I was deployed to New Orleans to work with Adaora Udoji, a reporter out of New York by CNN’s National Desk. Our task was to find a hospital and report from there starting at 10pm until 10am. Adaora got a hold of a woman at Tulane Hospital name Karen Troyer-Caraway. She was wonderful and went completely out of her way to accomodate us. We reported throughout the night as the storm battered the city. The hosptial seemed to fare well as the hurricane passed. In the morning we walked around the hospital to survey the damage and it was minimal. Karen was very happy and so were the other staff members. At that point our shift was over. Our next task was to find a something to report on either at the hospital or to go out and find a story. Karen then called her husband for ideas. He was a Captain in the Kenner police department. I asked Karen to ask if we could go on a ride-along. He said yes.
We packed our things and started making our way there. Unfortunately we didn’t get very far on I-10. The streets were impassible. We called Stacia — our site manager — to update her and she told us to come back to the hotel and sleep because we had overnight duty again.
While I slept I received a call from Karen. I never heard the phone ring but she left a message saying things were going well but that flooding was occurring in other parts of the city. I went down to Staicia’s room to find out where it was we were to be. Our assignment was to get on the I-10 highway east to where flood victims were being rescued from their houses by boats. We jumped into our vehicles and began making our way there.
I drove over debris as we wound our way to the highway. We passed destroyed buildings that were reminiscent of the aftermath of 9/11. We reached the exit to go up the ramp — in the wrong but only direction available. The very bottom of the ramp was full of waist-high water. We had no choice but to try and drive through it. I lowered the gear and headed into it. Looking back on it I should have driven a little slower, our car stalled. Water started rushing in, we weren’t in any real danger though. Adaora was a little tense, I was uncertain about what to do but did start preparing to step out into the water. I plucked my blackberry from the water. Then my crew — who was in the vehicle behind us — pushed us up the ramp. We let the car dry out for a few minutes and soon after it started we continued to the site.
We arrived around 11pm. The fire trucks were departing and the Louisiana Fish and Wildlife Department was taking over. They were deploying boats from what used to be an on ramp onto I-10. Throughout the night we witnessed and reported on hundreds of people being rescued and brought onto the highway — many children and infants, and even a 97-year-old woman. Every once in a while vans and trucks would arrive to take the evacuees to the Superdome. After a few runs, the vans stopped coming. Wet and tired of waiting, people began to walk the four miles to the Superdome, many barefoot. A man with two cocker spaniels who were too scared to stop barking sat halfway up the on ramp not knowing what to do. A third dog was seemingly abandoned and was milling around the ramp. A Fish and Wildlife truck that had just unloaded a boat didn’t see him and ran him over. The driver got out and threw the dog over the edge into the water.
More and more people were dropped off by boats, at least several hundred, but they had no where to go. The man with the dogs asked a Fish and Wildlife official what he should do with his pets. I turned to look as he asked and saw that he also had a small kennel with about ten cocker spaniel puppies in it. The official’s response was to go to the Superdome and see what they say. Around daybreak Fish and Wildlife trucks started arriving again to ferry people to the already packed stadium. The man with the dogs jumped into the back of the truck — I knew and the man must have known it was most likely the dogs last car ride.
We continued doing liveshots, 22 or 23 total. Adaora basically carried the network, but she was exhausted mentally and physically. The scope of the calamity was starting to sink in.
Meanwhile, my blackberry was drying out and I couldn’t get my messages. But as I tinkered with it I noticed I had a message. I used a cameraman’s phone to call my voicemail, it was Karen from the hospital. In a calm but clearly concerned tone she said the hospital was surrounded by water. That only a few hours ago they had move the emergency room equipment back down to the first floor and now had to move it up to the second. I called her back maybe an hour or two after she had left the message. She told me the water was rising at a foot an hour and at that rate the water would flood the generators and they would lose emergency power. Dozens of patients lives would be in jeopardy.
I called Atlanta and told them they needed to get her on the air via phone, that the situation there was beyond desperate. They did but that was the last time I was able to speak to Karen.