I finally could read your original post. and again reading through the posts that follow. one you wrote reminded me when down there working in AmeriCorps that a man told us the water came in so fast it lifted the fridge and pinned his sister. He and his friend tried desperately to get her out but they got washed up to the attic. The house -and his sister- under 20 feet of water.
I get so mad at the news when they show reporters in the stricken areas (when i can see the waterline on the houses above the guy's shoulder) and he said " as you can see, there has been little damage here'... what, were they getting PAID to tell the U.S. lies about it? I'd yell at the screen and point to the waterline and my mom would try to calm me down. I don't understand how... why.... i still have so much anger over it all.
I am so very thankful you got out of there. having worked in St. Bernard, NO, the 9th, and several other places, i am SO THANKFUL you got out.
I realized i lost time down there - lost 5 days i could not account for - down in St. Bernard, the 9th (and yes I saw the barge up close - that thing is HUGE, i thought it was a warehouse - there's a school bus smashed behind it), and some other areas.
My heart goes out to your neighbors with the children and all the missing. Soooooooooo glad your borther came home safe. I was fearing the worst in your write up.
My mind is going between vivid memories, remembering the nightmares i had there, and completely blank - so i fear i am not making much sense any more, or being helpful to your purpose for posting it. I can't think of any questions for you... I know i had guilt over a situation and later i came back and (being an artist) painted what I wished i could have done differently, hoping the energy of that would somehow alter the actual reality for the woman I didn't get to offer assistance to. Like a prayer in physical form.
There was nothing more you could have done.
((((((((((((((((((many hugs, if you want them))))))))))))))))))))

Continued prayers and warm thoughts for you, Kiya