A colleague of mine flew to New Orleans a few days before Hurricane Katrina hit. There as one of 200 consultants for the College Board (read SAT), his plans got thwarted when Katrina hit. The roof was blown off the ballroom, and there was no transportation out. He was stuck there for almost a week. Here’s one of the photos he took of the devastation.
He writes:
The members of the [Sheraton] hotel staff were very well prepared for this type of emergency and also were very supportive and professional. They were able to provide food and water to drink during the following days. We , however, did not have water to bath or electricity for several days,
… my room was on the 24 th floor, the lifts seem to require electricity to operate (odd); [so I] got some killer calf muscles now.
We’re glad to see him back. The photos he took are shocking. And, had he been listening to jazz but a block or two away, he might no longer be with us. Makes me think about fate (again!) and about other colleagues of mine who experienced traumatic times.
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