In today’s post, Loki says,
We exist in a place where Katrina, the Federal Flood, and the ongoing trials infect every aspect of day to day life. Every interaction, every conversation, every walk down the block are tainted with the events of the past 18 months. In this sort of environment catharsis is essential … Every masker is able to leave behind the wreckage of their former home and cut loose in a collaborative satirization of the pain we are steeped in. This is how we heal.
This afternoon, I walked out of a meeting to see a usually cheerful co-worker, Ms. Betty, in a deep funk. She didn’t want to tell me what is going on, but I pried it out of her because no friend of mine is going to stew in misery (or joy) alone. Both of Betty’s homes in New Orleans East, one her dwelling and another a rental property, were flooded 18 months ago. For six months, Betty’s job took her away from New Orleans, while her husband and family scrambled to find funding (waiting on insurance!), estimates and reliable repairpeople for these homes. Eighteen months after the flood, Ms. Betty had the rental property fully gutted and the roof replaced, and decided to fix up and remodel her own house before continuing to work on the rental property.
Last night, she got a notice from her insurance company, Allstate, announcing that coverage on the rental property will be dropped as of next month because the house is now considered “abandoned.” Imagine a grown woman crying in your arms because her house on which she paid insurance for 36 years will be booted off an insurance company’s roster without as much as a Thank You.
“Thirty six years I did the right thing, I paid in on time, never a day behind on the bill. And what do I get in return? It makes me feel so bad. All I want to do now is give those houses to my church and never return to Louisiana.”