Photo of the day

This is not what you want to see on the eve of a trip you have been planning for two months. The projected track of Hurricane Ivan had it passing within a few miles of New Orleans and lingering over the South. What would be left of the Crescent City after this monster blew through? We waited and watched anxiously. Graphic by NOAA.


September 15, 2004
[Day 15] << Go to >> [Day 1]

Hurricane Ivan was something we hadn't bargained for when we booked our plane tickets to Houston and our New Orleans hotel. This satellite image gives a pretty good idea of just how huge this storm was. Ma Nature smiled on us at the last second as the storm veered to the east and missed most of Louisiana. Photo by NOAA.

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Riders on the storm

Louisiana rain is falling at my feet
Baby I'm noticing the change as I move down the street
Louisiana rain is soaking through my shoes
I may never be the same when I reach Baton Rouge
— "Louisiana Rain," by Tom Petty

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Tuesday, September 14 (Three days before vacation) — I usually don't start these logs until the trip officially begins, but this is one of those occasions where I felt compelled to say something in advance. As I write this, it is actually Wednesday morning, a few minutes after 2 a.m., and my mind is on the weather. In a few hours from now, Hurricane Ivan is going to smash into the Gulf Coast with sustained winds of close to 140 mph. Landfall could occur somewhere between New Orleans and the western Florida panhandle. Normally this wouldn't bother me much, except that on Friday morning we are scheduled to board a plane that will take us to Houston for the start of what is supposed to be two weeks of adventure in the Deep South. This wasn't the sort of adventure any of us had planned on.

Roni has always wanted to see New Orleans. I promised her that some day we'd visit the city for Mardi Gras. Of course, Mardi Gras is no place for kids Ben's age, so for years it had been mostly idle talk. She was content with the New Orleans Square attraction at Disneyland. Then came Roni's decision in June to step down from her volunteer duties at the Oakley Chamber of Commerce and her co-chair position with the Oakley Almond Festival. That freed up our September vacation calendar for a real trip, and we decided to take advantage of it with that long talked-about trip to the Big Easy. We took the plunge in late July, booking tickets on Continental Airlines and reserving hotel rooms in eight cities over 14 days. Suddenly we were excited about the trip, knowing now that it was really going to happen. No more talk. We got books on every town we planned to visit, started making lists of what to bring and what sights we wanted to see. We began working on Ben to get him eager to go (he was reluctant at first, as only a 10-year-old boy with little experience in the greater world can be). I began compiling a collection of Cajun and Zydeco music to accompany us on the drive from Houston to Baton Rouge, and on into New Orleans. Everything was falling into place.

And then came Ivan.

Hurricane Ivan spun up a couple of weeks ago in the Caribbean, and dire predictions were made that it would be the third major hurricane in about as many weeks to batter Florida. Anyone would have had to feel for the Floridians, who were thrashed first by Charley and then by Frances just a week apart. All the weather forecasts said this would be number three, even though its track took it in a more southerly direction. I was nervous about it, but all the weather models had it veering through the Florida Keys within the week. I'll keep an eye on it, I decided.

A week later, Ivan still had not made landfall. In fact, it was trending north by northwest, taking it past Grenada and Jamaica with devastating results when it increased to a category 5 storm. I made the Weather Channel part of my daily TV ritual, checking the updates with greater attention than I pay to football scores on a Sunday afternoon. I began yelling at the TV "Turn EAST, turn EAST!" But the storm never did. It poked along the southern coast of Cuba, slid between the western end of that island and the eastern edge of Mexico, and then resumed its north by northwest track into the Gulf of Mexico where it drew a bead on the Mississippi delta.

Suddenly our dream vacation has turned into a nightmare and it hasn't yet begun. Close to 2 million people are being evacuated. I saw photos on the wire at work tonight of clogged freeways and shopkeepers boarding up buildings in the French Quarter. Folks in Alabama and Mississippi are heading north in droves, as the eye of the storm is forecast to plow right between those two states. It's going to be a major, serious mess, regardless of where the storm hits. Even if New Orleans escapes the eye, it would still suffer the effects of treacherous winds and pounding surf, resulting in floods and damage to structures. Even if we are able to get into the city, where we have booked a hotel for three nights, what will there be to see? Mud? Rubble? We envisioned strolling along downtown streets past French bakeries and cafés, taking in the scenery while munching on beignets. Will anything be open by Sunday, when we are scheduled to hit town? Or will we be greeted by plywood-covered windows? Not to mention the fact that we will be heading into town along with hundreds of thousands of antsy Louisianans anxious to see what became of their homes in the storm.

I feel selfish for thinking only of our vacation when there will be so many people whose lives will be profoundly affected by what this storm does. We will be in town just four days, but many call New Orleans home year round. Still, if someone must get hit hard, why does it have to be the one place we wanted to experience unravaged by the hand of God? I'm not saying Florida deserved to get hit thrice. I don't think I'd wish bad fortune on anyone. But I guess there's little chance of this thing weakening. The forecasts have all been wrong so far, so why should we have any hope that the coast will be spared the fiercest impact?

It's 3 a.m. now. I'm tired and I've said about all my frazzled brain can comprehend of this situation right now. Roni has already been talking that perhaps we should alter our itinerary to visit New Orleans at the end of our trip instead of the beginning. A great idea, except that no hotels will be available now with so many evacuees out there looking. Best we can do is keep watching how this plays out and hope for the best before our departure Friday afternoon. The "best" at this point might just be for Ivan to blow through as soon as possible and be on its way so the recovery effort can begin.

This page was last updated on Sunday, October 10, 2004 at 23:35 hrs.

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