New Orleans, Katrina, and the ability to communicate

I had a couple of minutes to look around online during lunch to take a look at different articles and sites on the aftermath of the hurricane.

One blog, Katrina Aftermath had some jarring information on the lack of infrastructure funding for levee maintenance. It also had some interesting notes about the real life benefit of text messaging.

Text messaging has been the saving technology for us in this hurricane.
While the normal voice circuits have been down completely (in New
Orleans) or clogged (in Baton Rouge), text messages have been getting
through even to those completely cut off in every other way. We managed
to locate our friend Shirley that way today.

It's interesting: so many older mobile phone users just aren't into
texting, and so they never use it. Now, they're learning on the spot.
When Shirley received our text message she had never received one before
and wondered what on earth her phone was doing. She finally figured out
how to read the message and reply to us, and so we now know she is safe
out of New Orleans. Her husband, though, is stuck and isolated in his
house. It's too dangerous to leave so he's going to try to hold out
where he is until the national guard show up.

In case you were wondering what's going on in the Big Easy, this guy works in the only company with internet access in downtown New Orleans. As it turns out it was a company established by Enron called...I can't remember what it's called. Sorry, Interdictor. I can't remember the name of your company, but I'm sure you have other things on your mind.

10:46pm

The Real News The following is the result of an interview I just conducted via cell phone with a New Orleans citizen stranded at the Convention Center. I don't know what you're hearing in the mainstream media or in the press conferences from the city and state officials, but here is the truth: "Bigfoot" is a bar manager and DJ on Bourbon Street, and is a local personality and icon in the city. He is a lifelong resident of the city, born and raised. He rode out the storm itself in the Iberville Projects because he knew he would be above any flood waters. Here is his story as told to me moments ago. I took notes while he talked and then I asked some questions:

Although obviously he has no exact count, he estimates more than 10,000 people are packed into and around and outside the convention center still waiting for the buses. They had no food, no water, and no medicine for the last three days, until today, when the National Guard drove over the bridge above them, and tossed out supplies over the side crashing down to the ground below. Much of the supplies were destroyed from the drop. Many people tried to catch the supplies to protect them before they hit the ground. Some offered to walk all the way around up the bridge and bring the supplies down, but any attempt to approach the police or national guard resulted in weapons being aimed at them.

And earlier:

4. National Guard shoving water off the backs of trucks. They're just pushing it off without stopping, people don't even know it's there at first -- they drop it on the side in debris, there's no sign or distribution point -- people are scared to go near it at first, because the drop points are guarded by troops or federal agents with assault rifles who don't let people come near them, which scares people off. It is a mess. When people actually get to the water, they are in such a rush to get it that one family left their small child behind and forget about him until Sig carried him back to the family.

5. Lots of pics coming soon when Sig has time to update.

It's raining now and I guess that's a relief from the heat. It's hot as hell down there in the sun. Crime is absolutely rampant: rapes, murders, rape-murder combinations.

The situation is hard for me to comprehend. Terribly disurbing. I am at a loss for words.

Best of luck.