Spirit of New Orleans still alive

  • Published
  • By Airman 1st Class Tim Bazar
  • 314th Airlift Wing Public Affairs
LITTLE ROCK AIR FORCE BASE, Ark. (AFPN) --  Four hours after I found out I’d be heading out for my first deployment to report on the 347th Expeditionary Rescue Group’s search and rescue mission for Joint Task Force Katrina, I was en route to Jackson, Miss.

Naturally, a number of thoughts ran through my head: What should I brace myself for? Will I end up in New Orleans? Should I bring my own water and food?

It seemed ironic to me that almost four years after Sept. 11 -- the whole reason I joined the Air Force -- a whole other group of people were now in need of help. I had a prime opportunity to show how the Air Force is helping in the nation’s moment of crisis.

Between Little Rock and Jackson, there wasn’t a turn made that you couldn’t see the hustle and bustle to provide relief to the hurricane-ravaged Gulf Coast.

Electric company trucks and Army vehicles, some with convoys up to 30 vehicles long, lined both sides of the highway; gas cans, sleeping bags and coolers were sold out everywhere; gas station owners had cordoned off pumps due to shortages of fuel; hotel parking lots were full of cars with suitcases and boxes piled on luggage racks.

Naturally, I wanted to see firsthand what caused all of this.

So, when I got the chance to fly over New Orleans on a search and rescue mission, I jumped at it; but nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see.

What was once a bustling city brimming with southern history was now an underwater ghost town. The only things left behind now were shells of homes, piles of rubble, animals fighting to stay alive, and the smell of trash and death.

Watching the events unfold is nothing like being there. Seeing people sleeping on cots outside the convention center and Superdome, watching what must have been dozens of helicopters flying grids to look for anyone left alive, hurting because you can give up a space on the helicopter to save an animal stranded on a porch or rooftop.

People walk in waist-high sludge to save what’s left of their possessions. Dogs swim house to house in contaminated water looking for anything edible, fuel fumes fill the air and shine in the reflection of the water drowning most of the city.

It’s unbelievable. Just a few weeks ago it would have been difficult to find a parking spot anywhere; now people are few and far between.

But even though most have left the city and everything seems lost, the spirit of “The Big Easy” lives on.

Signs like “We will rebuild New Orleans,” and “Nothing can stop us from coming home – not even you, Katrina,” line rooftops and car hoods, obviously painted by people waiting to be rescued.

Most of the people I talked to seem optimistic about their futures. They want to return home, save what they can and start their lives over.

But when I asked one mother of three why she wanted to go back to New Orleans, she said, “Because I want to prove every naysayer wrong. We can rebuild our lives and nothing will hold us back, ever.”

The messages left behind are symbolic not only of the spirit of people in the Gulf Coast, but of people all across the nation. It is an undying determination to keep going on. Even in the shadow of what seemed to be an unrecoverable disaster, people have begun opening their arms and giving everything they can. I am proud to be a part of the spirit of humanity and kindness that has spread across the nation and the world.