Hovering Over Disaster
NEW ORLEANS, Louisiana -- New Orleans; the city of jazz, of Mardi Gras, of the French Quarter -- all those things I had seen on television throughout my life, but had never had the chance to see in person. Now I would travel to New Orleans, but not on the ground -- I would hover over the disaster area in a four-person helicopter.
I traveled with an experienced videographer from The 700 Club who wanted the door removed so that there would be no hindrance to his shots. Being only my second time in a helicopter, I was happy to shoot through the window, making sure my seat belt was securely fastened.
The helicopter pilots were both volunteers for Operation Blessing who had made themselves available to The 700 Club. "We only have enough fuel for a 35 minute flight," one of the pilots informed me as we climbed aboard. 'Low on fuel and we haven't even left yet?' I thought, 'not exactly the way I'd like to begin the journey.'
We climbed aboard and loaded our gear, making sure everything was secured since there would be no door on the left side.
"Clear!" the pilot hollered as he started the engines. "Clear!" he called out again after a few seconds and slowly the copter lifted from the ground. Only a few feet above the makeshift airfield until it began moving forward and rising rapidly. Within seconds we were above the trees, moving swiftly toward Lake Pontchartrain.
My colleague from The 700 Club had flown over the disaster zone several times the week before. I was not on the communication headphones, and I couldn't hear him under the whir of the chopper
We entered the northeastern section of the city and immediately observed flooded neighborhoods. This is a low-lying part of New Orleans, filled with bogs and swamps. I was surprised that anyone would want to build a home in such a swampy area, but there they were below us, deluged with water -- many of the roofs had their shingles removed by the wind.
As we moved south the scene began to change beneath us. The closer we got to the city the less flooding we observed. This is the industrial part of town, dotted with warehouses, shipping facilities, and fuel tanks. As we emerged over the Mississippi River, we noticed that there was activity along the waterfront. Though it was not bustling, there were a few ocean liners cruising down the river toward the Gulf of Mexico. The continuation of commerce on the river was a welcome sight.
Docked at the edge of the river, just across from downtown, was one of the Carnival Cruise ships that were sent to house some of the evacuees. Sometimes ironic images convey so much more than words can, and that's how I felt as we passed this 'fun ship' -- an ocean vessel designed for no other purpose but to provide entertainment to her passengers. And yet here it was, serving as a host for families displaced by the storm. 'Quite a contrast to its original purpose,' I thought.
Crossing over the eastern side of the Mississippi, we could now clearly see the skyscrapers of downtown -- and the damaged roof of the Superdome in the distance. Our flight path led us away from the center of the city -- I learned later that air traffic strictly limited over the downtown area. The further we flew toward the south the better the conditions appeared to be below us.
We passed over the shipyards and warehouses lining the zig-zagging river below and saw much more activity in this section of town. Suddenly we turned and began heading north again. We moved directly toward the downtown area. I was now able to have a clear view of the damage done to the roof of the Superdome. I took several photos of the downtown, the Superdome, and the now-closed Interstate 10.
As we skirted the city again on the east side, flying above the river, I saw another giant white Carnival cruise ship even closer to the downtown. Smoke was rising from the great whale tale flume that rose from the back of the ship, hints of activity inside the grand vessel.
After we landed I learned that we were just about out of gas and would have to refuel before we returned to the city. The large tanker drove up next to the helicopter and began filling the bird as the pilots walked over to a nearby hanger to confirm directions to our destination.
Within a few short minutes we were airborne again and following the
Block after block, houses, apartment buildings, and businesses sat in several feet of putrid water -- the toxic brew a mix of sewage, oil, chemicals, and water from the lake, far too dangerous for anyone to go
Every few blocks a canal ran through the city separating one flooded section from another. We got close enough to see one of the working pumping stations, slowly pulling the poisoned water from the city and pumping it back into the lake.
After a short distance we crossed over the Lake Pontchartrain
We turned west and flew through the less damaged parts of the suburbs. Though there was no flooding in this part of town, there was plenty of wind damage. In some places, large sections of buildings were blown off, exposing the interior. Up and down the main streets large plastic restaurant signs had been blown out or bent over by the force of the winds. Gas station canopies lay in many places like mangled balls of aluminum foil.
As we approached the Operation Blessing distribution center on the west side of town we circled the training facility of the New Orleans Saints. Helicopters of various sizes and shapes sat on the practice field in front of the large warehouse-type facility. Across the front of the giant building the
We grabbed our gear and walked away from the copter, our heads still low, just in case. Behind us the small, gray helicopter rose into the sky and then turned to make its way back to Slidell. When the bird was far enough away that we could hear each other again, my co-worker explained why our trip had once again been cut short. "The president is flying into New Orleans and they've ordered all aircraft out of the sky. The pilots had to drop us off and get out of town quickly or they would have been stuck on the ground."
We toted our gear over to the church next door where volunteers were unloading a shipment of supplies from Operation Blessing. That night I sat in one of our RVs and watched the president, only miles from my location, addressing a national television audience and declaring that New Orleans would be rebuilt.
The next day, as we drove out of town, we had a hard time finding an on-ramp to the highway. We were blocked by broken water mains, damaged on-ramps, flooded streets, and National Guard blockades. In an attempt to find an open highway, we drove down into one of the flood zones. By now the water had receded somewhat, but the streets were clogged with mud, garbage, and debris from the storm. The smell of sewer was rancid and we were far from the worst part of the city. National Guard troops stood at the entrance to the neighborhood and signaled for us to turn around.
After receiving directions from one of the locals, we made our way back to the western suburbs, but still could not find an open on-ramp to the highway -- a frustration made even more perplexing by the cars that were speeding by on the highway itself. Heading west we passed from one closed on-ramp to another, wondering how far we would have to go to
Finally, after a 45-minute search, we found an on-ramp to I-10 and worked our way toward the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway, the last exit that was still open. As we approached Causeway Boulevard, a line of military vehicles, rescue equipment, police cars, ambulances, and relief worker RVs sat in the left lane, awaiting permission to enter the city. National Guard troops and Louisiana State Police checked each vehicle before allowing them to continue on I-10 into the downtown. We skirted the traffic and took the off-ramp heading toward the causeway.
On the other side of Lake Pontchartrain we linked up with Interstate 12, heading east and then north out of Louisiana. The other side of the highway was clogged with cars, rescue vehicles, RVs, utility trucks, and semi-tractor-trailers all working their way slowly toward the damaged city. The western suburbs were opening for people to return to their homes, and there was a rumor that the New Orleans mayor was going to start opening the lesser damaged sections of the city.
As I gazed over toward the hundreds of people heading back to New Orleans I lifted up a prayer. "Lord, help these people to regain what has been lost. And for those who can't rebuild, help them to find a new place to call home."