Sam's Story

Living in the South these past few months has taught me many different things: 1. if you ever say "you guys" in front of southerners you'll stick out as if you were wearing as sign plastered to your forehead screaming "Hey! I'm not from here!" 2. Always have a raincoat ready because you never know when the clouds will decide their bladder is full. 3. 9 out of 10 strangers are going to tell you their life story even if you didn't ask. All of these are undeniable, and slowly but surely you learn to adjust to life as a southerner. I don't think I will ever fully get used to having conversations with strangers as if I've known them for years. Yesterday as I got into my cab to go to the airport, my cab driver, Sam, smiled at me and asked, "How ya doin, honey?" He had what you call a "yatty" accent, meaning he sounded like he came straight from Brooklyn, but in fact has lived in New Orleans his entire life. Up North, most cab drivers could care less how I was doing, but Sam genuinely wanted to know. As the ride went on, Sam began telling me all the different places he has lived around the city, and how different his life was after the storm. In New Orleans when someone says "the storm" you instantly know what they are referring to. These past few months of living here, I have heard many different people's stories of what Katrina was like for them, but Sam's is one I don't think I will ever forget. About 10 minutes into the cab ride, Sam reached into the glove compartment box and pulled out a photo album full of pictures taken during and after the storm. While I looked through the album, Sam told me his story.

Three days before Hurricane Katrina was supposed to hit New Orleans Sam had his wife, 4 kids, and 8 grandchildren evacuate to Little Rock, Arkansas. Still not entirely convinced the storm was even actually going to hit ground, Sam decided to stay back, but wanted his family to leave just in case; if nothing happened, at least they would get a small vacation out of it. When the storm hit, Sam explained that it was just like any other typical New Orleans hurricane, and that once it was over, the weather was beautiful and sunny. Having lost power, Sam had no source communication with anyone, so he had no idea that the levees were going to/had broken. He heard yelling outside and thought it was some of the neighbor's kids playing in the street. He walked out his front door and looked up the street to see cars racing towards him, not being driven by people, but rather pushed by a wave of water and other scraps that had been swept away rushing towards him. Sam got in his car and drove has quickly as he could to a friend's house about 4 blocks away. After finding his friend, they met up with some others and found a roof of a building high enough so they were out of immediate danger from the 20ft deep raging water. Sam and the others stayed on this roof for 11 days. Around day 3, a boat floated by, and they were able to hot-wire it to start. Sam and a few others volunteered to go find food. The window's of a nearby supermarket had been smashed open by the sheer force of the water, so they were able to simply drive the boat into the supermarket and take canned foods and jugs of water right from the shelves. The next eight days, Sam and some other men spent their time driving the boat around neighborhoods, rescuing people from roofs and those who were trapped in their attics.  On day 11, Sam was finally able to call his family in Little Rock. When they heard his voice through the phone they all broke down into tears.  The pictures Sam took in the photo album made me speechless. I cannot even fathom what he, and the rest of New Orleans, went through. As he dropped me off at the airport, the last thing he said to me was that the saddest part of the whole storm for him was that his house full of pictures was gone, and that his grandchildren will never get to see what their life was like before the storm.