Day 1 (Thrs., Sept. 1)

Here we go again. I am on the road again. This time I'm going EAST! That's right! EAST to Florida not WEST to California. No, I am not confused. I got a new job. I am becoming an internship brat. As I headed out of Houston this morning at 8:04 a.m., I felt as if this trip was redundant. I am headed to Ft. Lauderdale for my fifth internship, the third in which I will spend at least three months. It's a fun experience being a student and being able to learn with this type of on-hand experiences. It's something tuition cannot buy.

It has been nearly three weeks since I finished my summer stint at the San Angelo Standard-Times. I had a great summer there. Had my own apartment, did some traveling throughout Texas and got to meet some really cool people. I am definitely going to miss San Angelo. I will miss the fact that everything in San Angelo is back to the basics. It's a town in which you can do a lot of work in one day and still have enough daylight to relax and do some personal photography. I am sure going to miss the fact that I was able to get to work in three minutes as my apartment was just .6 miles away from the office. But that was this summer. It's time to look forward to the fall.

I have to say that I really enjoyed my three-week vacation. I cleaned, I did a lot of errands and I read so much this past two weeks. Boy did I read! It was fun to read. It's one hobby that I do not get to enjoy too often as I am always running around to work and school. But these past couple of weeks were perfect reading time. I was able to read up more on my favorite writer Gabriel "Gabo" Garcia Marquez. I got to learn about the Texas-ATM rivalry through the cool anecdotes in Backyard Brawl. Wow! I can't believe I actually read a book from cover to cover as leisure. I haven't done so in sooooooo long. Not since The Sun Also Rises. I also read the Houston Chronicle newspaper from cover to cover, and being a newspaper man, I love to do so. Other vacation experiences included going to a Latino comedy show, boating and tubing in the Galveston Bay, watching a bunch of really cool movies and much more. Among the really cool things about this past two weeks was the fact that I got a chance to hang out w/ Steve Gonzales, the director of photography at the Houston Chronicle. He's a really cool person and I admired how he said hi to everyone, including the cleaning lady, the security guard and everyone we cross paths. That's an amazing thing. I love people who love people. I would really love to work for him some day in the future. And no, I am not trying to kiss up to him w/ this note. I just feel really honored for him to take time off his busy schedule to talk to a student chump who was in town and really missed being in a newsroom environment.

I actually missed the newsroom. You would think that after working hard all summer, I would want to be away from it. Well, technically, it was fun to relax. But I was getting anxious to get to work. In fact, I laid the camera down for the most part as I can re-group my photo goals. I just want to start my fall w/ a fresh mind. I think I proved while watching The Godfather on the boat deck and I was interrupted by a lightning show. I headed out to the beach and shot the following photo:

It seems as all good lightning photography happens in the middle of the night. I put the t.v. and drinks back into the house and drove out to the beach and shot this. It's amazing how I was able to shoot this photo while lacking most of the right equipment. All I had was my camera "Stephanie" and a 50mm lens. No tripod, no shutter release. None of the cool stuff we photographers spend so much $$$ to be ready for photos like this. A pillow, a few towels and some patience got the photo.

So, part of the reason why it took me a while to get out to my next internship was because I needed to get the OK from the paper. The process in getting hired there was very thorough, but it will speed things up by the time I get there. I will go straight to work and not worry about the paperwork part. Also, one thing that kept me behind was the wake of Hurricane Katrina. I was trying to wait it out as it disappeared into the sky. However, this was one storm that never died down and ended creating the worst natural disaster I have ever heard of. And witnessed.

The above photo almost made me cry. As thousands of people were being evacuated from New Orleans, I was heading in that direction. It was my journalistic gut that told me "go to the strike zone". However, I was very scared and confused as to why I was going there. Of course, I had to drive through there to get to Florida. But, I think I would have driven there even if I didn't have to. It's the journalist in me that pushes me to do so. The two Greyhound buses above were one of more than 100 buses that I saw as I was going east on I-10. Full of people from New Orleans heading to Texas for shelter. It was 11:01 a.m., just three hours and 178 miles since I left Houston. There, just past the Louisiana/Texas border, I saw these buses. It bought a tear to my eye to see so many people who have lost it all. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was worse 27 minutes later when I saw a caravan of about 12 ambulances speeding, w/ the sirens on, rushing to get treatment for those inside. I felt bad, but I knew there was worse to come.

One of the coolest things about the incident, if there are any cool things, is to see how people were coming together. It was seen on the freeway. Eastward there were lots of civilian trucks full w/ gas tanks, food, water, snacks and other helpful items that people were rushing to get to the strike zone area. Just as I crossed into Louisiana, I saw a couple of Texas State Emergency Response teams heading East. Later, I saw a caravan of at least 12 trucks w/ trailers. On the decks of the trailers sat shallow water boats, you know the kind that have the huge fan in the back of the driver, above the water. Everyone seemed to be doing something for the victims. That was beautiful to see. The humanity part of it all.

Twenty-four minutes went by and more Greyhound buses drove in the opposite direction. Six minutes later, a sign of relief broke the tension I was feeling. I've reached the famous Henderson Swamp. Although it was gloomy, I felt at ease as I saw a new place in the U.S. A hobby of mine is to see new places in the country as often as possible.

Not long after that, I reached a big steel cage. It was none other than the I-10 bridge that crosses over the Mississippi River. Despite all the sadness that was felt in the air because of this week's events, I was quite happy. In fact, I text messaged a few of my close friends saying that I had reached the Mississippi and neither Huckleberry Finn or Tom Sawyer had "anything" on me. Suddenly, I found myself back in my sophomore year at Ulysses S. Grant High School in Van Nuys, California. Day-dreaming about my English class w/ Mrs. Fisher. I remember reading the book, but the one thing that stuck out the most was the river. I day dreamed about how Hugo Godinez, one of my closest friends in high school, and I talked about the book as we rode the bus to our baseball games at other schools.

The day dreaming soon evaporated just like the gas in my tank. Suddenly, I was stuck in a line at a gas station just outside of Baton Rouge. I waited in line for nearly 15 minutes before a lady came out and said they had ran out of gas. Dang! I had to backtrack nine miles and gas up. By the time I got to that gas station, all there was left was regular type gas as the Supreme and Plus were all out. But at 1:56 p.m. I was full on gas and ready to jump back on the road. I was beginning to get scared as I headed back on the highway toward the destruction zone.

Then I saw a sign on the road that instructed that the New Orleans metropolitan area was blocked off completely. I should have headed north toward Hammond, but I was stubborn and I wanted to do my part in documenting this event. Later, at 2:20 p.m. I encounter some heavy rain and it got real dark. I was beginning to feel more concerned.

Sad to say, but there was no way I was going to go into New Orleans. It was heavily blocked off by officials and I was not going to test my luck driving any further. So, I took the next highway north toward Hammond. I could have saved 30 minutes and some good gas by going directly to Hammond, but I at least had to try. Highway 55 crosses right through Lake Maurepas and Lake Pontchartrain in the St. John the Baptist Parish of Louisiana, so I took that route. The photo above and below are some of the destruction seen on the Lake Pontchartrain side of the highway. I was pretty far away from where the hurricane struck down, but I was beginning to see the awful trail the wind and rain left behind.

I proceeded east on Interstate Highway 12 toward the north entry to New Orleans. But that road was again blocked off. The only thing I could do was head north on Interstate Highway 59 that took me into the Mississippi/Louisiana border. Just before the border, however, I drove through Pearl River where I saw more signs of the hurricane. There was a gas station that was totally shaken up by the storm. Below, a soda machine was dragged a couple of dozen feet through the cement and found its resting spot next to a gas pump.

Imagine the force of the wind as it dragged this machine through the ground as if it were a cardboard box.

A Uhaul trailer had nothing on the wind as it was tossed on its side and rested next to a pole.

The local newspaper had stopped delivering since Sunday, a day before the storm came through. A copy of the last issued delivered to this gas station showed what there was to look out for.

A billboard the size of Texas and as strong and heavy looking like that of California governor Arnold Schwartznegger was not strong as the fierce wind showed it who's daddy.

But in spite of all the destruction on the roofs that were blown off houses, the billboard, the soda machine, the one thing that I thought was the most amazing thing to see was this two flowers that were left intact right at the Mississippi/Louisiana border on the bridge over Pearl River. It didn't matter how much wind and rain hit the area, this flowers were there. Signs that you can find the strongest of all living things in such delicate bodies. To me this flower epitomizes what Katrina was all about. I guess a better fitting flower to have in this case would have been the Magnolia, which is the state flag for both Mississippi and Louisiana. But the symbolism was there, nonetheless. As it headed over Florida a week ago, people were saying it wasn't going to be that big. As a matter of fact, the hurricane was a Category One storm when it went over Dade County in South Florida. However, this little storm got strong as it hit the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico and created into the perfect storm, the big one -- if you will, that people in these states have been fearing for quite a long time. The irony of it all is that you cannot underestimate the power of a small thing -- not even a flower.

Ok, I got chills thinking about this as I write this entry. Call it poetic, call it just corny luck. But, the fact is that this little flowers were tougher than a big bad billboard. Think about that for a second.

As I said, the photo of the flowers happened to be right at the Louisiana/Mississippi Border. So, since I was visiting a new state in the U.S. for the first time, I had to take the necessary "I was there" photo. Someday, I will have 50 "I was there" photos for every state in the union. This one, however, will have the best anecdote. No, not because of the hurricane and the flower. Ok, maybe a little about that. But as I walked close to the Welcome to Mississippi sign, a long, black and ugly water snake jumped up and slid away from me. AAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I got soooooo scared. First of all, because of my fear and dislike for snakes. I really don't like looking at them, let alone having them jump up from the grass. Goodness, I thought. Now I was really scared. I guess it was a sign of what to expect in Mississippi. And if that wasn't enough signs, here's more food for thought: It was 4:56 p.m. (notice the continuous numbers) and the mileage from the time I headed out of San Angelo and into this point was 1,033.3 miles (don't forget that No. 3 is my favorite number). Wow!

The first off-ramp in Mississippi had more destruction. Power lines down, trees bent and broken and road signs on the ground.

That was only the beginning. At 6:08 p.m. (just over 10 hours since I left Houston) I was in line at a BP gas station in Hattiesburg when gas ran out. Man, I had half a tank and I didn't want to proceed w/o filling up first. I am the type of traveler who doesn't like the gas level to go below the half mark. If it does, I become very paranoid. Today I was more than paranoid, I was tense and scared. Well, since there were no other gas stations open in this town, I decided to drive 30 miles north to Laurel. I had signs of hope as there were two gas stations w/ lines. After spending more than 30 minutes in line, a man approached my truck and asked to see my "credential". Quickly I found out that the line was filled w/ people who worked as electricians. The gas station's supply was restricted to just electricians so that they can get to the right locations and help w/ getting power back up since most of the state of Mississippi was in the dark. Dang! I just lost 30 minutes of driving time. Not that I was in any hurry, but the sun was going down and I was becoming scared as I was low on gas.

I drove three miles north to a Texaco station where I was sure to ask if the gas was for the public. A police officer told me "the gas has been confiscated for use of emergency personnel". That was not what I wanted to hear as I had a quarter tank left in supply. Sure, I had a two-gallon gas tank in the back of my truck just in case of an emergency, but I was leaving that until I was in a real "emergency". At this point I was away from most of the destruction and there was a lot of people around. We could have watched each other's back if I ended up spending the night here. The next gas station had a line. But that line was full of people who were out of gas and were willing to spend the night there until the next gas shipment came through. I was behind two U.S. National Guard members, so if I had to spend the night there, at least I was around someone that can look out for me.

The talk around the gas station, an On The Run gas stop located on U.S. Highway 84 just west of Interstate Highway 59, was that the next shipment of gas was not coming for another 24 to 48 hours. By now I was so scared that I forgot to shoot any photos, as you can tell, since I don't have anything to share except my humble story. Then a man, the only other Mexican I saw at this gas station, came up to me and started making small talk. He mentioned that the next town, Meridian, was a larger town and probably had more gas stations open. The town, however, stood some 50-plus miles away and I wasn't sure if a quarter tank would get me there. Of course, I had the two-gallon to rely on, but I didn't want to touch that. He told me he also had a quarter tank, but his truck was an eight cylinder as opposed to my six-cylinder Tacoma. Since I didn't want to go ahead w/ him, he decided to hit the road again. With all the stories coming out of New Orleans, w/ the looting and the carjacks, I wasn't about to trust anyone. But after he left, I started thinking about what he said. I walked around and asked some of the people around there if they knew anything about the next town. Most seem to agree that there was a lot more gas stations as it was a bigger city. Laurel is a small town in southeastern Mississippi. The cell phone reception is horrible as I saw many people point their flip phones toward the sky hoping to catch a signal. I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to stay there that night and make my friends and family worry about my whereabouts. I knew that the bigger town at least had phone reception and I could at least put my dad at ease w/ a phone call. With that in mind, I prayed. I asked God to lead me to gas and for his protection and headed north to Meridian.

Forty-eight miles later I was in Meridian, I got in line behind Camry and waited there for about one and half hour to load up on gas. As I pulled behind the Camry, however, the low-gas light came on. Whew! I thought. Then I thanked God for doing his/her/its part.

It was now 9:25 p.m., (13 and half hours after I left on my journey) and I was full on gas. I went more than four hours on half a tank. I feared for my life ever since the gas line went below the half mark. Next time, I will pack a few more gallons as reserve. This was sure a learning experience.

Twenty-three and half miles later just after 10 p.m. I crossed the Alabama/Mississippi border. So, I had to do the "I was there" photo as I saw another state for the first time. This was the second state of the day and the fourth this year. Within the past 18 months, I have seen 12 new states. I still have Georgia and Florida to see by the end of this trip, so the tally goes up. For now, I was in a new state, but it's dark. I can't see much of this state for the time being.

I took an hour break at the first Alabama rest stop. I ate a meal for the first time today. I was looking to eat about five hours before that, but I was just so scared about gas that some potatoe chips did just fine. During the break I was able to eat some real food, sort of. Wendy made sure I had can food enough to take care of me for a few days. I fixed up dinner and relaxed as my heart finally began to work at a normal beat. A good wash-up at the restroom and I was ready to keep going. By now, I was wide awake and the fear in me just wanted to get me out of there. I just wanted to get to Florida. Anywhere but here. I even thought how I would rather be in Cuba instead of this place as I saw road signs to Cuba, Alabama on my way to Montgomery.

As I headed East on U.S. Highway 80, I came across a few towns. Mostly, I drove through very lonely places. In Selma a city in Dallas County I drove next to a restaurant that made me smile. "Woohoo!" I thought as I saw the happy star. However, this wasn't the Carl's Jr. restaurant that I grew up loving in California. It was a Hardee's.

Hardee's?

But that's the Carl's Jr. happy star!

What happened to Carl's?

What the hell is a Hardee's? Well, turns out, from all the advertisement on the windows, Hardee's is not very different than Carl's Jr. They have almost the same things, just different names for the burgers. It was midnight, so the place was close. But even if it had been open, I would probably skip trying it out just because it seemed "fake".

As I kept driving, the fog was settling down. I was getting a bit tired. I really didn't want to, but three hours after getting into Alabama, when I arrived in Montgomery to gas up I decided it was bed time. By now I had been on the road for 17 hours. I wasn't tired at all, but I knew I had to give myself a break. Gassing up kinda hurt. It was the first time that I had ever paid over three dollars for gas. But at $3.09 and some of the gas stations in Montgomery w/ "no gas" signs out front, I had no choice.

Directly behind the DP gas station there is a RV park. I parked my truck in there and that's where I am finishing off today. I will sleep for as long as my posture allows me to on this car seat. I plan to finish out the drive by tomorrow. So, I hope I give my body some good rest. For now, I must catch some Z's. I don't want to, but it's the wise thing to do.

Good night. May the unfortunate souls just south of here have a comfortable shelter to spend tonight. It's rough out there. It's rough.

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