7:30am:
My usual weekday morning ritual is to walk Dale, then to walk Chip, in the wee hours of the morning. Today, as Chip and I walked up the sidewalk to the front of the house, lit only by the bright lights above our door, I picked up the newspaper. It had been thrown on top of one of my flower beds further damaging the tender plants already withering from the summer heat. Chip stopped at the doorway waiting for the signal from me, that it was okay to enter. I said, "Go," and he raced in, the chain around his neck rattling and his paws thumping against the wooden floor. I wondered if Steve could hear this racket upstairs.
I walked over to his crate, where he sat patiently, and I gave him a kiss, like I always do (for being good) and I removed his collar. He jumped into his crate and he started devouring the food I had already placed there for him. As soon I shut the gate, Dale started jumping up and down, on queue, in his crate, asking to be set free. I let him out and as part of his morning routine, he exploded out of the gate, ran twice around the dining room table, and in a blur, he bounded up the staircase to the bedroom. This scene always reminds me of a greyhound race. I'm not sure how this routine started, but Dale loves it.
So, everything was routine up to this point. Nothing was unusual until I unfolded the paper and read the headlines of the Times-Picayune, the newspaper in New Orleans. It said something to the effect of, "Evacuation may start as early as Friday." Immediately I felt a surge of adrenaline course through my body, the chemical causing the walls of the blood vessels on the side of my head to throb and it caused my heart to throw itself repeatedly against my chest in rebellion. Since Hurricane Katrina, the imaginary latch which secures the gates holding my body's supply of adrenaline has weakened considerably. At the mere mention of the words, 'storm in the Atlantic,' the latch seems to melt away, as though the gate itself is seeking cover, evacuating before the storm, if you will.
We first learned about Gustav two days ago when one of Steve's brothers, called Steve and told him that another storm was brewing in the Atlantic (Tropical Storm Faye). Faye is still affecting parts of the southeastern parts of the country. Since then, we've been tracking Gustav's path. Several times a day, I'll check various websites, comparing the projected paths. With each successive prediction, I find more and more computer models that include southeast Louisiana in its cone of probability.
The lead story in the paper mentioned that our Governor, Bobby Jindal, could declare a state of emergency, as early as tomorrow. This would allow assisted evacuations to begin Friday. If he does make this declaration, you can bet people in New Orleans will begin evacuating Friday evening. The paper predicts we'll start to feel the winds from the outer bands sometime on Sunday.
Steve and I talked about this event as we got ready for work. Our current plans, not storm-related, is to fly up to Atlanta on Friday to kick-off the college football seaon. We plan to watch the game between Alabama and Clemson on Saturday, and return home on Sunday. Gustav, we now realize, could throw a wrench into our weekend getaway plans.
If Kim, the woman who watches Chip and Dale whenever we go out of town, decides to evacuate early, then that puts us in a real bind. We need her to watch the dogs until we get back on Sunday around noon. Steve is going to talk to Kim to see what she plans to do.
The other issue is the airline. At what point do the airlines decide that they will start to cancel flights into New Orleans due to the approaching storm. Will they be more eager to pull the trigger and stop flights earlier than normal, knowing the history of New Orleans and Katrina? If this happens, will we be stranded in Atlanta on Sunday? The current five-day projection shows the storm sitting 250 miles south of New Orleans on Monday at 2am, in the middle of the Gulf. That would mean that the storm would hit the coast Monday night or Tuesday morning.
As much as I hate to throw the word, uncertainty, around again since it had so much significance after Katrina in our city, that's exactly what we face now, uncertainty.
We'll know more over the next day or two. So until a decision is made on all fronts, Chip, Dale, and I will continue our daily 5:20am jaunts through the neighborhood, and Steve will continue sleeping-in until he can no longer stand the racket --- feet and paws pounding the floor, barking, howling --- that the three of us make as we start our day.
12:10pm:
I just spoke with Steve. He says that Kim, the woman who watches our dogs, says that unless its a Category 5 storm headed straight for New Orleans, they are not going to evacuate. That takes care of one of our concerns. Chip and Dale will be well cared for while we're gone. Regarding the question about the airline, Steve said he would call Delta to see if we could fly home earlier on Sunday. We also discussed possible places to evacuate in case we have to. It all depends on where the storm hits, but the possibilites include our condo in Pensacola, Steve's parent's house in Birmingham, or Steve's office. Of course, the dogs will accompany me wherever we go. Ever so galant, Steve volunteered to stay at East Jeff (the hospital where he works) in case of a mandatory evacuation.
The latest update to the computer models shows a wider dispersion of possible paths for Gustav, which is good news. It could hit anywhere between Houston and Pensacola. So, as of this point, I can say with some relief, Atlanta here we come. I'll be decked out in crimson, waving my crimson and white shaker, being as obnoxious as I can. I would love to sing that song, Rammer Jammer, as the seconds tick off in Alabama's favor. I love being obnoxious at away games. It's fun.
10:10pm
The following is taken from the Times-Picayune, printed yesterday:
Just two days before the third anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's onslaught
on the New Orleans area and the ensuing levee breaks, Gov. Bobby Jindal
declared a pre-storm state of emergency Wednesday, announcing the
mobilization of 3,000 National Guard troops with as many 5,000 call-ups
possible depending on the course of the storm. Gustav weakened Tuesday night
as it moved across Haiti, but was expected to regain hurricane strength by
today.New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin came home early from the Democratic
National Convention to help the city prepare. Jindal declared a state of
emergency Wednesday, which could begin an evacuation process.
