lucky refugee

At our much delayed breakfast on Saturday morning, I happened to mention a dance buddy named D, and in the same breath mentioned that he lives in New Orleans. We both looked up and gasped and then immediately wondered how he was faring.

Sl0w-forward a few hours to the first contra dance of the season, also on Saturday. There, across the hall was D. I went up to see how he was doing and he said he was looking for a place to stay. I happily offered him a spare bed at our house and he came home with us.

The next day, we all went out to brunch, then to an exhibit that a friend helped curate, Hope and Healing: Painting in Italy in a Time of Plague, 1500-1800. I figured a little hope and healing were in order. We met up with friends there, all went out for middle eastern food, and then home to fresh corn, salad, and bed. D took off the following morning for the next part of his adventure.

Next stop: a camp in Malibu Hills in California for two weeks.

His story was pretty simple and relatively happy. He had been planning to ride out the storm at home but friends called and convinced him to move in with them. So he spent a week in a trailer, I think, with two people, 12 dogs, a few other assorted pets. For the first few days, he stayed glued to the TV. Eventually, he was allowed to go home for a few hours and check on his place, which is fine. He threw out food, took the first plane out of town, and landed in Boston. Somehow, he found his way to the dance (not necessarily easy) and thought he'd quietly mention to a few folks that he was looking for a place to stay.

He is so lucky -- he has the inner and financial resources to have escaped, his house did not incur any damage, his mom, who lives nearby, is fine. He just needs to worry about when there will be enough resources (food, electricity, and so on) to make it reasonable to go home. And he needs to worry about his job. Apparently, he's employed at least through the end of the month, and on Monday, he was able to reach his boss' voice mail. I expect that he'll have a job at some point. This is not to say that there's been no trauma; I expect there has been at least some. Perhaps time at the camp will also offer some hope and healing.

Yow. Much gratitude is in order.