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Atchafalaya Basin along I-10

The last stop for fuel was 2.5 hours from home. The farther south we drove, the more damage we encountered. We had seen videos on social media, texts, and the news, but seeing the devastation up close was jarring to the senses. The closer to home, the more my husband rattled (talked nonstop). I needed a little quiet to calm the chaos in my brain so I put the rosary on. How suiting that the Sorrowful Mysteries were the prayers today. That kept him quiet for a while and then his anxiety hit again. I put the Divine Mercy prayers on. He calmed down for a while again. I was feeling the same anxiety but I tend to internalize my emotions and needed quiet to think. Not my husband. He was a ball of anxiety and the closer to home we got the worse it became. He plays the what-if game. I prefer to wait and deal in facts. Lucy and Ricky were headed for a showdown at the OK corral.

There were some odd sites along Louisiana Highway 1 as we drove south along the bayou that had taken on a lot of change over the last couple of days. Offshore boats broke loose from their moorings and turned across the bayou. Ripped houseboats. Downed power lines. We have never evacuated for a hurricane so there were a lot of firsts for me. The farther south and closer to home we drove, the more anxious we became; the calm of prayers were long gone and had been replaced with trepidation.

Some of our first glimpses of the bayou
It was strange to see every power pole down. The entire energy grid has to be rebuilt.
This boat broke loose from its moorings and turned to block the bayou.
Poles either down or snapped.

Our first glimpse as we were traveling south was of our houseboat, which by some miracle, had not broken the lines. It was still secure to the piling, although the wharf and pilings were not quite where they were supposed to be. Our wharf is now a ‘U’ shape as opposed to straight, but everything held. Once we got over the shock of seeing our boat, we turned our attention to the right side of the road and our home. The neighbor had trees down in his yard which prevented us from seeing our house. We drove up to one gate having been ripped from its hinges and the other thrown open and bent.

Our houseboat and boathouse. Four of the six ropes were broken.

 

It was when I looked up that I was stunned into silence. We drove halfway through the gate and had to stop. Both of the large pecan trees that had taken residence in our front yard lay uprooted, fighting it out with the crepe myrtles for yard space. The beautiful magnolia tree looks like it took a trip through a shredder that took pride in its job. The thirty beautiful white crepe myrtles that once graced our driveway had twisted like licorice before the branches were splintered from their trunks and lying across the driveway making it impossible to traverse. In the middle of the mess laid an electrical wire.

We had to get out and walk to see our house, the view completely obstructed from where we sat stunned. As we picked our way through the soaking wet yard, my favorite tree, a red maple, and our cottage came into view. Our house was standing and what a welcome sight! At first glance, it looked untouched but looks can often be deceiving. We had been prepared to see plywood on our roof as we had gotten word from a neighbor that most of the shingles were gone as well as the black paper. Knowing and seeing your roof missing are two different feelings.

We saw the north side first and while it had a lot of damage, it was the south side that had taken the worst hit. We didn’t know what damage, if any, we would find when we rounded the corner at the back of our house. When we learned that the roof was wounded, our hope was that the barn was still secure and our Airstream unharmed as we knew we would need a place to live while we repaired the roof. One of the doors to the bay where my husband’s truck was, had been ripped open, and the doors to the bay where the Airstream lives were intact.

It took some powerful wind to tear that door open from its latches and padlocks. It looked like the Hulk had ripped it open. Everything inside was intact and we were relieved. The neighbor’s barn and carport had been ripped apart and the entire carport is sitting across the fence gracing the area between our barn and back patio. He will need to use a tractor to pull it out of its position. It managed to clip the edge of the facing on the patio but it is minor damage compared to what it could have been.

Looking to the backyard, the chicken couple had been moved from one side of the garden to the other. I could see three chickens. We still don’t know where the fourth is. I had to walk to see them. I miss Calypso and she loved the chickens. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. One chicken, bless her heart was lying in the grass with wounds to her back. There were feathers everywhere. One chicken was walking around and it looked a little lost but okay. The third was still in the chicken house. I walked back to the house and a neighbor had stopped by and I told him the chickens looked traumatized. He told that he saw the chicken coup roll over to one area, back to another, and then another place, before ending right side up in its current spot. He also said he saw a neighbors dog running around in our yard. Things began to fall into an ugly place. The feeding trough was nowhere to be found so I grabbed a pan and some feed to see if I could coax them to eat. When I put the food down, one chicken ran up to eat, the injured chicken just lay there and I had to coax the third to come out and I saw feathers missing and injuries to her back as well. That was the reason she was so skittish. There were feathers everywhere. I noticed that the badly injured chicken needed to be put down. There were ants crawling to her wounds and it broke my heart. Not only had they been tossed around by 140 mph winds, but the dang dog had also attacked them. After explaining the situation to my husband, I told him He needed to put her down. I kind of feel bad for all the times I told them that if they wanted to eat, they better lay eggs!

Turning our attention to the back patio our hearts sank. One of the beautiful new lantern lights was gone. Missing. Completely. From the trajectory, we think the culprit was a piece of tin from a neighbor across the way. That one piece of tin cut a swath through our patio before wrapping itself around the post. Not only did it take out my pretty light, but it also took out some of my little string lights.

The neighbor next door had half of the side of his barn torn off and his back carport and that is now resting in our yard. Insulation is tangled in the fence and thousands of little pieces of pink litter my flower garden along with twisted pieces of tin. My two birdhouses are down. The arbor and gate are intact. And from next door the damage to the south side roof is visible. Really bad but not as bad as I envisioned. I have a pretty active imagination.

And, if you have seen videos of Southern Louisiana, I am truly blessed. While it sounds like I am complaining I really am not. I’m just detailing our story. When you see others with completely missing roofs and sides of houses and windows blown out, let’s just say that while my roof is raining inside and I feel like I’m using a teaspoon to bail the boat, I still have a roof. And my husband, his brother, and brother-in-law are patching the roof between thunderstorms. While I am sitting here with an ice pack on my back, it is pouring outside and I hear dripping all around me.

My bathroom floor has been soaked and is buckling due to the moisture. Our entire house has beautiful maple flooring. There’s a story behind the floor, but I will save it for another day. I sit here looking at the mess around me and think I am not putting all of this stuff back under the bed! We’ve pulled the rugs from under the bed and dining table. They are rolled up waiting for a sunny day so hopefully, we can dry the dampness out of them. The bedroom ceiling sprung leaks, water came in around the bathroom heater light, it’s raining down my dining room window and I can’t keep up. The roaring thunder is keeping time with what sounds like a running faucet in the garage.

I keep moving that bucket and the drip keeps moving. I give up. I’m tired. I told my husband that I am like the tortoise. I am pacing myself. I’ve been sick the past month and don’t want to overdo it.

We are blessed. We evacuated with a friend to his sister’s house north of Baton Rouge at the last possible moment and ended up with wonderful Christian people. They opened their home to us and we are forever grateful. We now have connections for a new roof and we had a safe journey home. The oak tree that needed trimming got a huge trim courtesy of Ida. The top branch that made my red maple tree look like it was cheerleading, is no longer there. It was left courtesy of another storm. Our Crepe myrtles didn’t need quite that much trimmed off but oh well, Mother Nature went a little crazy when she got to our yard.

On the other side of our house, the neighbors had tall pine trees snap and at least one huge oak tree uprooted. Their house is sporting a blue tarp. There’s damage all about. It’s going to take time to recover and we are hoping the little disturbances in the Atlantic stay there.

My view out of my front door looks like a war zone almost.

And this is who told us it was time to evacuate, kept us safe, and brought us home. Our Lord and Savoie, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Were you in the path of Hurricane Ida? Leave a comment below and let me know how you are fairing.