The River

Since Jazz Fest, like everyone else in South Louisiana, we've been keeping an eye on the River. We go to the Fly at Audubon Park and walk over to the edge, noting how much further the brown water is from the last time we visited. We look over when crossing the River on one of the ferries or the bridge. We've watched as the levels rise and rise.

On the Monday after Jazz Fest, Big Man and I drove to Baton Rouge to shop at our favorite Cajun charcuterie, Bergeron's in West Baton Rouge (don't get me started on them right now! well worth a trip!), and decided to drive home the long way along River Road. We saw behind LSU how the seepage from the levee had formed huge puddles along the road (despite the recent lack of rain). As we drove along, at one point downriver from Baton Rouge, Big Man parked at the foot of the levee and walked up to survey the situation. He hollered to me, back in the car, standing about 5 or 6 feet from the top of the levee, "This is where the water is on the other side!" It was a good 16-17 feet over the car and the road.

Lake Pontchartrain is turning brown from the River water pouring in, chasing the lake fish out and bringing in catfish from the Mississippi -- and once again ruining the oyster beds. (Seems like the poor oystermen just can't catch a break.) Even with all the water pouring through the Bonné Carré Spillway above New Orleans, it wasn't enough, and this week the Morganza Spillway above Baton Rouge was also opened, pouring Mississippi River water into the basin of the Atchafalaya, endangering Morgan City and even smaller villages in Cajun country. God help those people.

A few days ago, Big Man and I took Keely our dog and returned to the Fly, and found there dozens and dozens of other New Orleanians fixated, staring at the swollen river. The brown water was riding high, the current visibly speeding past us to the Gulf, like it was late or something. Barges and tugboats rode unbelievably high in the water, and those traveling upstream had a helluva time of it, making very little headway, as the River strained and pushed in the opposite direction, causing giant wakes. No wonder the Corps of Engineers shut down river traffic for while -- it didn't look safe at all to us.

The city is safe, thank God, barring some unforeseen disaster like a barge breaking free and hitting the levee (the City Council threatened to scuttle any barge not properly tied down). And our hearts go out to all the people and places and farms and businesses in the Atchafalaya Basin. May the flooding not be as bad as predicted for you, and may you all be safe and sound. We thank you for your sacrifice.