Written by Alekz D. Londos....this is my story, my life lived venture, to hope that it might generate more help, money, or resources branching off across America, directed towards this disaster as well other Hurricanes in the future.

With the world’s attention, from every form of media, I was watching TV after I got off work in Santa Cruz, California. flashing through News Station. I felt deep anxiety, emotional discomfort. This was real. I made some phone calls, and decided to leave Santa Cruz a few days after the storm, the constant Hurricane Katrina conversations echoing in my head. I abruptly planned, packed, and drove approximately 2500 miles in my Ford Bronco, a long drive, a difficult drive, hot and tired, no air conditioning, windows that don’t work, overheated in the Nevada desert, with several flat tires along the way, a journey, working with and around every obstacle. After four days on the road, I saw what we now know as New Orleans. A 14-year-old boy with his shirt off, a gun strapped to his back, warning off all threats, out front of his house. In the center of this complete destruction, this visual shock, everything you grow to trust is broken, deceives the mind, you feel disconnected from life. This was close to a dream state [asleep] as wide a wake when reading a prophesized Bible revelation. The suffering, death, the worst the US has ever seen, the unimaginable pain when what you hold close is lost.

I was one person with this drastic idea I was going to leave, drive across the United States, hoping I would be able to help in some way, volunteer, not knowing I would be in a place to personally help people who were suffering after a week without the essentials of our every day life, without shelter from the heat, no electricity, food, running water, plumbing, or communication out to the rest of the world. I made, and laminated a press pass the day I left, assuming I would need authorization, permission to enter, through police and military roadblocks on the way. I definitely needed it on my second and third time back in, after returning from Raceland to refuel, and stock up on food, water, and the bags of ice, which was the request from the people. What upsets me is that I was at some of the heavily effected areas before the Federal Government. Where was the immediate help when it was most needed.

All of this was extremely mentally draining; I tried to stay strong, a test, (tired, it was not safe to sleep) constantly moving and watching every move. I accomplished most of my objectives wishing I could of stayed longer. Sometimes I would have to leave the only security I knew (confined) to make it into areas unreachable by vehicle, hiking with my back pack, a map, camera, food, water, a tent, blanket, first aid kit, clean clothes, some rope, things I packed, supplies I might need if I found myself without my ride home (without the Bronco) I did everything I could and it still felt like it was not enough.

I drove down street after street, block to block passing out the canned food and bottled water, miscellaneous beverages, fruits, snacks (that I brought and collected from different sources on the way, along with consistent help and support from family and friends, who sent me money via Western Union) I glance past this one street, near the French Quarters, where there was a lady with her dog slowly wading, splashing through the poisoned water, making her way over to dry ground, seeming calm and content like this was a day at the lake. Relatively close by, I saw another man out front of his house, walking over to me. The concrete steps from his porch leading into standing water (that connected to the flooded city) where he was cooking on a grill, I warned him of the potential epidemic, he paid me no mind. I heard a mother cry out, for the loss of her child, pointing towards where he was killed. Crossing over a bridge, lined up along the side, abandoned cars with every gas tank cap opened, I turned into a community, a family out front of their home, packed, rushed, and ready to leave the city, but out of fuel. I rinsed empty Gatorade containers earlier (flushed with clean water then a little gas) to fill up and hand out. Hopefully it would be enough to make it farther away from this place. When the silence set in, past the evacuation, riots, vandalism, arson, panic, sirens, helicopters, car crashes, fires, gunshots, and screams in every direction, I was left alone in this dead city, an empty city, completely surreal, with my vivid memories of the damage, and loss of life. Feeling the spirits leave their rotting bodies…………No words will ever depict or describe this energy.

Waking up the next morning (nightmares) remembering where I was and why I was here, making a wrought through polluted water, twisted metal, downed power lines, angled telephone poles and debris, into an empty residential neighborhood right outside of downtown New Orleans, I called over an old man to the Bronco to see if he was OK or needed food and cold water. Surprisingly, he said no. He had me follow him to the side of a fallen structure where he asked me to take this puppy from him that he hadn’t been able to feed. He’d only been able to give the dog warm water from a water heater he said. I assured him I would get the small black lab out of the city, he was very happy and thankful. We spent one night (me and the Dog) in the sanctioned news crew section in a safe zone downtown New Orleans, where I acquired a lot of information, walking into a B.Q. provided for agency.

The next day I crossed one of the only bridges to withstand the storm on the West side of Lake Pontchartrain, into Slidell, things here were worse, houses moved, buildings destroyed, boats lifted up out of there harbor. This community was handling the situation very well, now in the beginning stages of clean up. I drove for miles; you see the power of the wind, it was too late for the hope to find any survivors, Biloxi.

Red Cross……….1.866.351.9551 Salvation Army…….1.800.725.2769

Questions, comments, or criticism regarding this article can be sent to:

Alekz Londos P.O. Box 7227 Santa Cruz CA. 95061 or PSYCHOSiiS@hotmail.com

Are you prepared for what you will see in your lifetime?

Copyright 2005 A.D.L. all rights reserved. 1.775.997.4401

....

..........

This is vechile I drove there. The bronco was given to me by my Moms husband Glen. There are few people you will come accross in your life, as giving as this.

This is Mosh

Locations New Orleans, Jefferson Parish, Saint Bernard Parish,

Responses I recieved (via E-mail)

Alekz, I work with Carla (at the collection agency) and she passed along the narrative you wrote about your experiences with Hurricane Katrina. That was a nice piece; well written and rather descriptive. The devastation was amazing and the suffering and anguish that set in afterward is really quite tragic. It is a shame that the media coverage quickly shifted from the drama of the storm and the impact of it's destruction to who is to blame for response times for assistance. As politicians waged a new war of politics and the usual bi-partisan bickering, the victims seemed to become unimportant as we became slowly immune to the stories of loss, sadness and despair. At first we all gasped in amazement, but eventually we simply changed the channel and watched sit- com reruns hoping to escape back to the 70's (That 70's Show) or watch the self-absorbed and rather desperate housewives as they depict the darkest sides of human nature.

It is admirable that, while most of us sat on the sidelines and in awe from a distance, you allowed the human spirit to prevail and became a part of the solution. It is a selfless act to leave safety, with few resources and virtually no plan, and travel a very long distance into danger and mayhem to visit the city, formerly known as New Orleans, and the Gulf region.

Certainly your actions are applaudable and triumph over those of us who stuffed dollars and coins into workplace collection containers and donated to charities (sponsored by Hollywood stars eager to show how much they care as Entertainment Tonight snaps another not-so-glamour-shot) easing, for a moment, our inability to help and substituting it in the least committing and most convenient way.

I am guilty of having too many obligations, in my mind(as my excuse?), to consider such courageous efforts as you. We have heard and will long hear of stories, that become legends over time, of those who dared to sacrifice in order to help. My children know of your story and kindness and my young daughter said, "he must be like Jesus". Interesting and touching that a 7 year old would see His example in that which you have done. Yet another compliment to you. I don't know you, but for many years to come I will likely recount the story of your experience and proudly profess that I know of you.

Thank you for your example. Scott Carroll

The world needs more people like you. Imagine if there were...Thanks. There's not words to express the compassion you showed when you went there. Not knowing really, what to expect. You called me and I could hear the tears in your voice. Imagine if there were more compassionate people like you. This video captures that. It captures the unknowing fear in all of us. It was a few moments in time, your video says it all. I cried. Thank you for having what it took to go...just go...If only I were more like you...

Mom

Alekz,
Your piece and trip to New Orleans was amazing! I just got married in New Orleans on May 21, 2006 in the French Quarter. I have been to New Orleans a number of times, before and after the hurricane. My husband's grandmother lives in the Garden District. We refused to have our wedding anywhere else but New Orleans. On our trip out in April this year we drove through the areas that were affected, and it seemed that very little if anything had been done even then to help people get their lives back. We were very amazed at what we saw even in April this year. Which was nothing compared to what you experienced just after the hurricane.
We met one woman in the area near the London canal break who is rebuilding her home and has put it up on 10 ft tall concrete pillars. She came over to talk to us, and took us on a mini tour of some of the neigbors homes.
What we saw was destruction, everything looked like a war zone...still. There was alot of progress when we were back there in May for the wedding, but still not back to normal.

After the news stopped covering the disaster most people have completely forgotten what happened to those cities in the south. Those people still need help.

Anyway... thank you for your courage and determination to make a difference in those people's lives.

I live out here in So.Cal and run a rehearsal studio for musicians, by the way, have a great evening.
Britt

Alekz,
Thanks for the reply. The Garden District in New Orleans has lots of big old houses, and was relatively untouched by the hurricane, except for lots of homes with damage to their roofs. It actually is an area above sea level, on I think what is called the Metarie Ridge.
The French Quarter fared pretty well too, with not alot of damage. The wedding was great in the French Quarter.

You are welcome to use what I wrote however you like. Glad you liked it, and I like to compliment people who I think have done interesting/amazing stuff. Keep up the good work.
Britt