 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
|
More Evacuees Stream In
Families come, on their own, by any way available
San Diego Union Tribune
By Elena Gaona
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
September 9, 2005
Some came by plane. Some drove in. Some came on donated bus tickets. One group ran out of gas and got here one tank at a time, paid for by strangers.
Though it appears the Federal Emergency Management Agency is not airlifting hundreds of evacuees to San Diego after all – at least for now – scores of families from the Gulf Coast are still making their way here on their own.
Most have friends or family in the area, and many say that for the time being, this is home.
|
"Word spread fast. People I don't even know have dropped off groceries and that's how we've survived," said Diana Brown of Paradise Hills, a customer service agent who has 17 New Orleans evacuees living with the family of five in a three-bedroom home. "They're family," Brown said. "Right now it's just a shock of everything's gone, and they need a safe place to stay." The local Red Cross has documented at least 65 families who have made it to San Diego on their own, in addition to 82 people who were flown here by San Diego businessman David Perez. |
|
Since some aren't registering for aid, it's hard to tell how many people are relocating to San Diego from the storm-ravaged Gulf Coast.
At the Todd Moore home in Chula Vista, survival has come in the form of food and clothing donations from neighbors, a local restaurant, friends, friends of friends, and a church.
It gets crowded sometimes in the home of the parents and their five children, who welcomed seven evacuees from the devastated area of Jefferson Parish, La. Three of them are Todd Moore's brothers; two others are their girlfriends; one a child; another, a family friend.
The group made it to San Diego after weathering the hurricane in their home. Windows blew out, trees crashed around them and they waded through nearly waist-high water to get to safety. After spending two sleepless nights at a relative's home, with the National Guard enforcing curfew in the damp darkness, they decided to move on.
"I carried my son like this," George Harris, 25, said, his hands in the air. But after the boy was attacked by mosquitos, the group abandoned Louisiana.
An old van They traveled west in an old van a neighbor gave them, surviving on gas and snack donations.
"There was one point in Texas where we gave up," said Harris, one of the brothers. "We were taking our clothes in grocery bags out of the van, and we were going to walk to a police station when this man saw us and gave us gas money."
They held hands and prayed with the kind stranger before heading out again.
"We're thanking God," Harris said. "Without him, we wouldn't have made it."
|
The old van made it to El Paso before the transmission gave out. A local church-going lady there paid $50 for each of them to ride a bus into San Diego. Some, though, were left behind. Family friend Nashon Hughes, 18, watches the news daily, looking for his mother and sister, who he last knew were at the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans. Many evacuees say their life here means starting over. Maria Meyer, 73, from near New Orleans, is staying with her son, David Meyer, in Encinitas. Meyer is the son-in-law of Paul Ecke of the famed poinsettia-growing family. |
|
Her home, next to Lake Pontchartrain, is probably gone, she said. One of her daughters is in Houston, helping evacuees at the Astrodome before coming to San Diego.
"We understood how horrible everything was and how some people lost their lives, and she wanted to do everything she could," Meyer said, trying to keep a steady voice. "This storm affected us all."
Ryan Kondyra, 27, and Megg Lamb, 23, arrived in San Diego on Sept. 1. They fled New Orleans the Saturday before the hurricane and drove nine hours to Houston to stay with a relative of Lamb's. After a few days there, they arrived in Santee at the home of Kondyra's mother.
Few clothes
Kondyra said he knew the hurricane was serious enough to evacuate, but figured they'd return soon. They packed few clothes.
"I didn't even bring my razor, because I didn't think we'd be gone that long," Kondyra said.
They try to keep their minds off of what lies ahead by just enjoying their time in San Diego, sightseeing and relaxing at the beach.
Sherrie Poche, 29, of Metairie, La., near New Orleans, said, "If I think of all the bridges I'm going to have to be crossing, it's going to overwhelm me."
Her brother is here, so she came by borrowing money for a plane ticket.
Poche is staying at a hotel in Point Loma, where she was placed by the American Red Cross, as were at least seven other families. She is there with her mother,uncle, aunt and two foster children her mother cares for.
Her mother worries she will get in trouble for taking the foster children out of the state, but leaving them behind was not an option.
Poche, a divorced mother of two, surmised that her home is under water. She was a bill collector and will try to find a job here, along with housing and a school for her son, who will join her from his father's Texas home.
For now, it's time to rest in the hotel room and enjoy the simple things, like a new bathing suit for foster child Kelli, 7, who can't wait to get in the hotel pool.
"We're in California," Poche said. "The best thing we can do is just swim."
Many of the evacuees coming on their own have had to navigate assistance individually, carving out their own futures.
Lydia Suazo, 22, a former public relations student at Tulane University, is already enrolled at San Diego State University and has registered for financial aid after leaving 20 evacuated family members in Dallas.
A friend added a line to his cell phone and shared minutes with her so she will have a San Diego number. She is staying with a cousin and a friend.
"I'm just not really counting on FEMA," she said, after long phone waits for federal assistance. "I'm going to try to make it on my own."