Blogging from New Orleans
Not me — I’m blogging from the Denver airport, on my way from Boston to California. Why someone who lives in Chicago would be flying from Boston to California is too complicated to explain.
Despite the weak coffee here, I’m sure I’m in much more comfortable surroundings than Lindsay Beyerstein from Majikthise, Bob Brigham from Swing State Project (and now Operation Flashlight), and Kyle Shank from Americablog. (It’s not perfectly clear who all is going along, so there may be others for all I know.) They have made the trip down to New Orleans, both to report what they see and to help out where possible. (For example, working to extend the Voting Rights Act to prevent evacuees from become involuntarily disenfranchised.)
The reports are chilling. Lindsay:
The Convention Center was truly horrifying: A sea of filthy orange-upolstered institutional chairs. Blocks and blocks of chairs set out on the sidewalk. Mountains of trash. Abandoned supplies rotting in the sun — cases of muffins, an entire crate of coffee creamers upended, dirty needles, unopened bottles of sparkling cider that looked like champagne, rhinestone earings still in their packages, a tiny Spiderman flip-flop, water bottles full of urine, strollers, several barbeques… The 82nd Airborne was on the scene in their red berets. Black Hawk helicopters were taking off and landing across the parking lot. It’s really something to see a Black Hawk skimming the horizon of a devastated American city.
Kyle:
Unreal.
That’s the only word I can think of to describe what I’ve experienced today. The moment you step in it’s as if you’ve entered another reality. Helicopters dart overhead and pound a rhythm into the horrific scene. The stench of death and suffering overwhelm the senses. It’s a smell that doesn’t make sense until you’ve seen the filth the victims had to cope with. Try to think about all the worst possible scents combined; I guarantee it’s worse. Chairs, clothing, and drinks remain in the same position as if those people just vanished into the air you’re breathing in. Your mind goes numb during that brief inhale and you can only try to imagine what these abandoned citizens went through. Being in New Orleans is like soaking yourself in unthinkable despair.
And Bob:
We are in Jefferson Parish, just outside of New Orleans. At the National Guard checkpoint, they are under orders to turn away all media. All of the reporters are turning they’re TV trucks around.
Things are so bad, Bush is now censoring all reporting from NOLA. The First Amendment sank with the city.
Fortunately they managed to make it in, with the 82nd airborne. Keep checking back at each blog as updates appear.
Blogging from New Orleans Read More »