The devastation in South Florida was all over the news. The setup was just right for a 2nd landfall in Louisiana. We've seen major storms over the years that hit between Miami and The Keys only to curve NW and paste us, and Andrew appeared to be no exception. My oldest was one and a half, and my wife was 5 months pregnant with our second. Local news went to 24 hour coverage, and the state of excitement and a call to action gripped the area. This threat was very real. One of the news channels ran a story on pregnancy and extreme low pressure. Apparently someone had put out a theory (and I have no idea if this is true or not) that there was often a rash of emergency labors duing hurricanes. We called the hospital, but they said not to worry but they'd be open anyway in case we needed them.

My boss told us we had to go into the office that morning and work for 2 hours getting things prepared. I was adamantly opposed to this, but agreed to come in an hour earlier if I could get off at 9 and take care of my own business. He agreed. I was living in New Orleans East at the time, but I worked in Kenner. I woke up early, put on TWC and looked at the radar. The fringe bands were just off the coast and had been for several hours prior. So I cruised on out to Kenner and helped take all the computers off the desks, put their dust covers on and move them into the hallways. The building I worked in, Xerox Centre, was an all glass building and untested. So getting our equipment secured was essential.

I left work and stopped by my friend Eric's house. He worked for a local bank and was occupying one of their repossessions at the time. It was a 7,500sf, 2-story, concrete and brick office building with an apartment. All the old gang had started showing up, so I drank a beer with them and headed home to deal with my family. The wife and I decided we would ride the storm out at my dad's house, and I also needed to help my parents get all their loose items secured. I already had a bunch of supplies because I hit the stores before the rush, so we were in good shape. I locked up my dogs in the laundry room where they would be safe, packed up the supplies and the diaper bag and headed out to mom and dad's. We hung out with my dad, but nothing really materialized. We got some wind and a little rain, but it wasn't that big of a deal. We decided to head back home where my wife could be a little more comfortable and less irritated. We got home and the electric wires were arking, and transformers were blowing. The winds were 30, gusting to 45, so the whole night sky was filled with eerie blue light. In my dad's neighborhood, the power lines are all underground, so this was a slight change. There were a few downed limbs in the neighborhood, but it wasn't that bad. I drank a few brews and fell asleep. I woke up early the next morning figuring that I was going to have to go to work and put everything back together. I got up assuming Andrew was over and another boring storm had come but missed the city. Much to my surprise, I opened the door and looked outside and the wind was howling. Gusts were in the 50's, and all the trees were blowing wildly. I let out a great sigh of relief and decided to screw work. I tried to call in, but no one was there. I tried again at 10:30 but still no answer. Screw work, it was time for a few brews. The remainder of that day was spent on my porch, watching news, and driving around looking at downed trees, damaged property and the like. Every now and then a squall would blow through with clouds racing across the sky and winds blowing 40-50+ mph. I went and visited a couple of friends to check on them, and everything was cool. People weren't as lucky in St. Mary, Lower Terrebonne and Lafouche Parishes to our SW, but we had dodged a major bullet. Just 15 miles west of Kenner in the town of Laplace (just off the SW corner of Lake Pontchartrain), a tornado had touched down in a neighbohood killing several people. That was the worst the area saw, but the city was spared. I got 2 bonus holidays and another tropical experience.

Steve