Gentilly Girl- a part of the 99%

I’m not doing too well today: Betts has been ill and all that flows through my mind are the events of late August 2005. The latter is the Goddess’ way of telling to do more for the folks here, to find new ways to give help and solace. To never allow the World to forget what happened here two years ago, and to bring those who failed an entire region of the planet to Justice.

8/28/05- I’m cleaning up the courtyard. Checking my tomato stakes because it’s going to be rough for my plants. I’m still expecting the turn of the storm, but that’s in full knowledge that we in New Orleans aren’t getting off lightly.

Betts and I talk about boarding the windows, but they have plexiglass over them and what the Hell can come through all of that? She continues to answer the phone and do her business. I have everything prepped as goes for supplies.

Must clean the house. I can’t have it messy before having a bunch of people in panic mode staying with us. I’m trying to be my mother: insane grace under pressure. The feelings of disaster still hit me and I’m wondering if this is my last day in this incarnation. (Am I creating a sanctuary or a tomb?)

Evening- I’m burning my phone line leaving messages for folks I know must get out of their homes. The old ‘puter continues to show me possibilities. I’m getting worried: Momma Morwen gathers part of her flock in one place and the world caves in? This storm is scaring me greatly, or is it the storm? What is fucking with my soul? I wish my mom was with me: I need some backup. I can’t do this alone, but it all boils down to my choice.
Hours later I have no responses. It’s time to lock up the fort.

At 12:45 AM I get the latest storm data… Katrina is a Cat 4. I’m sitting at my desk… seeing in my mind’s eye all of St. Bernard, the Lower Ninth, the Marigny… remembering all of the Past… friends, enemies… just freakin’ life… the world of my crazy tribe. “MY” people are going to get screwed.
I’m in total shock and then I realize I’m packing up files. We cannot face a Cat 5 storm here in New Orleans. The house will survive, but we need power, ‘puters and phones. How else can we pay the bills? Betty’s company changes hands in two days and she is their primary salesperson. We, and by that I mean many people in different regions, are a freaking chain… what happens to one link reverberates along the line.
I walk back to the living room…  I must chose between love and mind. I know Katrina will turn, but… something spoke and said “Get the fuck out of there”. I told Betts to start packing and I’ll take care of the cats and the house.

We are trying to get two friends to help with cleaning out the rest of the courtyard. They are basket cases and we see them off to Dallas. I don’t need their insanity because I need to think.

Grey Kitty (who we inherited when we bought the house), will not get into the car. Betts is putting her stuff in the Buick. I grab Grey Kitty and my tenant’s cat and place them in the house. Split open a 20# bag of kibble and set out 8 gallons of water. I grab photos of Betts’ grannies, her heirloom of a Maxfield Parrish piece, some of my favorite things and stuff them in the car. I pray to the Lady at my altar and ask my little ones to protect the house.

I have a feeling of Doom coming at me… and there is no fucking reason for it. I KNOW the models… I’m a freakin’ engineer. I grew up here, but something is coming. Something I cannot put a name on.
Gentle readers, whether you believe in the Metaphysical or not, I had a really bad feeling about things, and that was the Lady warning me.

At 4 in the morning we took off for Houston.