My Katrina Story

Katrina, which hit on August 29, 2005, transformed the landscape of my childhood. In the midst of this watery chaos, my mother, my eight-year-old self, and my sister faced the daunting task of navigating through the rising floodwaters. The city, once familiar and bustling, had transformed into an unrecognizable expanse of water and wreckage.

Our family, like countless others, became part of the exodus from New Orleans. Displaced and disoriented, we sought refuge at the UNO Lakefront Arena, a temporary shelter that became a makeshift home for countless evacuees.

After spending a harrowing night at the UNO Lakefront Arena, my mother with bat in hand the military intervened, offering a lifeline in the form of transport across the city and the Veterans Memorial Bridge. The journey was a surreal odyssey, passing over vast expanses of water that had once been familiar streets and neighborhoods.

From there, my mother, my sister, and I continued our journey to seek assistance from the Dallas Red Cross. Dallas became a temporary haven, providing shelter and support as we grappled with the uncertainty of our future. I was tired as a child but the experience showed me alot about family and community