Previously: After 400 of us being evacuated from New Orleans in a Delta plane and stayin’ in the Armory, they sent a bunch of us to Travelodge. They put us right there where women were prostitutin’ and there be drugs. They moved some of us to Howard Johnson’s and then my homeboys and homegirls was getting places. Just like me, they had jail records, but not as long as mine. After another few months, I be given thirty days to get all my stuff and get out of the hotel. But they didn’t give me no place to go.
My homegirl Connie say I could stay with her in the apartment that FEMA got for her. Her apartment was a two bedroom, so I had my own room. I used to date her in New Orleans and now we were romantic on and off.
I‘d go out and hustle, often washing cars. I wouldn’t see myself panhandlin’ because I don’t see myself askin’ people for money when I know I’m not gonna do the right thing with it. Instead I would wash cars, help people with grocery bags, help people to paint.
I wouldn’t want anyone who know my family or that I went to school with to see me beggin’, which is another reason I never do that. I would use the money I earned to bring home crack cocaine, liquor, and beer, so Connie and I could get high together.
It was a rainy Sunday night. I’ll never forget it. Connie went out to go turn tricks. Sometimes she brought guys back to the apartment, but she didn’t want me to know she was making money so often she’d go elsewhere.
I saw her get in a man’s car. I see she made a little hustle, and I was thinkn’ she would come back home a little later. She went out that night to go make some money prostitutin’, and we never seen her no more.
I still don’t know where she at. I’m hopin’ she still alive. I wished I had pictures. I never reported it because I don’t deal with the law enforcement because I was a criminal. I also didn’t want people to think I was ratting on anyone; if they see you talking to police, they think you rattin’.
We didn’t have too many people come over—we was just learnin’ the neighborhood. Me bein’ a street guy, I can move around, so it ain’t took long after I got here to learn the wrong part of the hood.
My pattern is you tend to your business. You don’t just get in with people and think they your friends. I know that now, because I made mistakes.
To be continued . . .
My book, “Still Standing: How an Ex-Con Found Salvation in the Floodwaters of Katrina“ is now on Amazon in paperback and Kindle form. I hope you will visit the author’s website at www.katrinastillstanding.com, and tell your friends about it, and if you like, write an Amazon review. Thank you!
