dear gustav,

So I think I speak for us all when I say PHEW! Let's briefly document the evacuation experience. I'll skip the entire week of August 25th when all we did was watch the weather channel and hope. So it becomes apparent on Friday the 29th, that we are going to have to go. I pack up the computers, important files, make copies of staff phone lists, make an extended absence greeting, and leave work a little early.

Upon arriving home, I needed a drink. So we walked down to the Old Point bar and played our game until we see our friend Amanda. She just picked up her friend from New York at the airport. He came down for Decadence. He was shocked that the airline let him come down with the threat of this impending storm. We pull up chairs with them and chat for another drink or two and then go home to eat.

Saturday is uneventful. All we do is watch the weather channel, and the local news. And may I just say something to Fox's Bob Breck? You are a train wreck and it shows. Sweating and stammering live on the air does nothing to help worried residents decide when to leave. Bruce Katz was much better. Take notes from Bruce, Bob. You scare me.

At approximately 1:30 A.M. we leave. Packed up the '94 Nissan Sentra with only irreplaceables. Meaning: photographs, diaries, water, four cats, two grown ups, and jason's playstation...yes. Playstation.

Traffic is smooth for fifteen minutes. We grow hopeful. Big Mistake. We hit traffic around Alomaster. It's stop and go until the contraflow at 4:00 A.M. But by that point we are still so far back, it takes about 45 minutes for it to reach us. We take the contraflow lane, headed north on 59 in the southbound lanes. We hit a couple of rough patches on that portion but all in all, we reach our destination, Hattiesburg, MS by 7:30 A.M. After a three hour nap, we hit the pool. Jason's aunt and uncle have a gorgeous house and with a pool. We open a beer and lounge in the pool until 3 or 4. Sabine, Jimmy, and Alex arrive.

The next six days are spent lounging on the couch, being bored. Watching the weather channel in utter horror at the worst part of the storm, as the water tickles the top edge of the concrete levee. Watching with relief as the storm passes over into the ozarks. Watching with annoyance while they decide when we can come back. We know we don't have power. We call our message machine, it never picks up. That's how we tell. We finally decide to come home Friday, rain or shine; power or none. And that's just what we do.

Except for the car. Doesn't make it past exit 242 on the way back in. Call our friend who comes to rescure us, jumping the car three or four times just to make it home. We take it on the ferry because there is no breakdown lane on the bridge and the ferry operator tells us it's messed up for us to bring a broken down car on the boat. What the ferry guy thinks of me is the least of my problems right now, though. I've got four cats, panting like dogs in a broken down car, with no A/C. So yeah...I care.

Mercifully, the power comes back thirty minutes after we pull up, as we're unpacking. You can hear the cries of happiness from the whole block. We were among the last in the neighborhood to get ours back on. Fridge contents are gone. No mind, easier to clean. Obviously, we're in the market for a new car. I will update once that's finished.

Sounds like hell, and it was pretty bad. BUT it could have been so much worse. As we already know. And we have to consider ourselves lucky. And a quick note to all th people who say they will not leave again, and there are a lot of them: You are stupid. You live on the gulf coast. This is the price we pay. But fine, don't leave. Less traffic for me to fight, but don't you dare call for help when you're standing on the rooftop for two days with no food or water. hmph!