Katrina victim speaks exclusively to the Collegian
Dan O'Brien, Collegian Staff
September 19, 2005
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, quite possibly the most devastating storm the United States has seen in over a century, stories of survival, human compassion and people banding together have begun to emerge.
Cody Siragusa, 19, was beginning his freshman year at the University of New Orleans when the powerful storm hit. The entire city of New Orleans was ordered to evacuate two days before the storm would strike.
Because Siragusa is from Los Angeles, Calif., he had nowhere to go. He chose to stay put. His father used to live on Cape Cod and supported his son's decision to stay, once being a seasoned New Englander himself.
Siragusa told the Daily Collegian of his harrowing experience by phone Saturday. He admits he had no idea the hurricane would be so catastrophic.
"I'd never been through a hurricane, I was kind of excited," Siragusa says. "I was thinking 'all right, this is pretty cool.'"
It was not until the last moments before the storm struck that Siragusa realized it was much bigger than he had expected. Being the only student remaining in his dormitory, he stayed on his cell phone with his girlfriend and parents until he lost phone service.
"When I did finally fall asleep around 7 a.m. Monday morning, I slept for about a half-hour to an hour. I dreamt about surfing because the building was rocking back and forth," he said of his eight-story dormitory built of cinderblock.
Ultimately, the swinging woke him up, before he walked around the building to check out what damage the storm's fury had unleashed. A short time later, he saw a large window getting blown out.
After riding out the storm alone in his dorm for a few hours, Siragusa took a look through the windows to find any signs of life. He says he observed two men walking down the street, pulling a boat with two dogs on board.
"I see them outside and I say 'geez, I can't leave them there.'"
What first grew to three men and two dogs, eventually grew to 24 people and six dogs by week's end, all living on the forth floor of a dormitory.
By late Monday afternoon, Aug. 29, Siragusa and another man, "Ricky," ventured out into the flood waters to see if anyone needed assistance, or if they could retrieve any supplies. Siragusa describes the flood waters as "shoulder, to lower-neck" deep in the neighborhoods around the university.
Siragusa says he and Ricky "pulled the boat by grabbing power lines" because they had no oars. They rescued four people stranded in their houses and brought them to safer ground at the university.
The University of New Orleans campus is located on higher ground from the surrounding neighborhoods, which made it a good place for refugees to seek higher ground. However, he describes the flood waters on the campus at the time as "waist deep."
Hope appeared to arrive late Monday afternoon, as a group of firefighters stop off at the campus. Before they left, they took one of the refugees with them, Siragusa says, because she was "freaking out." The firefighters say they will return to the campus with food supplies.
But they return with more refugees - 13 in all. They ranged from an infant to the elderly. One of the women required a wheelchair.
Siragusa and Ricky then leave the dorm again to retrieve another refugee down the street.
By nightfall, the firefighters give the refugees permission to break into student's dorm rooms to take food. By Tuesday morning, they had broken into the vending machines as well.
"We were walking around tossing bags of chips, skittles, anything we could find in the dorm rooms."
Siragusa says despite the scary situation, the refugees in the dorm banded together and lived "like one big, happy family."
By Tuesday night, Siragusa and the others allow another family to stay in the dorms after they see a group of people pushing an air mattress down the street, through the water, with a dog, cat and other belongings on top.
Most of Tuesday night is spent trading stories, he says.
Wednesday is largely spent gathering supplies at nearby flooded out convenience stores. After acquiring a new boat the day before, Siragusa says he and three others rowed to the local Walgreens. Amazingly, the boat fit through a broken window, and the refugees collected as many supplies as they could carry. He describes the depth of the water as over one's head, and explains the only supplies they could carry were ones which floated on top of the water, such as bottles of water and rubbing alcohol.
At a Shell across the street, Siragusa's friend kicked bottles of water out of a cooler with his feet, while he and a woman tossed the bottles into the boat.
"We could feel critters in the station, swimming by our feet," he said.
He claims he saw a frog floating on a can of Budweiser. A coincidence to the beer's mid-1990s advertising campaign.
"Even in a time of crisis, [the frog] is still loyal," he jokes.
Finally by late Wednesday afternoon, the firefighters return to the dorms and tell the refugees that another storm is expected in a few days. They are told to leave now.
The refugees spend Wednesday night and most of Thursday sitting around waiting for helicopters to take them to a nearby airport. The group eventually takes the three-mile walk there around sundown.
"It's dark, it's muddy, it's just eh... yucky," Siragusa says of the walk.
They arrive around 1 a.m. Friday and are forced to sleep on the tarmac.
By midday, the refugees are taken by helicopter to a larger airport, the Louis Armstrong International Airport. Upon arrival, they file into a triage unit and receive medical care, including tetanus shots.
The refugees are told they will be boarding a plane to Texas.
"We were just going to go wherever they put us," Siragusa says. "They could've said 'we're taking you to Canada,' and we'd say 'let's do it!'"
While waiting in line for the planes, Siragusa explains, "We get in line. It turns into this big mob and it's no longer a line. We couldn't get out of the mob because we'd never be able to get back in."
No one sleeps that evening.
While waiting in line, he explains, "we were moving two inches an hour - literally."
Eventually, Siragusa and the others board a plane to Austin, Tex. and stay at the city's convention center. Having "a little juice left" in his cell phone, he calls his father in Los Angeles, who instructs him to stay with a friend in Austin. He sleeps at the friend's house for an evening and boards a plane back to California the next day.
As Siragusa reflects on his experience, he mostly credits the Army, Air Force and "average Joe's" who helped him along the way.
"The Air Force that took us from New Orleans to Texas, they were great. Super friendly. They were saying 'We're so glad to help you guys. We're so happy to get you guys out of there.'
"One guy actually asked the serviceman to take a picture of us and he said 'no problem.' The Army and Air Force were really great and helpful," he said.
Amazingly, Siragusa says he and the other members of his makeshift family are planning to return to New Orleans one day.
"We all decided that when we get back, we're gonna have a nice, hot meal. We're all gonna keep in touch."
Among his criticisms of the response effort, Siragusa says "they should have built a better levee."
He also cites President Bush's administration for not acting quickly enough in the wake of the hurricane.
"I found out an Air Force Base in Kentucky had everything it needed and was just waiting for an okay. They had helicopters and troops.
"If it wasn't for us chasing a stupid war in Iraq, we'd have had the troops we needed," he said.
Siragusa says once he returns to New Orleans, he would like to volunteer his time working in low-income neighborhoods. With the University of New Orleans located in a relatively low-income neighborhood, he says he "saw a lot of poverty in the way [his neighbors] got treated," and would like to help.
Siragusa has now transferred to the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. He is majoring in music education.
Copyright Daniel O�Brien and the Massachusetts Daily Collegian. This article may not be redistributed without written permission under United States law.
