Hurricane Sandy was a storm of huge proportions. I feel for those
who suffered losses from its arrival. Here is a link to ways to help them. I was fortunate to simply experience some
of its range as it took me two full days of steady driving to get through it
and its sister snowstorm from the West. I drove a 22-foot truck to New Orleans
during the storm with much of my stuff in the back. My trip began near Sandy’s
northeastern reach in Cambridge MA. I did not get through the twin storms until
two days later south of Louisville KY.
I decided to move to back to my hometown, New Orleans, last spring.
During the summer I changed my move date to the end of October. I was eager to
get there to start my new life. I also wanted to leave before the Cambridge winter. This was accentuated by the lack of
heat in my apartment, a situation that was helpful in terminating my lease. I
picked October 30 to give me an extra day before the end of the month.
Then I saw the forecasts for hurricane Sandy. I closely monitored
what was happening as it approached, ironically reminding me of Katrina’s
approach at a time that I first thought about moving back home to New Orleans.
There were strong winds predicted throughout my intended path. I changed from
my original route via Scranton, south through the Shenandoah, and passing
through scenic eastern Tennessee before going west. To get out of the storm as
soon as possible, I decided to go straight west through upstate New York and on
to Cleveland before turning south, where the winds were only predicted to be 50
mph. I was going to drive an unfamiliar truck.
I had decided to rent a truck and drive my belongings myself to both
save money and to have them arrive with me. I hired some professional movers to carry my stuff from the top of my third floor walk up (see on the left), load and pack the truck for me. As the storm approached, I moved things forward a day,
to the 29th; I was lucky the movers could handle this new date. Then
Sandy moved forward as well. I was grateful that the movers agreed to load the
truck despite the weather. I was
eager to get out of town and not be struck for days.
My good friend, Thierry Hubert, helped make the departure reality.
My Jeep was already in New Orleans, as I did not want to tow it. So Thierry
drove me to the required stops for errands as the wind was picking up. There was
a series of good and bad turns. Thierry took me first to the cable company
whose Web site said they would be open at 8:30. The truck was to be ready at 10
and the movers would arrive at 10:30. However, the sign of the cable company
door said it would open at 10. Concern rose. Luckily in a few minutes, there
was a woman standing near the door. I asked to give her the cable boxes, as I
had to go get my truck to move. She said I could not come inside but she took
the boxes I handed to her in my black garbage bag.
The truck was 30 minutes late and came with no gas. Thierry used his
GPS to find a place that had diesel. We negotiated some narrow streets in
Somerville and into Cambridge. The movers were waiting. Thierry went out a got
some rope to allow the movers to securely tie in the contents. They did a great
job, as the load did not shift at all during trip.
I was lucky again as the whole time the movers were loading the
truck in Cambridge, it was only misting, even though the winds were high. Some
trees fell near us but the rain
held off. There was sense of urgency! My neighbor kindly let me watch the
latest forecast
on her TV. As soon as I closed the back end of the truck, at
2:30PM, the driving rain started. So the movers and my stuff missed getting
soaked. I put on Clifton Chenier, the Zydeco great, doing “Bon Ton Roule”
as I pulled the big diesel away from my curb. The large windshield wipers were
keeping time with his drummer. The truck cab was as high as a semi and passing
cars looked like the Matchbox series. I was right to get this size truck, given
all I was taking south.
As I drove out of Cambridge, several streets were closed with big
trees across the road. There were strong winds and heavy rain until I was half
way across Massachusetts. The truck swayed a bit in the wind. I drove slowly
and began to get used to the truck. It was a leap of faith or perhaps the
desire to go home that pushed me to not stop. Then the strong wind changed to a
steady wind.
The service area on the Mass Pike was out of power. Fortunately, the
gas pumps and minimart were on a generator. It was the first of many rainy, wet
fill-ups at the diesel pump isolated from the regular gasoline pumps and their
overhead cover. The food venders were closed with no power; they were about to
shut the bathrooms. I bought a bunch of snacks for dinner. I hoped that I could
find a place to sleep with power that night. I did have a flashlight, some
pillows and a quilt in the cab as a backup.
When I got to New York State the rain changed to a mist with the
steady winds so I was able to drive at normal speeds, although I do not go too
fast with the big truck at first. However, I wanted to put as much distance
behind me so I drove late. I spent the night in Geneva NY, between Syracuse and
Rochester. The first motel had no water, and the second was full. Third
took me in and had wifi. I slept well.
On Tuesday I drove 14 hours from Geneva to Munfordville
KY, about 90 min south of Louisville KY. The truck and I were beginning to be
friends. I increased the speed more. There were strong winds and rain. It took me two days to drive through
Sandy. This shows the reach of the storm. I drove diagonally across the whole
state of Ohio from Cleveland to Cincinnati. I sprinkled Obama dust along with
way. I thought about how this
one state may decide our next President. There was snow on the ground in
mid-state Ohio but not on the road as I went through, only rain. I got caught in Cincinnati’s evening rush hour. I finally got
out of the storm south of Louisville and stopped for the night.
The third day was long - 12 hours - but sunny and calm. I got an early
start and watched the
sun come up as I entered Tennessee. To celebrate the sun I had breakfast at a
Waffle House. It was the only time I sat down for a meal, surviving on hot dogs
and fried chicken take out from the various truck stops, not wanting to waste
time. I had to stop often to fill the fuel ravenous truck. I went through Nashville’s morning rush
hour and on through Alabama and Mississippi. I discovered there was a governor
on the truck preventing it from going over 70, even down hill. It made passing
a challenge at times but also made me not worry about any speeding tickets.
I entered Louisiana around 5PM. I drove over the long bridge at
Slidell with the sun shinning through mist at a low angle over Lake
Pontchartrain. I arrived in New Orleans for dinner at 6:30. As I drove into New
Orleans there was a big traffic jam on I-10. I took a chance and got off at the
Orleans Avenue exit just as traffic was stopping completely. I drove through Treme,
past Dookey Chase’s, and reached North Carrolton, turning left toward the River.
Once I crossed Claiborne I saw the green streetcars I often rode in
my childhood. I was home. It felt very comfortable going down the familiar
Carrolton Avenue to my new home near my old neighborhood at Riverbend. Each
street name was now part of my childhood. I put on Clifton Chenier again and
the sounds of “Bon Ton Roule” rode with me down the narrow bumpy street off
Carrolton near the levee to my destination. As I parked people walked by in costumes. Then I remebered it was Halloween. Below you can see my rental truck parked beside my new home.

The next night I walked to the top of the levee near my home and watched the
sunset over the Mississippi River. I had a beer in a go cup as barges quietly passed
in the red glow. I felt that I had been given early admissions to heaven.
