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I went into NOLA on Saturday (never got the chance to post until now). It's looking better- we only had to pass through one military checkpoint, otherwise all the soldiers just wave at you. We had, by the waterline estimate, six inches of water in my house, which isn't bad considering we live on the second floor, but we lost all my mom's old record albums (all her original Beatles albums are soaked), my grandfather's footlocker from WWII (with most of our pre-1950 family heirlooms), and my dad's books. Otherwise, we were luckier than most.
The neighborhood was eerie though. No standing water, but an abnormal amount of bright light for all the trees knocked down. There's also a white silt over all the yards. But the most haunting thing is the complete silence- no cars, no birds, no neighbors. Just bright light and dead trees while your ears ring. Going in the house was like breaking into a place people had just been, with everything left the way they left it. Creepy.
Good thing is on the walls of most houses, I saw "NA" (No answer) or "0 DB" (0 dead bodies) spraypainted by police and aid workers.
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