Hurricane Ida- A Howlin' Welcome to New Orleans

  Service Hours: 40 hrs

 I distinctly remember sitting in my Elon Quantitative Analysis class slightly over three years ago, and watching the models of Hurricane Florence as it moved closer and closer to the mid-Atlantic. The forecast had it hitting landfall before the end of the week and the only dot of projected landfall read "Wilmington". My friends and I often referred to ourselves as "hurricane babies", and it was far from the first hurricane we had experienced in the area. With this being a normal part of our seasons, we often took the opportunity of hurricanes to surf the preceding swell, but as the reports projected it building to a cat 5 storm, this time felt different. I immediately drove home that evening, and I could feel the apprehension progressively grow as I neared my coastal hometown. Throughout the following couple days, my family and community prepared their homes for the worst with a solemn understanding that it would be luck if our homes were still standing after the storm. As I drove out of town with all my irreplaceable belonging in my truck, I took mental note of how different of a place it looked. Surf shops and restaurants that a week ago had people milling about with labor day tourism now donning windows with plywood, spray painted with messages like "WB Strong" and "Go Home Florence". The eerie silence of the small town was cut by the blaring of the hurricane siren, accompanied by the ominous red hurricane flags flying. Florence ended up making landfall and a lower powered storm, and though there was significant damage and flooding, I was grateful that I had a home to come to after the storm, especially knowing others in the surrounding area had not been so fortunate.

    Three years later I find myself in attending graduate school New Orleans, a city with a reputable history of hurricanes, so it was not a big surprise to hear that a hurricane was on the horizon with a projected path to New Orleans. My first week of class ended with warnings about the incoming hurricane Ida and by the weekend, the next week's classes had been canceled. I chalked it up to extra study time for my postponed, expecting schedule to return to normal soon after the storm had passed. I had been skeptical of my antique, frankenstein creation of a truck holding up in New Orleans, so my options of evacuating before the storm were limited. I chose to stay through the storm, truthfully not particularly worried by the threat of a hurricane, due to my experience. My fortunate living situation of Deming allowed me proximity and access to the hospital resources of internet, power, and AC, and the large generator parked outside between the hospital and Deming gave me extra reassurance. I studied and watched the onset of the storm from the hospital lobby, casually chatting with some of the staff there about their past experiences of hurricanes. Having finished studying for the evening and seeing some social media posts about some of the local damage, I decided to observe it myself, and I walked out on to the hospital parking deck against the wind, I could truly feel the raw power of Ida. Being a bit of a bigger person, it generally takes a lot of force to move me against my will. As the wind from the storm, which was only projected to get worse, pushed me across the parking deck while I stood there flat-footed, I had the realization that this storm was going to cause some serious damage in the coming hours.

    I woke the next morning to a sunny day and spent most of it walking around surveying the damage, using my drone and camera to document some of the destruction that I found. Buildings and streetlights were down, windows were broken, and power was out for anyone in the city who did not have access to a generator. Glass and debris scattered the ground as people milled about through the damage. Through social media, I got a sense of the destruction uptown, where the renown oak trees appeared to have taken a significant amount of damage and as a result, falling into houses and cars. Returning to generator powered and air conditioned room in Deming that evening, I felt extremely grateful for my conditions and access to resources. During all of my hurricane experiences, including Florence, I had yet to see truly see the impact the storm had on the people, tending to focus more on the direct resulting physical damage. 

    The next day I was at a bit of a loss with what to do with myself. I realized that just the act of cooking breakfast that morning was something that nearly all of the surrounding people could not do, and I felt the urge to help those in a less fortunate position as myself. I was at a loss of how I could do this, and looked to local social media accounts for possible opportunities in the area. I came across an opportunity that was not too far from Deming and was asking for volunteers. I peeled through downtown on my skateboard to find the Howlin' Wolf music club, who had become a temporary relief kitchen to those in need. I ended up finding the owner, Howie, who asked about my kitchen experience and willingness to help cook. Howie determined that my serving and brief prep-cook experience was enough, and I hopped on line with the task to "cook everything". 

    Within just an hour of being there as a line cook at the Howlin' Wolf relief kitchen, my eyes were opened to the famed sense of community that is so characteristic to New Orleans. Throughout the day, more and more people showed up to help in any way that they could. I was working alongside cooks from some of the most popular restaurants in New Orleans, who, along many others, donated the food they had since the lack of power was going to lead to it spoiling. By noon, there were two refrigerated vans parked out front of the building, full of donated food, from french fries and chicken tenders, to redfish filets, crawfish pie, gator nuggets, and everything in between. Inside of the bar, heaps of produce, grains, and other supplies were accumulating as more was dropped off.

    In full honesty, I had never worked on line before this experience, but had always enjoyed watching and learning from the line cooks during my many years working as a server. As I stood there over a hot flat top, fryer, and gas grill, I could not help feeling intimidated at this position, feeling like I was not nearly experienced enough to be doing this. The anxiety of all the possibilities of errors I could make were running through my head, and I hesitant at the possibility of failure. I had to take a moment to recollect myself. The cook I was working alongside, who was a chef over at Pêche, helped give me a perspective adjustment, reminding me that the most important part was food safety and we were filling a need to those in need, not in a cooking show. 

    The line outside of the Howlin' Wolf only grew throughout the day. In true New Orleans fashion, it did not take long until someone showed up with a loudspeaker to play music for everyone on the street, bringing a moral boost with it. I cooked any and everything I was given by volunteers until curfew. It was not until we had stopped for the day, that I saw the email from Tulane about the Houston evacuation efforts. We were having our end of day meeting with Howie, the cooks, and upper "management" of the volunteers, which included a shot and some choice words for Ida. I considered the evacuation offer, but as I did, it did not feel right to me. There was nothing waiting for me at home or in Houston, and my situation at Deming was more fortunate than almost every one of the people I was cooking for, and with. My work that day felt extremely fulfilling, and there was an obvious need for me to be there. I knew that line cooking at the Howlin' Wolf was where I needed, and wanted to be.

    The next morning, I grabbed my skateboard, backpack, kitchen knives, and skated past the evacuating Deming residents down to the Howlin' Wolf for 9AM call. I continued to cook there on line for four more days, which were simultaneously endless and a blur. The movement there only grew, and the volunteer turn out for the following days vastly increased. The community rallied around this make-shift relief kitchen, bringing in hands, food, and resources. Cochon supplied their smokers, along with with much needed hands to work them. So much food was donated, that it outgrew the capacity of the refrigerated sprinter vans, and two refrigerated semis were brought in and parked out front to keep everything cold. The line continued to grow, seemingly endless, and it included every walk of life in the area. We served everyone, including the homeless, National Guard, unfortunate tourists, and New Orleans locals. I connected with and cooked alongside a group of selfless and genuine people including sous chefs from Peche, Mike Dismone, an ex-KFC cook, and a local cook from El-Salvador who made some mean mulitas, among other things. Even as more experienced personnel showed up to volunteer, I somehow never was displaced from my kitchen role and as a result, was thrust headfirst into the food culture of New Orleans. I got to both cook, and try alligator for the first time, and it was an experience I definitely will not forget. The morale and sense of community shown after such a disaster was amazing to me. I had heard about such values before coming down here, and the idea that New Orleanians will turn anything into a part/festival. As I stood in the street to see the serving line and catch my breath, the music and people dancing around 

    By Saturday evening, the power had gradually returned to the area, the need for the relief kitchen had decreased. Saying my goodbyes to the volunteer crew who I had gotten to know, I left Howlin' Wolf that night and skated through downtown, passing linemen who I had cooked for an hour earlier. Recognizing my face from being behind the kitchen, many of them waved and smiled as I passed. I could not help but smile myself as I felt a deep sense of fulfillment and connection to the city I had only known for such a short time. My experience showed me what people mean by "New Orleans Community" and as I go through this upcoming year, I look forward to becoming more a part of that.