She’s staying … for now
NEW ORLEANS – In her darkest moments since she returned to her ravaged hometown, Rosemary Campo wishes she had just stayed in the house and drowned.
“Then I wouldn’t have to face this,” she said during one of those brief, but grim flashes of futility. “I had the perfect life. It all got taken away.”
Hurricane Katrina and the floodwaters destroyed nearly every remnant of Campo’s 78 years of life, forcing her to flee to Spokane to stay with her son. This week, she returned to her home for the first time.
Until she laid eyes on the house where she had lived for 45 years, Campo was determined to stick it out in this forsaken city. “I was born in New Orleans and I’m gonna die in New Orleans,” she would often say in her deep, gravely voice.
But on Tuesday, two days after the shock of seeing her once-submerged home, Campo wasn’t as sure.
As the reality hit of starting over in a city she no longer recognized, Campo’s determination faltered.
Spokane, she said, might be a possibility someday.
“Life is cruel,” Campo said. “But you can’t die. You can’t bury yourself …
“I just hope God gives me the strength to live.”
When she emerges from her bouts of gloom, she often points out how lucky she is.
She has her health, she said, even if Katrina took years off her life.
She also has her sons. Her oldest, Charlie, provides the comic relief she often needs to help her escape reality; John, the son who moved to Spokane 13 years ago, has been her “pillar of support.” He was the one who made all the arduous calls to FEMA and the insurance adjusters, who kept going back into the mucky mold-infested house with his mother when everyone else had given up.
Among her many blessings, she said, is a roof over her head. Since Charlie, who drove with her to Spokane to escape Katrina, has no plans to live in New Orleans again, Rosemary moved in to his minimally-damaged second-floor apartment in the suburbs of Jefferson Parish.
The waiting list at this 300-unit complex has hundreds of names, but the landlords allowed Rosemary to take over Charlie’s payments. She didn’t have much to move in – a bowling ball, a box full of ceramic cat figurines and a few other moldy possessions she salvaged from her home.
After she and her sons left the dank, devastated house on Paris Avenue earlier this week, Rosemary – still wearing her respirator, rubber gloves and protective clothing – walked to her neighbors’ abandoned homes. Like other parts of the Gentilly section of town, which was underwater for weeks, it may take a lifetime – if it can be done – to rebuild this neighborhood.
She tacked a piece of paper with her name and address on every door. “I want people to find me,” she said. “I want to get in touch with all my old friends.”
But Rosemary has been able to locate only one – 80-year-old Micki Landry, her table tennis partner for years, now lives in Mobile, Ala. She has no idea if the rest are even alive.
She’s also a little nervous about the changes in New Orleans. After the mass exodus from Katrina, few have returned to town and those who are here don’t have it easy. Even simple tasks such as shopping have become a hassle.
“People are so tired right now they don’t have the energy to care,” said John Campo, describing the aggression and apathy among people they’ve encountered in recent days. “Everyone’s upset or angry.”
When he took his mother to a bank, they waited in line for hours. At Home Depot, where they searched for cleaning supplies and shelving, every aisle was full of shoppers. The merchandise is limited, and there’s no one around to help. In fact, many stores and restaurants have “Help Wanted” signs on their doors.
New Orleans – along with his mother’s life – will never be the same, said John Campo.
On Monday, the brothers will fly back to their jobs and other responsibilities in Spokane, leaving their mother behind.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen when they leave,” said Rosemary. “I’ll make new friends. I’ll carry on … If I get lonely enough, I might decide to come up to Spokane.”