I’m reading a novel about Katrina called City of Refuge by Tom Piazza. While fictional, so far it seems to portray a very honest glimpse into two families evacuation stories. This passage struck me though, in the context of stuff:

“The hurricane was headed directly for New Orleans, and at the last minute, now, even people who had never before evacuated finally packed bags, threw blankets and bottled water in their car, or their neighbors’ car, or their brother’s, along with one or two toys for the kids, their medicines, their pets, all grabbed in an escalating urgency, along with last-minute things that struck them—either heirlooms (Oh, get the wedding album…take the wedding album…) or odd choices that crossed their field of vision at some final moment and were suddenly irradiated with meaning—that old lamp that had sat for decades on their mother’s nightstand, or a favorite picture from the wall—and started out of town, faintly dazed with a sense that this might in fact represent the end of everything they had ever worked for, or taken for granted, heading toward some undefined future.” (City of Refuge, page 95)
But I suppose what really has me thinking about stuff these days is the fire in the home of some people I know here. Bonnie, her husband George and her sister Connie had a fire on Saturday, January 14th. Much of the kitchen/bathroom on the ground floor and parts of the upstairs were destroyed. If you would like to help there is a paypal address to send donations: firefund@cox.net or you can log into the Facebook Page Bonnie & George New Orleans at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bonnie-George-New-Orleans/358310210862674?ref=ts

Kitchen countertop

Hole in roof that firefighters made to get into second floor

It means a lot to me that there are people like you who have gone above and beyond what I ever thought my little story could inspire. XXSolidarityNotCharityXX