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New Orleans evacuees tell horror stories

LA PLACE, La. — After three days with no running water, flush toilets, hot food or electricity, Samantha Rumby could be excused if it sounded like her imagination was running wild.

Her descriptions of the devastation — and desperation — left in New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina sounded like the script for a post-apocalypse Hollywood thriller.

"When we left, there was a line of ambulances on the side of Interstate 10," said the 32-year-old employee of a medical supply company, who fled Wednesday morning from her apartment in Metairie, a suburb of New Orleans. "The helicopters were bringing out the flood victims and you could see children through the opened doors. There were helicopters everywhere. It was like the evacuation of Vietnam."

As Rumby drove west on the interstate to escape the stricken city, she was stunned by another sight.

"There were hitch-hikers," she said. "People with backpacks, whole families carrying little babies, trying to get rides. I would've stopped, but I had two cats and a dog in my car. I even saw a monk in his monk outfit walking down the interstate. It was like those Mel Gibson movies, the 'Road Warrior.'"

A lifelong New Orleans area resident, Rumby says she was "stupid" not to have evacuated before Katrina, but "I've never left for one before, and I thought I could make it."

She survived the storm with her brother in her third-floor apartment by putting a mattress against her patio doors that open onto a balcony. The apartment is right next to the 17th Street Canal (CQ), where a levee break late Monday or early Tuesday began flooding the city.

"We survived the storm, but we were there for three days with no power or water or toilets," she said. "We had canned food, but forgot to buy a can opener, so we borrowed one from a neighbor. We listened to the radio and heard these people calling in, saying they were trapped in their attics and dying. It got so gloomy we finally turned it off. It was rough."

The floodwaters miraculously spared her apartment building, although she decided to evacuate Wednesday because officials said the water was starting to seep up in her area.

Her two days in the impact zone were "surreal."

"We drove around once and it was like the Wild West," she said. "There were looters everywhere. I went in a convenience store looking for Handiwipes and there were these guys in there breaking down the walls trying to get to the safe. We heard rumors that there were rapes and murders at the Superdome," where thousands of evacuees fled for shelter before they, too, began to be evacuated Wednesday.

Small clumps of other people rode out the storm in Rumby's apartment complex, and after the hurricane passed life reverted to a primitive state of survival.

"People were taking water out of the swimming pools to flush their toilets," Rumby said. "This Asian family started a fire out in the parking lot and were cooking a big pot of something. We had no phones or television. Before the cell phones went out, I left a message in my mailbox saying I was alive. But I haven't been able to talk to anyone. My mother is in Mobile and she doesn't know if I'm alive or dead."

The worst time was at night.

"It was pitch black," Rumby recalled. "I slept on a foam pad on the balcony because it was so hot, covering myself with bug spray. All night you heard the helicopters going past about every two minutes. And some of the helicopters had these big search lights and would fly over shining them down. It was very scary."

Other residents had similar stories.

Kevin Jacomine lives in Lakeview, an area near Lake Ponchartrain. He was away on business when Katrina hit but returned to meet his mother, whose home in the eastern suburb of Arabi is under 15 feet of water, at a motel in La Place. Jacomine managed to talk his way aboard a rescue boat going into his neighborhood on Tuesday.

"I'm a cynical guy and I was thinking the news media was over-estimating the damage," he said Wednesday. "But what I saw was unbelievable. They are underestimating the damage. There are places in the city under 16 feet of water."

After hitching a ride into his neighborhood on a boat, Jacomine found a pirogue — a small boat used by bayou fishermen — and poled his way to his two-story house, which was only partially flooded. His mission was to rescue Paris, his dog, who got left behind because he was out of town when the storm hit.

"I floated over the fence in my backyard and got her," Jacomine said. "On my way out, I saw a guy in a canoe, who said there were about a dozen senior citizens trapped in the Church of St. Pius in Lake Vista. He called some guys on the radio and soon all these airboats came up. They started bringing out the old people."

The survivors in La Place all said they were lucky to be alive. Most stopped in the small town about 20 miles west of New Orleans to meet family or friends before moving on. Police have set up roadblocks on the east-bound portion of the highway into the city, and were allowing only rescue vehicles to pass.

Miraculously, power came on at the few hotels dotting the highway exit, so the survivors were able to relax in air-conditioned comfort.

Others, like Rumby, parked at gas stations to wait for meet-ups with family or friends, many looking dazed.

"We've only got a quarter tank of gas," said one couple from Metairie, who said their other two cars — both full of gas — were crushed when their carport collapsed during the storm. "We're supposed to meet other family members here, but we can't reach anybody because the cell phones don't work. This is a mess."

Another lady drove up and rushed up to a news reporter busy taking notes in an interview.

"Are you taking names of the dead and missing," she asked, her eyes a bit wild. "This is the worst thing I've ever seen. The smell of death and rotting food is rising."

Rumby was waiting to meet her cousin — whom she couldn't reach by cell phone — before driving to her aunt's house, where she hoped to stay until perhaps going to her mother's in Mobile.

"When will I go home," she said, pondering a question now facing untold numbers of others from among the New Orleans metro area's roughly one million residents. "Maybe never. Yesterday the mayor was saying it would take two to four weeks to pump out the city and today he's saying it'll take 16 weeks. I know I'm lucky to be alive and a lot of people are a lot worse off. But I don't know what I'm going to do."

Mike Williams' email address is: mikew(at)coxnews.com