Hurricane Katrina

Cheryl And Campbell's Reunion Story

Forwarded by Mariko Nakanishi with permission to reprint  ~  Veni Harlan, July 2006: We fostered this lovely boy, along with about 65 other birds, when Rita approached and the Gonzales shelter had to evacuate, again. Unlike some, this guy still had papers (so many were lost or "eaten"). He'd been picked up 9/12/05 (two weeks post-Katrina) from Louis Armstrong Elementary School, tagged LA-SPCA #320. I learned this school was on St. Claude Avenue in the 9th Ward. Was he a school pet? Was this a drop off point? Or did someone attempt to steal the bird and then tire of the heavy burden, leaving him on the curb? We'll never know.

Dr. Rich, whose Metairie avian practice was destroyed, deciphered his band, GSBC LA 96 1467, to mean the parrot was 9-years old and bred by a Gulf South Bird Club member. The parrot was underweight and wormy but okay. Like most Yellow Heads, this fellow dubbed "Satchmo" after Louis Armstrong, was vocally gifted. He sang, called out names, greeted visitors, and entertained everyone. Many toys inside his now deteriorating cage told us he was well loved.

Late last year, Cheryl Sanchez called looking for her parrot. She even sounded like Satchmo. When I confirmed her parrot was safe and sound, I heard muffled sobs. "My baby's name is Campbell." She explained how a young relative used Houston shelter computers to find Campbell on Petfinder. With no transportation or clear plan, I suggested she leave Campbell with us till settled. Over the next few months Cheryl called from Houston to check on her bird. When her daughter and son-in-law returned to New Orleans, Cheryl phoned to say they'd get Campbell. That day passed with no one for Campbell. We later learned that Cheryl's daughter woke to find her husband dead in the bed. The daughter was rushed to an emergency clinic and diagnosed with permanent brain damage. The couple, in the midst of home repairs, were poisoned by carbon monoxide as they slept.

Several months passed before I heard from Cheryl. Then, "I now have a FEMA trailer on my property. My baby can come home!" After months with this wonderful parrot, [my] mom had grown attached. With only her housekeeper Aida's help, she'd cared for all birds and paid for feed, supplies, cages. "We really need to get Campbell a better cage to go home" she told me worriedly. I wrote HSUS and to my delight, Disaster Resource Manager Joan Willoughby offered up to $400 to outfit Campbell. Ronny, owner of Country Boy Cages in Denham Springs, generously found a cage with perches, rope, ceramic bowls and food.

Campbell would live in style and comfort. My brother Hansel loaded Campbell and we left for New Orleans in a downpour. The ominous storm stirred memories of Katrina. Would Campbell be safe back in a place still so vulnerable? We could only hope. The weather cleared as we entered the battered city. A dim rainbow arched across the Vieux Carre. We exited on Claiborne into the 9th Ward and slowly traveled through a surreal landscape of debris, abandoned cars, tumbled buildings and empty homes. But signs of hope rose from the mess: People repaired a window, cleaned a yard. Neighbors convened on front steps. A block from the Pauline Street Warf, Cheryl's neighborhood stood deserted. Cheryl flagged us down from the street. We all hugged, then opened the car's back doors.

And Campbell? He took one look at his mom and went crazy, beyond elated. He fluffed and cooed, overcome with joy. Though animated in Baton Rouge, we'd never seen him act this way. Any possible reservations vanished right there on a lonely street as a person and parrot rejoiced in their reunion.

Cheryl, a deeply spiritual woman in her late 50s, believed God had saved her and Campbell. After Cheryl's husband died in 1999, her daughter had given her the parrot. In Cheryl's mind, the spirit of her late husband was embodied in this parrot. Why did Cheryl and others remain in New Orleans when warned to leave? Faith in God. Ignorance of consequences. Lack of transportation or resources to stay elsewhere. Late notice to get out. A strong desire to remain with family and pets.

The Lower 9th Ward is predominately African American, mainly middle to low income families who have lived there for generations. Though challenged by common inner-city problems, a number of organizations, churches and individuals address these problems and hold tight to a family-oriented atmosphere. Cheryl's Holy Cross neighborhood is wedged between Industrial Canal and Mississippi River levees. One-time sugar cane fields and vegetable gardens provided most employment. In the late 1800s, poor African Americans and immigrant laborers risked flooding and disease to live affordably in Holy Cross. Amid mostly shotgun style homes are Creole cottages, side halls, bungalows and occasional brick Italianate structures. The neighborhood bustled with small businesses, barber/beauty shops, corner stores, eateries, day-care centers, public schools and many churches. It has a resilient history of survival and activism.

One of Cheryl's daughters lived nearby in a sturdy home among the highest in the neighborhood. Campbell was brought there to ride out the storm with nine other relatives. They thought, like many, the city had been spared. But on August 30 around 7:00am, the storm surge smashed Industrial Canal floodwalls and released a wall of water into the Lower 9th Ward. Homes and cars were tossed like toys. As more floodwalls gave way, 80% of the city became submerged. As water swiftly rose, Cheryl's family scrambled to the second floor, hoisting Campbell's cage into the attic. Someone used the hammer to bust a hole in the roof (residents had been urged to keep hammers in attics since Hurricane Betsy). Then they waited, with food and water to last a few days. But the view from the roof terrified. Stranded neighbors cried out to each other from rooftops.

Rescue boats that finally arrived only had room for a few. They passed, choosing to stay together. The next day another boat had space for all and rescuers assured Cheryl that meant Campbell too. (That first week, U.S. Coast Guard saved 15,665 people, more than three times the number saved in all of 2004.) The most famous Lower Ninth Ward resident, Antoine Domino, Jr. otherwise known as Fats Domino (the rock-and-roll legend) was also plucked from floodwaters.

Along with hundreds more, Cheryl's group walked in knee-high water to Jackson Barracks, Louisiana National Guard headquarters since World War II. Several buildings rose above floodwaters. But officers drew guns to block their entry. Wet, homeless, panicked, and desperate people gathered in a fog of disbelief and fear. They drudged on to a dry levee, then walked several more miles in darkness to a place with waiting buses. Cheryl's brother could not make the trip. His invalid wife Rosetta had drowned. Overcome by grief, heat and exhaustion, he wanted to die. Cheryl's voice trembled as she told me this. When no buses showed, the family slept on the ground until transporters finally took them to Southern University gymnasium, where they stayed for a month. Then they were housed in Houston Astrodome and still later, in a FEMA-subsidized Houston apartment. In late June, FEMA installed a small tidy trailer on Cheryl's lawn. The City of New Orleans and Army Corps of Engineers classified damage in over 120,000 homes. The Lower 9th Ward has the most homes tagged "red" or structurally unstable.

Someone had taken Campbell to Louis Armstrong Elemetary School five blocks away. A fortuitous act by an unknown do-gooder or thief – or in Cheryl's words, "A glorious miracle of God's angels." Cheryl believed Campbell would come back to her. Interestingly, Louis Armstrong Elementary school, originally McDonogh #19, made history in 1960 as one of the first deep-South schools to open its all-white doors to black children. And now it made history for Cheryl and her beloved bird.

The new cage barely squeezed past the trailer door, yet Campbell easily fit back into Cheryl's life. She has no insurance, but her home is fixable and Campbell will resume his perch on the screened porch to call out to neighbors. Cheryl mentioned a gospel song that spoke to her faith during the Katrina ordeal. She believes they'll be all right. And as Cheryl proved, sometimes belief can make it true.