Katrina: Eyes Have Not Seen, Ears Have Not Heard: The Story of How an American City Was Taken Under Siege by Powerful Forces in Government

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© 2009 Gavin Richard. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 4/7/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4389-1644-6 (sc)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Foreword

Chapter 1: Life before 8-29-2005

Chapter 2: Here comes Tropical Depression # 12

Chapter 3:Testimonies of the Young and Old

Chapter 4: Did they break or were they blown up?

Chapter 5: The Truth about FEMA

Chapter 6: Where did all the money go?

Chapter 7: Gretna, O Lord Gretna

Chapter 8: The right to return and the right to decide who can return

Epilogue/ Poem: Part 2

Special Thanks

About the Author

The Life of the So called Refugee

BY

Gavin M. Richard

On August 29 was the day my life changed.

My whole life scattered and world rearranged.

Things I love will never be the same.

Now I realize the true ways of the game.

Because of Katrina my city has negative fame;

The looters, the crooked cops, the refugees that hop

From city to city, bottom to the top

And then the next day we thought we were okay

And then they blew the damn levee away.

The Blacks and the poor all left alone as the flood waters rushed into their homes.

Now Blanco’s telling the national guards to pull the triggers

Bush not concerned because to him we all niggers.

Nagin cusses out the bastard on the phone line,

Days later we see him hugging Bush’s behind, none of the leaders got no plans in mind.

Does anybody see what is going on?

It’s the lack of care that’s what’s wrong.

I didn’t put down this poem for cross-over appeal,

But just to let you all know how I feel.

So open your eyes and you’ll see the life of the so called refugee. (See part 2)

Introduction

When you say the name, no matter where you are or how old you are, you recognize it. If you were to eat a bowl of gumbo or have one, just one, grilled or fried shrimp po-boy, you recognize the taste and know where it comes from (some pretend to cook claim their food is just as good or better, but the people know that’s not true). It is a city that was built in 1718, surrounded by water, dubbing the nickname, Crescent City. Although it was surrounded by water, it was also surrounded by passion, love, and soul. It is known mainly for landmarks such as St. Louis Cathedral, the French Quarter, the ever popular Bourbon Street, the Louisiana Superdome, and Jackson Square, but there was a different side to New Orleans that the tourists have yet to comprehend.

What makes the city of New Orleans so unique and special is that it is a collection of a blanket of cultures. There are Native American, Creole, Spanish, French, African and others that give New Orleans the zing that makes it special. This zing covers and enfolds both tourists and natives alike. The most special culture in the city that attracts so many tourists is its African heritage. From the Essence Festival to Congo Square or in the gumbo that you eat, there is a deep African/Black American zest that makeup a large part of flavor, that zing that makes New Orleans special.

Before Katrina, New Orleans had the largest Black Catholic population in the United States. The distinct heritage of the African-American community has faced a crisis in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. A population that was once 75% African American has now been diluted to 55% or less by the white power structure that is hovering over the city. Some censuses of the population vary on the numbers, but two things are for sure: 1) There has been a change in life, and 2) Things may not ever be the same.

I remember the day August 28, 2005. The day before my life changed. There was a certain calmness and peace early that Sunday Morning. There was a light breeze and a certain feeling in that morning air. It was a feeling that maybe something bad was going to happen or that maybe we would dodge the bullet, like we had done in the past with Hurricane Georges of 1998 or Ivan of 2004. As we drove off, I said goodbye to my home and neighborhood just in case it was the last time. Unfortunately, it was.

As the events unfolded, we watched television from the comfort of a hotel in Dallas, TX. On that Monday morning, we were under the impression, as was everyone else, that everything was safe. Unfortunately that Monday night/Tuesday morning, we knew the worst had happened. The levees gave way to rising flood waters that swallowed the city. We knew that it would only be a matter of time before another hurricane would hit New Orleans and it was. Suddenly, something terrible happened. It was far greater than the damage the storm caused. It was the worst man made disaster to happen on USA soil. The damage from this disaster still continues to this day. Katrina is gone, but the government’s injustice still lives on and the victims still suffer.

I began to ask myself why? Why? Why do we suffer in AMERICA? Then as I saw the picture of the white couple finding and the black teen looting. It became clear to me why: because we don’t have the complexion for the protection. It was just a typical view of how the government, its media, and law enforcement feel about African-Americans in this country. This was also reflective with regards to the Crescent City Connection incident where the sick, dying and helpless people were turned around because they were coming from the city of New Orleans and the majority of them were black. Then, I heard another report about what really happened to those levees during the storm. Many people claim that the storm was over, and everything was fine until they heard a large explosion near the levees. So I ask myself these two important questions: 1) What really happened during the storm? and 2) WAS IT KATRINA OR MAN?

The roots of this book began shortly after Aug. 29, 2005 even though it wasn’t planned. I was staying in a gentleman’s home whose late wife was my Aunt Debbie’s best friend. We did not know this gentleman, but we grew to know and love him. Thank God for Mr. Albert Charles Odell because we would have been out on the streets if it weren’t for him. My eighty-eight year old grandfather became a buddy for Mr. Ace during the two months we stayed in his Baton Rouge home. My brother began to work again for Walgreen’s and my mother and father were relocated, but still kept their jobs. I on the other hand, transferred from Tulane University College to Southern University A & M in Baton Rouge, LA.

In a Political Science Seminar class, around early February, the idea to write a book on the aftermath became clear. A young teacher, who believed he knew everything about Katrina, said something very shocking to me in the classroom. He stated that because there were poor people living in the city of New Orleans, then Katrina wasn’t really a bad thing. Now being in an emotional and defensive state, I argued for the people of New Orleans. He insisted, along with others, that the poor people moved. I asked him this question: How would you feel if your home was devastated by a hurricane? He stated that if poor people had to move to another city such as Atlanta, GA. he wouldn’t mind. They would be moving from rags to riches.

After these comments, I became enraged. I became very enraged. I was enraged not just at what the man said, but the way I was treated in the entire city. The fact is that in some places around the Baton Rouge area, Black New Orleans’s citizens were treated in a disregarded, disrespected, and despised manner. What made this so hurtful was that most of the potshots taken towards us came from our own black people. I was in disbelief when I got here when the mayor of Baton Rouge, Kip Holden, declared that he didn’t want any thugs in his city. I will talk about that later on in a future discussion. This anger and frustration allowed me to write this documentary of the many things we all experienced.

I wrote this book for all those to read and understand the horror our people experienced on August 29, 2005 and beyond. So, I hope that this book not only entertains you, but also enlighten you. I hope that this book will enlighten your mind and for you to get up and stand up. I hope that this will get you involved, and to never forget what occurred on that dreadful day. It’s well known that some people do not want this story to be told because they say it is propaganda, it’s in the past, or that it is not from a governmental expert. Ask them like such, How do you know that? and How can you tell me about my struggle or what I’ve been through? Tell them; This is Our Story!!!

Get angry, but don’t let that anger control you. It’s okay to be sad, but know that there is hope. So, I dedicate this book to all those who lost their lives as a result of Hurricane Katrina, as well as those from the governments’ lack of response, and those who now three years later continue to suffer. You will have to decide, with the information contained here, whether or not it was KATRINA or MAN?

Foreword

You ask me to speak but I have no tongue. My words are muffled. Frustrating sounds of indiscernible words. Words that are silenced only by tears which you do not see. Tears that roll down constantly from cloudy eyes.

Hurricane Katrina only slightly brushed the Louisiana coastline. Yet, her skirt tails whipped the veil off of the true face of the racism that exist in the minds and hearts of thousands of high ranking public officials. A thin permeated veil allowing only a miniscule amount of sympathy to selfishly leak out only when convenient to bring about a selfish one way idea. An idea only satisfying the whims of a prejudicial agenda. An agenda controlled by the powerful in the city that care forgot. Thus living up to the underlying true nature of those who would have the city all to its own.

Exposed and revealed, this wrinkled scarred maniacal face of New Orleans began to prejudicially respond only when confronted by pressures from around the world. A world shocked beyond disbelief that the American government did not respond immediately, but waddled its way through a maze of confusion and utter deliberate incompetence. This governments response in assisting its own people only out of cries from those who shouted loud enough to be heard, was at best inept.

Amidst the charade of back-patting and giving false praises to those who refused to comprehend the extent of the psychological damages placed on the oppressed, there were those who stood shocked and stunned. Shocked at the extent of the incompetence exhibited by the government’s bumbling response and stunned at the lack of planning and assistance that followed. Now, these moral and ethical people have been left with no choice but to question the power welding forces that orchestrated the abandonment of its people.

Why are we still struggling three years after Hurricane Katrina to come back to New Orleans? Why hasn’t there been a massive movement to establish medical services in neighborhoods that once were abundant with doctors? Why hasn’t there been a resurgence of schools in the neighborhoods where children once walked and played?

I know that Hurricane Katrina was a natural event. We had no control over where it came from or where it ended. Such disasters could have happened anywhere. New York, San Diego, or Denver. However if the majority of the inhabitants of those cities were African American, the response by our government would have been the same. Racism would have raised its ugly head and would have taken the opportunity to selfishly attain "MATERIALISTIC GOLD" at the expense of the oppressed masses.

By Leon D. Richard

Chapter 1: Life before 8-29-2005

Before I speak about the atrocities that happened in the Big Easy during and after the levee breakage, I must talk about life before Katrina. I must give you the history that our people played in the building of New Orleans past and the present. As comedian Bill Cosby stated in his speech at the April 1, 2006 rally, What was the village before Katrina?1 I was born in New Orleans, LA. in 1986. My mother and father were hard working parents. My father is a pharmacist and my mother was a medical technologist at the VA hospital in New Orleans. We lived in the New Orleans East area since 1978. I grew up in that area for nineteen years and I saw the ups and the downs of the community.

By the late 19th century, there were plantations and small villages along the small narrow strip on what is presently known, as Old Gentilly Road. New Orleans East is the largest section of the Ninth Ward, which is the largest district in New Orleans.2 There was little residential development, and there were homes set up along Lake Pontchartrain. These homes were built on wooden pilings on the edge of Lake Ponctchartrain. The oldest area of New Orleans East is Little Woods.3 The Industrial Canal, which would become infamous for the water breaching into the Lower 9th Ward, would be the visible barrier separating the East from the rest of the city in the 1920s. Residential development did not take off until the late 1940s, after World War II.

In the early 1970’s until the early 1990’s, New Orleans East was the place to be. Residents from all over the city moved to New Orleans East. There were jobs, money, a beautiful mall, movie theaters, stores, restaurants and more. The Plaza Mall was one of the best attractions of New Orleans, let alone New Orleans East. It was the only part of the city that was in development because it injected new blood into the city. When businesses started to pick up under Mayor Moon Landrieu (1969-1978), the area was predominately white. For the whites, it was a safe haven from the inner city. Since the inner city was becoming poorer and industries were leaving, more blacks moved to the East for better opportunities, both socially and economically.4

For blacks, it offered a new opportunity. Rev. Tom Watson gave his reason why he came to New Orleans East in 1980. Rev Watson and his family lived there for twelve years. In this interview, he explains why he and others came out to New Orleans East:

The availability of property that was not expensive, but quality… A refreshing atmosphere, a refreshing environment to live in at that time…I was eager. To be honest, there was no place in the inner city that I wanted to live in at that point... I wanted to live in the new suburbia.5

In the late 1970s, an oil boom occurred along the Gulf Coast. The oil boom was an opportunity for more businesses to come to the area. The development of this area became known as New Orleans East, since the area originally was called Eastern New Orleans. Unfortunately, the oil boom lasted for just a short time and the oil boom became an oil bust.6 Afterwards, businesses still were going strong, but one by one, in the early 1990s, they began to disappear. First Sears, then Dillards before it relocated into the Maison Blanche building, Mervyn’s and finally Maison Blanche. Then, some of the same elements in the inner city, such as crime, poverty, and increased unemployment, started to make its way into the area.

Despite these problems, New Orleans East was a powerhouse for New Orleans blacks. It was also the largest tax base in the city of New Orleans representing over forty percent 7 of the total tax base of the city. It remained the largest area among voting turnouts for African-Americans, and predominately Democrats. The East was over 85 % black and middle class, living in areas such as Eastover, Lake Kenilworth, and Lake Forest Estates and to the west, Spring Lake.8 It also included a vibrant Vietnamese community in the historic Village de L’Est, and a vibrant Caucasian community in the Venetian Isles Area. Historic landmarks also included, Fort Pike on the Rigolets, NASA’s Michoud Assembly facility, and the Lakefront airport. We’ll go forward with this name, Joe W. Brown, later on as we discuss the fight for the right to return. Joe W. Brown park was also a major part of the New Orleans East landscape. It had tennis courts, swimming pools and also an exhibit for insects.

Algiers owns the title of being the oldest neighborhood in the entire city.9 Like New Orleans East, Algiers was founded as a plantation in 1719, the year New Orleans was actually founded. This is where the first slaves arrived and then shipped to Congo Square. The oldest neighborhood in the area is Algiers Turn, better known as Algiers Point. The name was given since the Mississippi River turns around the area and then flows to the Gulf of Mexico from the mouth of Mississippi River. Other neighborhoods include Whitney, Fisher Development, McDonough, U.S. Naval Support Area, which is the largest military base in New Orleans, Behrman Highway, Old Aurora and Tall Timbers/Brechtel.

Algiers is predominately African-American. The Berhman neighborhood is comprised of 77% African-American and is the largest community in Algiers.

It also includes a large Hispanic population of 6.6 percent in that area. Despite the beliefs by outsiders who insist that the poor people moved, the majority of these people owned their own homes. It is basically a mixed income area with some low and some middle class citizens. The area is historic, especially after Algiers Point was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1978 and a historic district in 1994.10

Now, the next neighborhood I will cover is one that we’re all too familiar with. To New Orleans residents, it was known for its blue collar, family orientated environment. For those that were watching television around the world from August 30, 2005 to present, Katrina was the worst natural and man made disaster in U.S. history. To me, it was a place where my brother and I spent our summers and days off