By Leonard Williams, NSU '93
It is hard to put into words the range of emotions that envelopes one come graduation day, especially graduation from college. On one hand you are joyful that you have completed a task that is unique and special, but then on the other hand you are apprehensive about the future and where life will take you. I said my goodbyes to the Northwestern family that meant so much to me. People like Steve Horton, Tommy Whitehead, Carl “Skeeter” Henry, Gail Jones, Dean Fred Fulton, Harold Boutee and many others, all people that saw me at my best and my worst for five years. The spinning wheel of emotions one feels on graduation day finally stopped on joy as I knew there was no way I was coming back to Natchitoches again, at least for an extended period of time.
Don’t get me wrong, I would love to visit and take part in Homecoming and Christmas Festival, but no way was I going to stay here another moment longer, no sir, not me. I’m from New Orleans and I’m going back to the big city.
Fast-forward 12 years, so much has happened. You lose parents, grand-parents, and other loved ones. You get married, you own property, you become a normal guy. You have time on your hands, so you go get a PhD. Life for the most part is good. Every now and then your mind wanders to think about the glory college days. Walking along Chaplin’s Lake, going to football games, bouncing checks at Wal-Mart, steak finger baskets at 2 a.m., the fun stuff. College was great, but being out of college is better.
Until Saturday, August 27th.
Mayor Ray Nagin orders a voluntary evacuation of Orleans Parish and for that matter the city of New Orleans. The media will gloss over the word voluntary, but like it or not, if someone tells you to “voluntarily leave and run for your life,” then that usually means that the thing making you volunteer is probably more dangerous than imagined. It comes to no surprise that New Orleans had seen this before. We would hear hurricane after hurricane come and go with little or no regard. What the media does not quite understand is that flooding in New Orleans is a weekly occurrence at certain times of the year. That is why so many stayed behind. Our daily summer forecast is a high of 98, 100% humidity and a 50% chance of evening thunderstorms. We plan for flooding as though it were a part of the culture in New Orleans. There are folks in New Orleans who keep three items on their front lawns: a mailbox, a statue of the Virgin Mary and a collection of parish supplied sand bags. So flooding to us is as normal as little tremors from earthquakes are to Californians. Yet this time was different. People were scared and they were not afraid to say they were scared.
There were two indicators on that Saturday that made me decide to run for the hills. The first was Mayor Ray Nagin saying in his cocky, every-guy kinda’ way ? “This is not a test, this is for real.” You almost needed a chorus of folks behind him saying “Amen” and “Preach, Brother!!!” after he finished his testimony of how devastating this storm would become. The second indicator for me was what I call the Greg-o-meter. Greg is fascinated by all things weather related. He studies wind and wave patterns, tracks storms on several different scientific meteorological websites and has a weather station at home. As Greg is a life-long resident of New Orleans and a long-suffering Saints fan (just had to mention that part), he will give his best scientific guess of whether or not a storm looks dangerous. When Greg said he was sending his wife and newborn out of town ahead of him, I thought “OK I’ve heard this before.” When Greg said HE was leaving, I started packing a bag. Where to go? Where is it safe and I know my way around and may have some contacts still there? Could it be? Yes, it was. The city of my young, carefree college days was now my shelter from the storm.
The first call was to Dr. Chris Maggio who ends every sentence with “if there is anything I can ever do to help ya’ just call” went into immediate relocation mode. He works the phones like nobody and if anyone out there knows Chris, it’s hard to say “no” to him. Within a matter of hours he arranged housing, basic living supplies and other necessities to at least attempt to be normal in such harrowing circumstances. Individuals like Frances Conine, Doug Ireland, Greg Burke, Dr. Steve Horton and others were welcoming and did whatever they could given the circumstances to assist.
The city looks the same with a few exceptions. Compared to the dirt and despair in New Orleans, Natchitoches looked like an oasis of hope and prosperity. A college friend of mine who also is an alum of NSU asked me if it was surreal coming back onto campus. Of course it was but also comforting. Driving around Natchitoches felt like slipping on an old glove. The Wal-Mart is not where I remember it, but it was easy to find. So the vow I made 12 years ago was not worth the time it took to shout it as I drove away from the city the day after graduation, I did return to Natchitoches and I am glad I did.
