Remembering New Orleans

The room was a jumbled chaos. Black stains were splattered across every wall, floor, and ceiling. The bed was disheveled and water-stained. Dried mud covered everything. The carpet bulged with rot. The furniture laid atop one another in mass confusion. Static water dripped from the light fixture above.

After a deep breath behind our protective masks, we delved into the room. First, we removed the jumbled mess of furniture to the lawn, along with the rest of damaged goods we found lying on the floor. The lawn itself was covered with a mountain of garbage nearly reaching the rooftop in height. It was a mountain of loss reflected across every single lawn on the block.

Within a couple of hours, the room was cleared of the largest furnishings. It was only then did we notice a closet across the room. Its door had not opened. It seemed undamaged. An eerie feeling came upon us: We heard others talk of finding bodies from the storm. We were afraid that this unknown room held such a being.

Finally, we mustered the courage to open the door. No body laid in it- only dirtied memories. Over a dozen baseball caps lay neatly in a stack on the floor. The caps were from different athletic teams throughout the country. One could imagine the memories these caps held. Perhaps, the owner traveled to various cities and states to watch the teams. Perhaps, he was an avid fan who watched the games on a television with family and friends cheering, laughing, and enjoying everyone's company.

Underneath the caps, laid boxes and books of family photos. At first, it seemed wrong looking at intimate moments in the lives of strangers, yet we were too invested in the lives of the homeowner to feel unrelated. Pictures of young children smiling for class pictures, elderly grandparents holding their grandchildren, and joyful friends filled these damaged books. Visions of birthday parties, weddings, and graduations attended were evident. Portions of photographs seemed to have disappeared as water erased traces of these memories.

It was at that moment, I felt truly connected to those who suffered. After two days of demolishing a house, I finally realized what was lost in the flood. Lives were taken, homes were destroyed, memories were damaged forever. With every inch that pile on the lawn grew, the more these moments in time were erased.