GRETNA, La.
All
Patryce Jenkins wanted was to walk home.
For
two days after Hurricane Katrina struck on Aug. 29, 2005, Jenkins
had wandered the flooded streets of New
Orleans, exhausted, hungry, filthy and terrified. She passed bodies.
She avoided looters. She skirted the sweltering, violent Louisiana
Superdome - the city’s fetid shelter of last resort.
Finally,
Jenkins made it downtown to the convention center, where she had
been told evacuation buses would be waiting, only to discover a
sea of tens of thousands of desperate hurricane victims like her,
waiting in vain to be rescued.
Yet
Jenkins, at the time a 911 operator for the New Orleans Police Department
who was forced from her post when the police headquarters flooded,
was so close to home she could taste it. Her apartment was on high
ground just a few miles away, across the Mississippi River, on the
other side of the New Orleans suburb of Gretna.
So
Jenkins set out for home. She started walking up a ramp onto the
massive steel Crescent City Connection bridge leading to the other
side of the Mississippi River known locally as the West
Bank. But she didn’t get far. A phalanx of black-clad Gretna
police officers, wielding what Jenkins said were “huge guns like
they have in Iraq,” ordered her
to turn back. One officer fired a warning shot over her head.
“I
was just trying to get to safety,” Jenkins recalled. “I had my driver’s
license to prove where I lived. But those police didn’t even look
at my ID. I was called racist names. ... I was just crying in disbelief.
I couldn’t understand how people could be so heartless to force
me back into the hell I had just escaped from.”
Three
years after Katrina’s floodwaters destroyed New
Orleans, what happened to Jenkins and hundreds of others who tried
to flee the city’s chaos by crossing the bridge to Gretna
remains the subject of conflicting perceptions, lingering racial
bitterness and a variety of civil rights lawsuits now making their
way through state and federal courts.
And
now there’s an added concern: that this week’s Hurricane Gustav,
as well as an ominous line of still more tropical storms gathering
out in the Atlantic Ocean, will push the Gretna bridge incident
even deeper into the obscurity of the history books, unaddressed
and unresolved.
Tribal
instincts took over
To
many African-Americans and other Gretna
critics, the decision by officials of the mostly white suburb to
bar entry to the mostly black victims of Katrina amounted to an
overtly racist - and blatantly unconstitutional - blockade of the
only escape route they could find.
“We
questioned why we couldn’t cross the bridge,” recalled Larry Bradshaw
and Lorrie Beth Slonsky, two San Francisco paramedics
who were trapped in New Orleans when Katrina
struck and who led a group that tried to cross into Gretna.
“[The
police] responded that the West Bank was not going to become New Orleans, and there would be no Superdomes in their city,” the paramedics
wrote later in an essay about their experience. “These were code
words for: If you are poor and black, you are not crossing the Mississippi
River, and you are not getting out of New Orleans.”
Yet
to Gretna officials, and even some black residents
of the town that is 56 percent white and 36 percent black, blocking
off the bridge was the only prudent way to protect their hurricane-ravaged
municipality from the looting and violence that seemed to be erupting
all across New Orleans.
Although Gretna did not flood like New
Orleans, officials said they had no food, water, shelter or transportation
to offer to the New Orleans refugees.
“I
don’t feel like it was a matter of not letting them cross the bridge
because of their skin color,” said Rev. Jesse Pate, pastor of the
predominantly African-American Harvest Ripe Church in Gretna, who
sheltered some of his own displaced parishioners for several days
after Katrina struck, until city officials ordered them to evacuate.
“There was nothing here to serve them with. Gretna didn’t let its own residents stay. We were asked to leave.”
On
one point, at least, nearly everyone seems to agree: Atop the bridge
to Gretna, under the strain of an unprecedented crisis, the thin veneer
of American civilization peeled back for a moment to reveal the
atavistic, tribally protective impulses coursing beneath.
“No
one in America today can realize the collapse of civil
authority that happened in this area after Katrina,” said Ronnie
Harris, Gretna’s mayor for the past 23 years. “People think,
‘That can’t happen here.’ Well, it did happen. It was a return to
basic human nature, a clannish feeling. You clung to people you
know, people you trust and what’s familiar and comfortable to you.”
Constitutional
rights?
The
question now making its way through the courts is the legality of
the way Gretna officials acted on that clannish feeling. Plaintiffs in at least
four civil lawsuits are seeking class-action certification at a
court hearing later this month for their claims that the closing
of the Crescent City Connection bridge violated their constitutional
rights, including the right to peaceful assembly, equal protection
and freedom from cruel and unusual punishment.
“It
was absolutely inhuman,” said Adele Owen, an attorney representing
some of the plaintiffs. “These people hadn’t slept, they had no
food, they had no water, they had no place to stay. And [Gretna
police] sent them back to the Superdome.”
Much
of the case against Gretna turns on the judgment by local officials - critics call it racially
induced hysteria - that their town of 17,423 was facing an imminent
threat from New Orleans
looters and criminals.
“If
you are in your house and they’re rioting all around to get in,
are you going to let them in?” Gretna Police Chief Arthur Lawson
was quoted as saying in the New Orleans Times-Picayune a month after
Katrina struck. “We saved our city and protected our people.”
‘Nobody
died’
Harris
insists race had nothing to do with his stricken city’s decision
to close its border with New Orleans. He noted, for example, that whites
as well as blacks were among the Katrina victims turned back by
police - and that Gretna officials were acting on assurances from
state and federal officials that hundreds of buses were on the way
to New Orleans to evacuate the city.
“Nobody
got hurt, nobody died, but the world is left with the impression
that we are a racist community, and that is incorrect and totally
unfair,” Harris said.
But
the plaintiffs say they never expected Gretna
to serve as their refuge. All
they wanted was the right to walk through the town on their way
out of New Orleans - a
right of free travel that they believe no American community should
be able to violate.
“I
just don’t want this to happen again if we have another hurricane
like Katrina,” said Joycelyn Askew, another Katrina victim who was
turned back on the bridge and is a plaintiff in one of the lawsuits.
“I just wouldn’t want anybody to have their rights violated like
this so that they can’t be allowed to escape.”
Copyright
© 2008, Chicago
Tribune
BlackCommentator.com
Guest Commentator, Howard Witt, is the Southwest Bureau Chief in
Houston, TX for the Chicago Tribune. Click here
to contact Mr. Witt. |