A year later... \r\n\r\nMy great grandmother passed earlier this year as result of Katrina. The long haul to GA was too much for her delicate condition. The 14 hour ride did more damage to her body than any previous occasion where a hospital visit was very much needed. My grandmother in turn has become incredibly depressed, lonely and still without a home. She is currently living in Kentucky, but just wants to go back home. \r\n\r\nAugust 28, 2005\r\nLike the many hurricanes before Katrina, my family waited to the last minute to decide where to go, or if to go at all. New Orleanians claim to know the hurricane track better than most weatherman; as long as they were on the westside of the eye, or away from the torrential rains, they were safe. I called my mom and asked what was the plan. At this point, Katrina was defined as a category 5 storm. Still my family said they would wait to see which side of the eye New Orleans would get before they moved. I remembered asking my mom to just please pack up and go. No sense in waiting around because either way at a Cat 5 the wind or rain would cause major damage or major interruption to water/sanitations/electric. Mom, please get out. So they did, they worked their way to Georgia to stay with a uncle. The ride normally would take 6-7 hours. This time it took 14 hours with mom, grandmother and late great grandmother in tow. My grandmother told me how she felt sorry for GGMA (great grandma). She hadn\'t use the bathroom within the 14 hours and food was minimal. The idea was just to keep trucking before having to stop in the road and risk being stuck in traffic for a longer period of time. They made it; thank you Jesus.\r\n\r\nAugust 29, 2005\r\nI sat like everyone else in America glued to my computer screen at work checking out the local New Orleans newspapers and new stations. All waiting to see what would happen to our town when the big one finally landed. At this time Katrina was downgraded to Cat 3, but the hype of a Cat 5 hitting town just kept on despite the downgrade. Images of the Superdome and other wind damages seemed \"ok\" in comparison to the prediction of New Orleans being completely submerged under 20 feet of water. Sigh of relief. The Dome; building windows, roofs all could be repaired later. As along as everyone was on dry land for the evening. I remembered thanking Jesus for sparing us once again; thank you for providing shelter to those who needed and having gotten my family to GA safely.\r\n\r\n\r\nThe rest of days\r\nI am not sure when the levee broke. I didn\'t think to check back on the problem until later in the morning. Tuesday I think. Talks about rising water in the Dome frightened the hell out of me! The Dome sat at least 5 feet above Poydras Street! Moreover, my Grandmother\'s house was only 5 minutes away and sat 4 feet above Jefferson Pkwy. I did the math. There was at least 2 feet of water in the Dome which meant there was at least 3 feet in my grandmother\'s house. Which also meant there was water every where\'s else. My first thought went back to levees and the neighborhoods surrounding them; Lakefront, Chalmette (St. Bernard), 9th Ward. I thought about any family I had living around there, hoping they made it out before the breaks. Then I started to think about everything I knew in those areas: my favorite restaurants, my childhood home, my favorite Aunts house, my old neighborhood, bars, schools, friends, people, everything! Where did they all go? When will they come back? If ever? I started to cry. Here I am in D.C. and on my screen is my city washing away. My city no more. My neighbors, memories, streets, spirit, no more. I felt devastated. I lost a big part of me; my identity. I also felt helpless, what could I do to stop the water from rising? Then the images of the Convention Center, Superdome, the highways began pouring in. I\'ve never felt so angry in my life. So wanting to just strip America down to their skin and have them feel like those \"refugees\", scared, alone, hopeless, lost. Why was it taking so long for help? Why? THe days grew into weeks, month and now, nearly a year later.\r\n\r\nAugust 2006\r\nIt is truly amazing to me what people can endure. The lost of loved ones, personal property, stability; the soul. I look at my parents today (mom, stepdad and grandma), and I just can\'t believe what all they went through and how they\'ve come along one year later with great ability to move beyond the tragedy. I look at myself and think how I could have done more; I should have done more. My family portrait has changed with the lost of my ggma (great grandma). The place I called home is still being rebuilt; an incredibly slow process. The city itself is in a make or break situation which largely depends on its ability to seduce tourists back into its arms, full of good spirits. A year later and there is so much left to do and prepare for. My thoughts run back to my Gma, who will now live alone after 66 years spent with her mother. How will she afford the increased insurance rates? Can she make it alone? Will she continue to suffer? What can I do?\r\n\r\nI read about Spike Lee\'s premiere of When the Levees Broke in New Orleans and folks were lined up in anticipation. The auditorium sold out its 7,000 seats. I wish I had been there to grieve, reflect and celebrate with my city. One year later and I can recall my days between August 29th 2006 and January 12th 2007. I wish I had documented those days, so that today I may look back and understand how much I personally endured with being so away from my home and family. Perhaps these days I would be emotionally stronger and not easily weakened by matters of less importance.\r\n\r\nI\'ve been trying to convince myself that I need to watch the documentary. I know it will be hard, but right now I feel I can\'t give anymore emotionally and if I do, it will be hard to recover after having just gone through other emotional stuff. I just can\'t imagine what all my family, friends, neighbors, etc. went through. I heard the stories, made the calls when I could, but just don\'t really want to see what I know could have easily been me or my family had they not decided to leave that Sunday afternoon.