By: Daiyu Tang
Reader, I hate to be the thunderclap of bad news, but the sky’s loading the next punch. A developing system over warm Gulf water has its mean little eye on our parish and… if the models don’t wobble… could drag days of heavy rain and nasty squalls across Hathian and the Laveau coast. Translation: low-lying blocks and anything near the canals or beaches (Hi, Batterie) are first in line for flooding and sewage backflow (that’s normal for some of you, but not all). If you’ve lived here long enough to roll your eyes at sandbags, you’ve also lived here long enough to know you’ll wish you’d grabbed them anyway. Oh and students in CU? Yeah, you might not usually flood (except tears at your trophy cabinet more recently), but even you better watch out this time… It’s forecast to be a big one. Got that gym ready?
Editor’s aside: No, it doesn’t have to be a hurricane to ruin your week. Ask your carpet. But of course we’re also expecting hurricane force weather as well!
We’ve Been Here Before – Blanche was a Bitch
Storm seasons are brutal in the parish. Our own Hathian Observer archives are a scrapbook of ‘never again’ moments: the 2010 storm that dropped a plane into town and wrecked FDH facilities; days-long outages and looting in 2011; Tropical Storm Karen’s drownings and blackouts in 2013; the 2016 contamination crisis that escalated into a citywide state of emergency; the spring floods and later Hurricane Ida in 2021; then 2023’s hurricane and (yes) another plane crash. That’s not folklore it’s Hathian. We live (and sometimes die) with our weather. What about you? This year.
The Usual Advice
Flood proof what you can (today). Clear street drains by your place. Sandbag ground-floor doors, shopfronts, and alley grates.
Power & comms. Charge phones, battery packs, and torches; dig out a battery radio. Assume outages.
Don’t marinate in sewage. If you’re in a chronic backflow zone, cap shower/tub drains and cover toilet bowls with contractor bags + weights. (It’s gross. It works.)
Medications & papers. 7–10 days of meds, IDs, insurance/photos of valuables in a zip bag. You think FDH gonna take you to HGH when the storm really hits? Nah.
Wheels up. Move cars to higher ground before the streets turn into canals. If you’re one of those posers with a supercar, you can do what they did in Dubai. Put some floats under it and pose like a pro floating through the streets in your Porsche. Just wait and see if people shoot those floats away!
Buddy check. Knock for neighbours who won’t see this post… Elderly, disabled (that includes GSW and stab wounded folks), or folks who just won’t bother to watch the TV, listen to the radio or read the newspaper. Yes, that means someone needs to tell Ain Hopper. Good luck and wear a coil if you’re female when visiting him.
When the Shit Starts Flowing (or Flying into the Air)
Turn around, don’t drown. Two feet of moving water can take your car; a manhole without its cover will take you. And there are Gators in the sewers. And a sewer monster. Seriously.
Generators outside only. Carbon monoxide is invisible and lethal; don’t become a headline. Also, if someone wants to rob you for the generator, better out than in as they might just murder you if you get in the way. Especially in Laveau. Monsters Be There in the Bayou!
Live wires & live fools. Avoid downed lines and ‘content creators’ on rooftops. Yes, that means if you see me out there attempting to film this stuff, you’ve got another reason to avoid me besides my firearm. I might at anypoint become literally too hot to handle. Daiyu-Fried-Tang. Could be us bae.
If you smell gas, kill main power if you can do it safely and get out then dial 911. Then listen to 911’s dispatch tell you “You live in Hathian/Laveau/Need to speak to the campus mall cops” and hang up on you. But at least you tried and didn’t die of gas. Now you can die of gator.
Why the Nerves aren’t Drama
We’re not fear-mongering; we’re pattern-recognizing. Our own Observer records shows what ‘just rain‘ can become here. Floods, blackouts, busted roofs, Gator’s the size of Vanora’s bosom and the kind of infrastructure failure you can smell for a week and longer. Start now, so that when the sky finally drops its shoulder (and hurricane), you’re not sprinting to the Pawn Shop for the last roll of duct tape, because trust me, they’ll have already used it to secure some victims to chairs in case cannibalism is required if the food runs out.
See you on the other side of the squall line… preferably dry and alive, but if not. Make sure to record your expiry in 4K so we can run your obituary.
