want to\r\nstem disease from drinking contaminated water,\r\nbut at least if they gave us contaminated water,\r\nwe could boil it. I feel panic welling up- why\r\ndidn\'t I fill up more jugs when we had tap water?\r\nSince the water has been on a few days, we have\r\ngrown complacent. We have been taking showers,\r\nso the bathtub is empty. I feel so stupid.\r\n\r\nAlso, we sense that the situation in the streets\r\nhas deteriorated. Fewer and fewer of our\r\nbohemian friends, and people in general, are\r\nleft. Sinister young men walk down these mostly\r\ndeserted streets. There is an ominous sense of\r\nabandonment.\r\n\r\nWe decide we must get out, and try to contact\r\neveryone we know who owns a car, by telephone and\r\nwalking. No one with a car is left in the city.\r\nWe decide at least to relocate to Jimmy\'s\r\napartment, which is more secure. We then see\r\nour new friends/neighbors, Niko, Melissa, and\r\nRarig. They propose bicycling out of the city to\r\nBaton Rouge. It seems a ludicrous idea at first,\r\nbut on second thought, sounds feasible. The\r\ndistance is 80 miles, and if we bring a very\r\nlarge amount of water, we could leave early in\r\nthe morning and arrive in Baton Rouge by\r\nnightfall. We plan to meet at Molly\'s at 7am the\r\nnext morning to depart, a bicycle tribe.\r\n\r\nBack at Jimmy\'s, we tell him of our intentions,\r\nand he says he has heard of buses departing from\r\nmajor hotels. Jose and Jimmy set off in search\r\nof these chartered buses, and find that the Hotel\r\nMonteleone has chartered a fleet of 10 buses with\r\nstate trooper escort to come in and evacuate\r\ntheir guests to Houston. There are 200 extra\r\nseats that they are selling to residents at $45 a\r\nseat (at cost). Jose on his way to pick up his\r\nforgotten green card and passport passes Niko,\r\nMelissa, and Rarig. He tells them about the\r\nbuses and to get down there. Back at his\r\napartment, Jimmy packs up in 15 minutes, taking\r\nmostly gold. They get in line. I\'m completely\r\ntense. Then, victory! They have gotten tickets.\r\nEveryone is happy. I\'m relieved, but still\r\ntense. I won\'t be able to relax until we are\r\nphysically on the bus. The buses are scheduled to\r\narrive at 6:30pm. Teddy, Jimmy\'s neighbor who\r\ndecided to stay, will securely bar the front door\r\nto their building from the inside at 8pm. At\r\nthat point, we won\'t be able to get back in.\r\n\r\nWaiting. 6:30pm comes and goes. 7:30pm... 8:30pm...\r\n9:30pm ... waiting for the fleet of 10 buses. It\'s\r\ngetting dark, and scary. We have police with\r\ndouble barrel shotguns to guard us, and protect\r\nagainst a rush on the buses, but there are only\r\nfour of them. The French Quarter is ominous at\r\nnight; terrifying if away from the police escort\r\nwith their double barrel shotguns. At this\r\npoint, a cheer goes up, but instead of a fleet of\r\nten chartered buses, a single Jefferson Parish\r\nschool bus shows up. The driver gets out & talks\r\nwith the hotel organizer. Jose hovers around\r\nnearby, discreetly listening. The buses have\r\nbeen commandeered by the police- the Monteleone\r\npaid for them, but they have been stolen by the\r\nstate. (The state says they need them to\r\nevacuate the sick and elderly, but why can\'t the\r\nstate get ahold of its own buses??? They should\r\nhave a fleet of 100 buses taking people out, and\r\nshould have had that fleet by Monday night, but\r\ninstead they do nothing until a private party\r\ntakes action to help itself, and then they steal\r\nthe buses.) The hotel manager is livid & angrily\r\nbut quietly decides to try to \"negotiate\" with\r\nthe state. He is not letting on to the guests\r\nthat the buses have been confiscated- no one\r\nknows except those like Jose that are discreetly\r\nbut actively gathering information. Allan\r\nToussaint and his wife coolly gather their bags\r\nand get on the school bus.\r\n\r\nJose speaks to the bus driver. For $50 cash\r\neach, he will take us to Baton Rouge. I have\r\n$61, Jose has $14, Kip (Jimmy\'s neighbor, a\r\ntransplant patient who needs regular dialysis and\r\nis already overdue) has $20, and Jimmy has $50.\r\nI ask desperately and ridiculously if they take\r\ncredit cards or checks. Of course they don\'t,\r\nand in fact they say that no one in the state is\r\ntaking credit cards, because of all the\r\npossibility of theft. Jose turns to me and says\r\n\"baby, if you want to take this bus... good luck to\r\nyou\" and I turn back \"I won\'t leave without you.\"\r\nIt\'s as simple as that. Then, I beg. I plead\r\nwith the bus driver to take us- that our friend\r\nneeds dialysis and that this is all the cash we\r\nhave. I explain that we\'ve already given $45 for\r\nthe Monteleone ticket. He agrees to take what\r\nwe have and we scramble on board. I love the\r\nfeel of sitting on the hard metal floor of the\r\nstripped out bus. But I\'m not relaxed yet. This\r\nbus, too, could be confiscated. (The police have\r\ntried twice to confiscate his bus, but he managed\r\nto escape.) I hold my knees close, and pray\r\nthat we make it to Baton Rouge. The bus creeps\r\nalong, silently taking back-streets out of New\r\nOrleans, over the Crescent City Connection\r\n(slight release of tension- we\'re officially out\r\nof the city) and out, through back roads, looping\r\ntowards Donaldsville then over the Sunshine\r\nBridge and then finally onto the I-10 just before\r\nBaton Rouge. At the city, I can hardly believe\r\nthe familiar yet strange sight of lighted signs\r\nand streetlights. It has been pitch black in New\r\nOrleans since Sunday night. You can see the\r\nstars in the sky.\r\n\r\nWe are dropped off at the airport. I ask the bus\r\ndriver for his address, so I can send him the\r\ndifference. He declines (of course; this is\r\nobviously a pirated bus), and I thank him\r\nprofusely. He will return to New Orleans\r\nthroughout the night to rescue people wanting to\r\nescape.\r\n\r\nFinally believing that we have really escaped, I\r\ncan sigh in exhausted relief. The airport, full\r\nof refugees sleeping on the floor, is a wonderful\r\nplace. We plug in our cell phones, and call\r\nAndre & Laura. They are there in minutes with\r\ntheir car to pick us up. Their house is\r\nluxurious, and Andre even cooks up some eggs and\r\ntoast, with sliced tomatoes, for us. It is like\r\nheaven to be here, truly heavenly.\r\n\r\nAs the stories come spilling out of us, my\r\nhappiness is marred only by a terrible sense of\r\nsadness for the others left behind, in the terror\r\nof a city steadily evacuated by bohemians and\r\nworking class people and taken over by criminals\r\nand soldiers. The worst are the people still on\r\ntheir roofs, sitting there without food or water\r\nfor days on end, or drowning. Also, the animals.\r\nOur neighbors, in a move of supremely cruel\r\nirresponsibility, left their dog in their\r\napartment, locked in there. They told us nothing\r\nwhen they evacuated, did not give us a key, and\r\nwe had no way of getting in. We heard the dog\r\ndesperately scratching against the wall on\r\nTuesday night, but were afraid to go outside to\r\ndo anything about it. Wednesday, we heard no\r\nmore sound from him. I feel incredibly guilty\r\nfor not breaking a barred window to at least give\r\nhim a chance to get out, in case he was still\r\nalive. I only hope that perhaps they left a long\r\nterm supply of food and water, and that he is\r\nalive and only quiet, and will survive until they\r\nget back. I wish that I could go back, in an\r\nofficial vehicle loaded with water and supplies,\r\nto just drop off supplies and pick up people,\r\ntaking them back and forth to Baton Rouge. But\r\nthey are letting no one in to help. People\r\noutside the city want desperately to come in and\r\nrescue their friends and family members, and I\'m\r\nsure many are willing to drive in supplies. If\r\nthe government were competent to take care of the\r\nsituation, then they could indeed take over. But\r\nthey are NOT. (It is just one example that they\r\ncan\'t get their shit together to get their own\r\nbuses, just confiscating the buses of those who\r\nare more competent than they.) They NEED to LET\r\nPEOPLE BACK IN so they can help the residents\r\ntrapped in the city.\r\n\r\nDr. Claudia Copeland, Ph.D.\r\n\r\nhttp://neworleans.indymedia.org/news/2005/09/4048.php