What remained...

The top photo was taken in New Orleans parish. You can see the high water mark over that rose over the first floor of this home. Imagine the loss. The second photo I took of a building just outside St. Bernard parish (Help 8 Souls, No Wake)...which clearly had been evac-ed through the roof. The final two photos are of the same home, where the water reached the roof. We went to this home in search of a beagle, and when we spoke to the owner's daughter, she still had no information (4 weeks after the storm and flooding) on where her Mother was or whether she was still alive. From the outside, you can't see how great the damage is to the home, but inside, this home was completely destoyed. The floorboards in the living room were warped 5 ft. high, and all the wet, moldy, bloated furniture had been wedged into each doorway and crevice. We had to crawl across mud, sludge and broken furniture, and up a broken attic stairway to look for the woman and her dog. Sadly, we found neither. We did photograph all the markings on the home though, and read them to the the woman's daughter. We hoped they might help her reunite with her Mother. And while I usually reserve this blog for animals, I felt these images were poignant this week, and should be shared. Remember, it still isn't over down there.

Animal Supplies in Ghostown

The Dryades YMCA school served as a supply station for animals after Hurricane Katrina, but was abandoned as the city was evacuated. I took this photo the day before Hurricane Rita hit New Orleans. Eric, Billy, Lacey, Jennifer, Matt and I stopped to rummage through the wet supplies that were strewn across the lawn. We managed to salvage crates, food, treats, dishes (for food and water) and other basic supplies from the soggy mess. The palate of bottled water was a saving grace, and we used tons of it to quench the palates of the thirsty animals all over the city. After a few days of picking through the soggy, moldy, bug-infested and very ripe-smelling supply pile at the Y, we formed a human conveyor belt and transferred the bags of dog and cat food (seen in top photo), and stacked everything that we could salvage on the porch of a home across the street. This served as a food supply outpost for us, and many other animal rescuers we never met or knew the names of, to feed and water many of the sick and stranded pets throughout New Orleans. I often wondered what the owners of that purple-and-pink home would have thought if they could have seen all the pet food stacked high across their front porch, and someday, I hope to be able to hang this photo on their front door with a big note that says "THANKS FOR HELPING US SAVE THE PETS". Their neighborhood then was nothing more than a ghost town as I shot these photos. No sound, other than the rustle of the wind, or our quick footsteps padding across the Y's lawn, could be heard. The city was as quiet as death as we endlessly combed it in search of signs of life. These supplies, likely donated by thousands of strangers who will remain forever unknown, were key to both rescuing the pets we found, and keeping countless others alive. It's hard for me to look at the photos and not feel the height of the moments. In this rare case, the pictures pinpoint and capture life-changing moments in my life.

Camping in New Orleans

We set up camp in NOLA in a Rite-Aid parking lot in Jefferson Parish. We were happy to be in a dry, safe, quiet place while kenneling our rescues. Down the road, just outside hard-hit Saint Bernard parish, where the flooding was high and the damage immense, I photographed this camper that had been destroyed in the flood. Sights like this kept those of us with dry accomodations silent.

Remembering the Lost...

For many reasons, the juxtaposition of this scene drew me to it. I photographed this in New Orleans in September 2005. I think it says enough without words.