Nowhere man

For all who were wondering -- and thank you, by the way -- my grandparents' house was largely spared by the hurricane. And by "spared" I mean that it's still standing, which is certainly more than most could ask right now.

My mom, dad, and grandpa traveled out to Slidell 5 times from Pensacola this weekend to survey the damages and begin repairs. They rented some equipment and generators and started to work tearing out carpets and ripping up drywall in all 12 of the downstairs rooms. The surge of the storm brought in 3 feet of water, which eventually settled at 1 foot, according to the water marks and mold on the furniture and walls. My mom opened the drawer under the oven, only to find that giant clumps of seaweed -- Mapquest Slidell, LA, and you'll understand how bizarre that really is.

All the furniture from the first floor will have to be replaced, the drywall redone from floor to ceiling. But hearing about this, the worst part was the slow and painful mental inventory I began to take of all the family history that was certainly lost. Sketches and letters from my great grandfather the vaudevillian, family Bibles, pictures of my mom and her brothers growing up in New Jersey and Puerto Rico, wedding photos, year books. All had floated off the bottom shelves of bookcases and were now strewn around in bathrooms and kitchens.

And yet, they were lucky. I have friends whose families' homes were nothing but foundations and shingles when they returned. Their possessions are probably being pumped into Lake Ponchartrain as we speak.

I hope that we, as a nation, can learn from this disaster; that we can stop pointing fingers and looking for scapegoats (I'm talking to you, Kanye), and support one another.

I've always considered New Orleans my second home. It's the one constant in my life, the city I could count on -- and it's devastating to see it now, a shell of is former self. But New Orleanians are nothing if not resiliant, full of life and hope and love. They will overcome this. Keep watching....