I Survived Hurricane Katrina, 2005 Page 4

  She put a hand on Cruz’s head. The dog didn’t growl. Like Barry, he seemed hypnotized.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked.

  Barry’s throat was dry and swollen. But he managed to say his name.

  “I’m Nell,” she said. “Where’s your family?”

  Barry looked around him at the endless water. His eyes filled with tears.

  Nell put her hands on Barry’s shoulders.

  “How about we get you and your friend out of here?” she asked. “Sound like a plan?”

  Barry wiped his eyes and somehow choked out the word “yes.”

  Barry and Cruz climbed into the boat after Nell.

  Nell handed Barry a big bottle of water. She filled a cup for Cruz and held it while he lapped the water up. Barry gulped down his water, almost choking at first. When he was finished, he took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say thank you, but the only sound that came out was a sob. Suddenly tears were pouring down his face.

  He turned away from Nell.

  She had called him a brave soul. So why couldn’t he act brave?

  He was finally off that roof. But now all the terror he’d felt those past hours came back to him, second by second. He felt as if he was shrinking, as though his fear was boiling up inside him and he was melting away.

  “We’re going to the St. Claude Avenue Bridge,” Nell said. “There will be people to help you there.”

  Of course there would be. Police and firemen. Doctors and nurses. Barry knew what happened in disasters. He’d seen it on the news. He imagined a big tent on the bridge, with cots set up in neat rows. He would get fresh clothes, more water, good food. The people there would know how to track down Mom and Dad and Cleo.

  Barry took a deep breath.

  Nell carefully wove the little boat through the maze of uprooted trees and wreckage. People stranded on rooftops called to them as they rode by.

  “Help us!”

  “We’ve got a baby here!”

  “We’re hurt! Please help!”

  Nell called back to all of them.

  “I’ll be back!” she said over and over. “Hang on there! I’ll be back.”

  She whispered a prayer under her breath.

  “There are thousands of people stranded, just here in the Lower Nine,” Nell said to Barry. “I’ve already picked up more than thirty people.”

  Finally the bridge appeared in the distance.

  And even from far away, Barry could see that there were no tents. No flashing lights or police cars or fire engines or ambulances.

  Other boats — little boats, like Nell’s — pulled up to the bridge, let people off, and then headed back out into the water. There were at least a hundred people packed on the bridge. Families huddled together; old couples sat on the ground; people walked around dazed.

  Was Nell really going to leave Barry there by himself?

  CHAPTER 15

  Nell eased the boat onto the ramp that led to the bridge. Part of the bridge was underwater, but the middle part was high enough that it had stayed dry.

  Nell switched off the engine.

  “You’ll be okay here,” she said. “They’re bringing people to the Superdome. Someone will help you there.”

  Barry wanted to believe her. But he knew that even before the storm hit, there had been huge crowds. And not enough food or water. What would it be like now?

  And besides, they wouldn’t let him in with Cruz.

  Barry’s fear started to boil up again.

  A man came running over.

  “Pardon me,” he said to Nell, breathing hard. “I’m trying to find my grandmother. She’s out there, all alone, up on her roof. I need to get to her, I need …”

  “I’ll take you,” Nell said.

  The man nodded, wiping away a tear.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

  Barry knew he had to get out of the boat. Nell had other people to help, like she’d helped him.

  Nell leaned over and put her hand under Barry’s chin, lifting his face so he had to look at her.

  She didn’t say anything for a moment. She just looked into his eyes, like she saw something there worth looking at.

  “You’re strong,” she said with no doubt in her voice.

  Barry didn’t feel strong. His whole body shook as he got out of the boat.

  Cruz followed him. They stood on the ramp and watched as the man pushed the boat into deeper water. He climbed in beside Nell.

  Nell nodded at Barry, and he suddenly had the idea he’d never see her again. She powered up her engine and the boat pulled away.

  As Barry watched Nell disappear, her words echoed through his mind.

  You’re strong. You’re strong.

  And soon it wasn’t Nell’s voice he was hearing in his mind.

  It was his own voice.

  I am strong. I am strong.

  Was he?

  He was scared. He was standing there crying, his legs quivering like skinny little twigs in the wind.

  But did that mean he wasn’t strong?

  Barry thought about what had happened to him. How he’d been swept off the roof and carried away. How he’d grabbed hold of that tree and climbed up. How he’d held on tightly against the wind and the rain. How he’d saved Cruz. How they’d made their way through the wreckage to that tiny dry patch of roof.

  He’d felt scared the entire time.

  But here he was, standing on dry ground. In one piece.

  He looked up, and there was his bright star. Barry’s star.

  And right then he knew that no matter how scared he felt, he’d find his way.

  Or someone would find him.

  An hour passed, and Barry heard a familiar voice.

  “Barry! Barry!”

  And then other voices, calling his name, together, like a song.

  Dad reached him first. Then Mom and Cleo.

  Their arms wrapped around Barry.

  And they stood there together for a long time.

  The four Tuckers and Cruz, a tiny island in a huge sea.

  CHAPTER 16

  SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2005

  RIVERSIDE PARK, NEW YORK CITY

  Barry sat on a bench in the shade. Mom and Dad were standing a few feet away, watching Cleo climb up the jungle gym. Cruz was snoozing at Barry’s feet. Barry had a sketchbook open on his lap, and he was looking at his new drawing of Akivo. He’d finished that morning, keeping his promise to Jay. It had been Jay’s idea that they could still enter the contest. Jay had even called the Acclaim offices from his grandma’s house in Birmingham.

  “I told them the whole story,” he said. “The man said we can still enter. And they want to meet you!”

  Barry wasn’t surprised to hear that.

  Even four weeks later, Katrina was the biggest story in the country. Every time Barry turned on the TV or got into a taxi with Mom or Dad, another voice was talking about the hurricane.

  “This is the worst disaster ever to hit America.”

  “This is a national tragedy.”

  “A great American city has been destroyed.”

  And everyone wanted to hear their story.

  The kids at Barry’s new school. The man who made their sandwiches at the deli on the corner. Strangers who overheard Mom talking at the bank. They all wanted to know about Katrina. They listened with wide eyes. And then they all said pretty much the same thing: They said the Tuckers were lucky.

  Barry knew that was true.

  Mom said it was a miracle that they’d found Barry on the bridge. Some families had been separated for days or weeks. Some still hadn’t found each other.

  And of course there were people who had died — more than a thousand. They were still finding bodies in attics.

  Barry had nightmares about the storm. He didn’t sleep much. Even the sound of Dad turning on the shower in the morning made Barry’s heart jump.

  But yes, he knew he was lucky.

  Luckier than th
e tens of thousands of people who’d been stranded for days in the hot and terrifying Superdome. Or the people who’d been stuck on bridges and highways and rooftops.

  The Tuckers hadn’t gone to the Superdome. They had gone to Lightning’s. They’d stayed with Dave for two days and then caught a bus to Houston. Dave boarded up the club and went to Baton Rouge. By then even he realized that the city wasn’t safe.

  The cousins in Houston spoiled them rotten for one week. Mom and Dad talked about moving there, finding an apartment nearby. But then a call came from the president of that famous music college in New York. There was a job for Dad if he wanted, teaching about New Orleans music. There was an apartment too, with furniture and room for the whole family.

  A week later, they were here.

  Cruz too. He was part of the family now. The Red Cross had helped Dad track down Abe and his grandma in Little Rock, Arkansas. Abe and Barry had talked on the phone. And Abe — the old Abe — had asked Barry if he would keep Cruz.

  “He’s not a killer,” Abe said.

  “I figured that out.” They had a good laugh.

  And they cried a little too, when they talked about their neighborhood.

  Barry hoped he would see Abe again one day.

  Mom and Dad came over and sat next to Barry on the bench. Cleo waved from the top of the slide.

  Dad looked at Barry’s drawing of Akivo.

  “That is really something,” Dad said.

  “Thanks,” said Barry, who liked this one even better than the original. Akivo had a sidekick now, a mutt with floppy ears. And he had a guardian angel — a beautiful fairy in a yellow rubber raft.

  “He looks like you,” Mom said.

  “That’s right,” Dad said. “I see it too.”

  Barry stared at the picture, and he saw what Mom and Dad meant. Akivo’s face — it did look something like Barry’s.

  “I guess you feel a little like a superhero yourself,” Mom said.

  “Nah,” Barry said, his cheeks heating up. But really, he did.

  Out there in the flood, Barry had discovered some powers of his own.

  When it was time to go back to the apartment, Barry went to pluck Cleo off the jungle gym. He heard her singing, “On Blueberry Hill …,” and he smiled. Dad told Barry he’d sung that song a million times when they’d been on the roof. Dad had jumped into the floodwater after Barry, but the current had been too strong. He’d fought his way back to Mom and Cleo. The three of them had waited out the storm. Mom said that Dad had called Barry’s name so many times that he’d lost his voice.

  They walked back to Broadway, Barry pushing Cleo in her stroller.

  Mom pointed out a bakery with a HELP WANTED sign in the window. Dad said they should go to the Bronx Zoo later. Or the American Museum of Natural History.

  “There’s so much to see,” Mom said.

  “We have plenty of time,” Dad said.

  It was true. They had time.

  But not forever.

  Barry knew they would go back to New Orleans, where they belonged.

  When would that be?

  When would their city be healed?

  Barry didn’t ask Mom and Dad those questions.

  He already knew the answer.

  One day.

  One day.

  AFTER THE STORM: QUESTIONS ABOUT KATRINA

  For many years before Hurricane Katrina, experts had warned that levees in New Orleans were not strong enough to withstand a powerful hurricane. In August 2005, their worst predictions came true. Katrina’s 125-mile-per-hour winds sent a gigantic wave of water from the Gulf of Mexico into the canals and lakes surrounding New Orleans. All of that water pushed up against the levees, and many of them failed, some crumbling like the walls of sandcastles. Billions of gallons of water gushed into New Orleans.

  Nearly 1,000 people drowned in the first hours of the flooding. Tens of thousands more were like the Tuckers — caught in a nightmare, struggling to survive as water filled their homes. Thousands of people were rescued from their rooftops and attics, often by volunteers like Nell. Nearly 50,000 were stranded in the Superdome in agonizing heat, without enough food or water. It took five full days for help to arrive, and another week before everyone was evacuated from the city.

  In the weeks and months after Katrina, many wondered if the great American city of New Orleans would ever recover. There was so much damage. Tens of thousands of houses were destroyed, as well as schools, hospitals, police stations, roads, and businesses. There was no electricity or clean water, and 80 percent of the city was covered with water filled with toxic chemicals and waste. The city’s 440,000 residents were scattered all around the country.

  But New Orleans did survive. And years later, it continues to recover — building by building, house by house, tree by tree, road by road, family by family. Seventy-five percent of residents have returned. To many visitors, the city seems as vibrant as it always was, with unforgettable music and food, beautiful buildings and gardens, and streets that bustle with energy unlike any other city in America.

  But in some of the poorest and hardest-hit neighborhoods, recovery has been painfully slow. If Barry were to come back to the Lower Ninth Ward today, he would see few of his neighbors smiling down from their porches. Much of the Lower Nine is still abandoned. Only 19 percent of that neighborhood’s residents have returned.

  I’ve studied dozens of natural disasters over the years — earthquakes and volcanic eruptions and shipwrecks and blizzards and hurricanes. But none of these events made me feel as sad — or as angry — as I felt reading about the horrifying experiences of those who lived through Katrina. Why didn’t our leaders do a better job protecting the beautiful city of New Orleans and its citizens? With so many warnings about the dangers of flooding, why wasn’t more done to make the levees stronger? Why was help so slow to arrive to the survivors?

  As a writer of fiction, I could give Barry and his family a happy ending. But even after reading everything I could find about this storm, I could not find the answers to these questions.

  FACTS ABOUT HURRICANE KATRINA

  • Hurricane Katrina was one of the worst disasters to ever strike the United States. Millions of people in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama lost their homes and businesses. The death toll reached 1,800, including 1,500 who lost their lives in New Orleans.

  • More than 340,000 people evacuated from New Orleans before the storm hit. An estimated 100,000 stayed behind. Many of these people were too old or sick to easily make the trip. Others didn’t have cars or couldn’t afford the costs of evacuation—gas for their cars; train, bus, or plane tickets; hotel rooms. Some thought the storm wouldn’t be as bad as predicted.

  • Among those who stayed behind was Fats Domino. The famous musician, then seventy-seven years old, was with his family in their home in the Lower Ninth Ward. Like the Tuckers’, Domino’s house flooded quickly when the Industrial Canal levee failed. Mr. Domino and his family escaped into their attic. They were rescued the next day, and spent the rest of the week at the Superdome before taking a bus to Baton Rouge and finally landing in Texas. His famous yellow house still stands, but it is in ruins.

  • Katrina also caused a crisis for the animals of New Orleans. Pets were banned from the Superdome, and after the storm, few people were allowed to bring their pets on buses leaving the city. Tens of thousands of pets were stranded without food and water after the storm.

  • In the weeks after the flood, the Humane Society of the United States organized the biggest animal rescue in history. Hundreds of volunteers from all over the country came to New Orleans. They broke into boarded-up houses, plucked dogs and cats from rooftops and trees, and even rescued pigs and goats. Many animals were reunited with their owners. Others were sent to shelters across America to be adopted by new families.

  • Americans donated more than $1 billion to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Other countries donated too. The largest donor was the government of Kuwait, which ga
ve $500 million.

  • Hurricane Katrina was the fiftieth recorded hurricane to pass through Louisiana.

  I Survived the Sinking of the Titanic

  George Calder must be the luckiest kid alive. He and his little sister, Phoebe, are sailing with their aunt on the Titanic, the greatest ship ever built. George can’t resist exploring every inch of the incredible boat, even if it keeps getting him into trouble.

  Then the impossible happens—the Titanic hits an iceberg and water rushes in. George is stranded, alone and afraid, on the sinking ship. He’s always gotten out of trouble before … but how can he survive this?

  I Survived the Shark Attacks of 1916

  Chet Roscow is finally feeling at home in Elm Hills, New Jersey. He has a job with his uncle Jerry at the local diner, three great friends, and the perfect summertime destination: cool, refreshing Matawan Creek.

  But Chet’s summer is interrupted by shocking news. A great white shark has been attacking swimmers along the Jersey shore, not far from Elm Hills. Everyone in town is talking about it. So when Chet sees something in the creek, he’s sure it’s his imagination … until he comes face-to-face with a bloodthirsty shark!

  About the Author

  Photo by David Dreyfuss

  Lauren Tarshis is the author of I Survived the Shark Attacks of 1916 and I Survived the Sinking of the Titanic, 1912, as well as the critically acclaimed Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell Out of a Tree and Emma-Jean Lazarus Fell in Love. She is the editor of Storyworks magazine and can be found online at www.laurentarshis.com.

  Copyright

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