From Rooftop to Reunion
Rick Camania’s Hurricane Katrina Rescue
Rick Camania’s Hurricane Katrina Rescue
Collected by Dianne de Las Casas September 8, 2005
Rick Camania, a man who had come from the third-world country of the Philippines, had seen his fair share of difficulties. He immigrated to the United States, having to build a brand new life. His training in the U.S. Coast Guard provided him with amazing survival instincts. But even a resourceful man like Rick could not expect the turmoil Hurricane Katrina would cause.
Rick and his wife, Remy, bought a beautiful two-story house in the Lake Bullard subdivision of New Orleans East. For this humble Filipino family, it was a dream come true. Together, Rick and his wife built a beautiful life. Their 26-year old daughter, Sarah, worked at Delgado Community College and their 21-year old daughter, Rachel, attended Louisiana State University School of Nursing. Both girls, extremely close to their parents, still called the house on 5532 Stillwater Drive their home.
Like everyone else, they anxiously watched T.V. for news about Hurricane Katrina, who was churning in the Gulf of Mexico at a strong Category 3. The family finally made the decision to evacuate. At the last minute, Rick decided that he would stay with the house. He had been through many floods in the Philippines and he was sure he could weather this storm. Remy and his daughters begged, “Please come with us!” But Rick was resolute and stayed behind. He assured his family that if things looked bad, he would take the important documents and head to Mobile, Alabama. He never got that chance.
Remy, Sarah, and Rachel hugged Rick and reluctantly left him behind, heading west on Sunday morning at 6:00, evacuating with thousands of others, to Texas. As Remy and her daughters listened to the radio, the news worsened. Hurricane Katrina strengthened from a Category 3 to a 4 and finally to a 5, with winds wailing at a catastrophic 175 mph. Frantically, they called home and urged Rick to leave. He believed in the structural integrity of his house and reassured his wife and daughters that he was going to be okay.
Hurricane Katrina roared in at a strong Category 4 on Monday morning at 6:10. The storm, which took a last minute jog to the east, just missed a direct hit on downtown New Orleans, but devastated New Orleans East. By this time, Remy and the girls were in Houston. They lost phone contact with Rick and had no way of knowing how he was. Remy said, “I was nervous but trying to keep my cool. I prayed constantly.”
As the storm blew in, Remy watched the television, horrified. She saw her entire neighborhood under water. Remy and the girls kept trying to call Rick but could not get through.
Meanwhile, Rick’s Coast Guard training came in handy. His survival instincts kicked in and he remained calm. He weathered the storm and surveyed the damage to his home. Yes, the hurricane flooded his home knee-deep, but he had seen worse. He worked tirelessly, moving valuables, photo albums, and furniture he could salvage to the second floor. He believed that the waters would recede. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.
With the electricity out, he maneuvered around with old-fashioned candlelight. Rick said, “I was never scared. I knew the water would go down. I just wanted to talk to my wife and see how my family was doing.” He listened to his battery-powered radio and heard that the 17th Street Canal had “breached.” Rick said, “I didn’t know the meaning of that word so I didn’t worry about it.”
The water in the house began to rise, but only by about three inches. “I still wasn’t worried,” said Rick. He continued checking the flow of the water and it was very still. Though heat was sweltering, he even managed to catch a few hours of sleep on Tuesday night, stretching out on a sofa on the second floor. “It felt like a 103 degrees with no breeze.”
At around 3 o’clock Wednesday morning, Rick began to feel hungry. He had not eaten since before the storm blew in. Rick didn't get up because it was pitch black in the house. He had to wait for light to break to be able to see. But he could not go back to sleep. As he was lying down, he heard splashing and he knew it was fish jumping. He surmised that the lake waters had come inland because hurricane winds pushed the water in from the lake.
He waited until daybreak and he dipped his fingers in a can of corned beef. Rick said, “It was too salty and I decided that I needed some rice to go with it. So I went downstairs to the kitchen. That’s when I saw a big box floating. The water had risen to fifth step. I realized it was my refrigerator!” Rick, who is about 5 feet 7 inches tall, described the water as “belly-button high.” He waded barefoot through water and pried the heavy refrigerator door open. He retrieved the rice, which was still cold and unspoiled. Accompanied with bottled water, Rick ate a meal of corn beef and rice upstairs.
By 8:00 o’clock Wednesday morning, Rick heard the swishing of helicopter blades. He saw helicopters flying around but he said, “In my mind, I didn’t need to be rescued.” It wasn’t until he detected a funny odor that he felt alarmed; it was the smell of diesel and oil. Rick said, “I saw bubbles rising in the water in the house. I told myself, ‘This is not right anymore.’ So I began packing a school backpack with as many clothes as I could fit - two shirts, one pair of pants, and one pair shoes.”
He climbed out of his daughter’s bedroom window onto the breezeway that connected the house and the garage. He climbed to the top of the garage and began waving a white towel overhead, signaling at helicopters flying by. When he was finally rescued, they dropped down a basket and Rick climbed in.
At her friend’s house in Houston, Remy paced the floors. She watched the news and jumped any time the phone rang. Remy said, “I not sleep. My muscles would shake and I thought that I might not ever see my husband again.”
After he was rescued from his roof, Rick was transported to Lakeland Hospital, where he was deposited on the hospital’s rooftop. He was ushered into the second floor with 170 other people. It was now 10:30 on Wednesday morning. Rescue workers were tested to their limits and the people in the hospital had to wait to be evacuated. Rick said, “It was a long night. It was hot and you could not escape the human stench. People were sick and dying and there was no where to go.”
Finally, at 5:00 o’clock on Thursday night, Rick was flown to the New Orleans International Airport. He said, “I saw about three thousand people in the lobby, shoulder to shoulder. We had to wait in line to use the restroom and to get food - MREs. There were emergency generators for electricity. The toilets flushed but they were overwhelmed.”
Again, Rick endured another night in the city that care forgot. He slept on the floor with his towel as a pillow, ignoring the noise. “Everybody was agitated and no information went out to people. We didn’t have any idea what was going on or where we were going to go next. The Texas Border Patrol and police from other states patrolled the airport in groups.”
At 3:00 o’clock on Friday morning, he had managed to charge his cell phone but could not reach his family. The airport telephone worked and he used his phone card to call Remy's friend, Lillian Chua, in Port Arthur, Texas. Because people were pushing and shoving to use the phone, he only managed to leave a short message.
When Lillian heard the message, she was ecstatic. She immediately called Joe and Virginia Atabay's house in Houston, where Remy and the girls were staying. It was 7:30 on Friday morning. The girls were sleeping but Remy ran to the kitchen when she heard the phone ring. Lillian said, "Remy, guess what? Rick called and left a message on the answering machine. Do you want to listen?" Remy listened and cried as she heard her husband say, “Lillian, this is Rick. I just want to know where my family is. I will call you back in an hour.”
Rick managed to call Lillian back and was put in touch with his family. It was 8:45 on Friday morning when Remy spoke to her husband. It had been five harrowing days since their last contact. Remy said, “I can't explain how I felt when I heard his voice.” Remy cried tears of joy and relief.
On the airport phone, Rick broke the bad news to Remy, "We do not have a house anymore. We cannot go back. I am worried about Rachel's school. We lost everything." It was the very first time Remy ever heard Rick cry.
After Rick talked to Remy, he stood in line for two hours, waiting to board an evacuation plane. He was finally transported to San Antonio, arriving at Kellyfield Airforce Base on Friday night. Rick was taken to a shelter, where he relished his first shower in days.
Remy, Sarah, and Rachel drove an anxious three hours from Houston, elated at the thought of seeing Rick again. They met at the shelter and Rick held his family in a teary reunion embrace, saying, “Thank God I have my family.”
Rick Camania, a man who had come from the third-world country of the Philippines, had seen his fair share of difficulties. He immigrated to the United States, having to build a brand new life. His training in the U.S. Coast Guard provided him with amazing survival instincts. But even a resourceful man like Rick could not expect the turmoil Hurricane Katrina would cause.
Rick and his wife, Remy, bought a beautiful two-story house in the Lake Bullard subdivision of New Orleans East. For this humble Filipino family, it was a dream come true. Together, Rick and his wife built a beautiful life. Their 26-year old daughter, Sarah, worked at Delgado Community College and their 21-year old daughter, Rachel, attended Louisiana State University School of Nursing. Both girls, extremely close to their parents, still called the house on 5532 Stillwater Drive their home.
Like everyone else, they anxiously watched T.V. for news about Hurricane Katrina, who was churning in the Gulf of Mexico at a strong Category 3. The family finally made the decision to evacuate. At the last minute, Rick decided that he would stay with the house. He had been through many floods in the Philippines and he was sure he could weather this storm. Remy and his daughters begged, “Please come with us!” But Rick was resolute and stayed behind. He assured his family that if things looked bad, he would take the important documents and head to Mobile, Alabama. He never got that chance.
Remy, Sarah, and Rachel hugged Rick and reluctantly left him behind, heading west on Sunday morning at 6:00, evacuating with thousands of others, to Texas. As Remy and her daughters listened to the radio, the news worsened. Hurricane Katrina strengthened from a Category 3 to a 4 and finally to a 5, with winds wailing at a catastrophic 175 mph. Frantically, they called home and urged Rick to leave. He believed in the structural integrity of his house and reassured his wife and daughters that he was going to be okay.
Hurricane Katrina roared in at a strong Category 4 on Monday morning at 6:10. The storm, which took a last minute jog to the east, just missed a direct hit on downtown New Orleans, but devastated New Orleans East. By this time, Remy and the girls were in Houston. They lost phone contact with Rick and had no way of knowing how he was. Remy said, “I was nervous but trying to keep my cool. I prayed constantly.”
As the storm blew in, Remy watched the television, horrified. She saw her entire neighborhood under water. Remy and the girls kept trying to call Rick but could not get through.
Meanwhile, Rick’s Coast Guard training came in handy. His survival instincts kicked in and he remained calm. He weathered the storm and surveyed the damage to his home. Yes, the hurricane flooded his home knee-deep, but he had seen worse. He worked tirelessly, moving valuables, photo albums, and furniture he could salvage to the second floor. He believed that the waters would recede. It was nothing he couldn’t handle.
With the electricity out, he maneuvered around with old-fashioned candlelight. Rick said, “I was never scared. I knew the water would go down. I just wanted to talk to my wife and see how my family was doing.” He listened to his battery-powered radio and heard that the 17th Street Canal had “breached.” Rick said, “I didn’t know the meaning of that word so I didn’t worry about it.”
The water in the house began to rise, but only by about three inches. “I still wasn’t worried,” said Rick. He continued checking the flow of the water and it was very still. Though heat was sweltering, he even managed to catch a few hours of sleep on Tuesday night, stretching out on a sofa on the second floor. “It felt like a 103 degrees with no breeze.”
At around 3 o’clock Wednesday morning, Rick began to feel hungry. He had not eaten since before the storm blew in. Rick didn't get up because it was pitch black in the house. He had to wait for light to break to be able to see. But he could not go back to sleep. As he was lying down, he heard splashing and he knew it was fish jumping. He surmised that the lake waters had come inland because hurricane winds pushed the water in from the lake.
He waited until daybreak and he dipped his fingers in a can of corned beef. Rick said, “It was too salty and I decided that I needed some rice to go with it. So I went downstairs to the kitchen. That’s when I saw a big box floating. The water had risen to fifth step. I realized it was my refrigerator!” Rick, who is about 5 feet 7 inches tall, described the water as “belly-button high.” He waded barefoot through water and pried the heavy refrigerator door open. He retrieved the rice, which was still cold and unspoiled. Accompanied with bottled water, Rick ate a meal of corn beef and rice upstairs.
By 8:00 o’clock Wednesday morning, Rick heard the swishing of helicopter blades. He saw helicopters flying around but he said, “In my mind, I didn’t need to be rescued.” It wasn’t until he detected a funny odor that he felt alarmed; it was the smell of diesel and oil. Rick said, “I saw bubbles rising in the water in the house. I told myself, ‘This is not right anymore.’ So I began packing a school backpack with as many clothes as I could fit - two shirts, one pair of pants, and one pair shoes.”
He climbed out of his daughter’s bedroom window onto the breezeway that connected the house and the garage. He climbed to the top of the garage and began waving a white towel overhead, signaling at helicopters flying by. When he was finally rescued, they dropped down a basket and Rick climbed in.
At her friend’s house in Houston, Remy paced the floors. She watched the news and jumped any time the phone rang. Remy said, “I not sleep. My muscles would shake and I thought that I might not ever see my husband again.”
After he was rescued from his roof, Rick was transported to Lakeland Hospital, where he was deposited on the hospital’s rooftop. He was ushered into the second floor with 170 other people. It was now 10:30 on Wednesday morning. Rescue workers were tested to their limits and the people in the hospital had to wait to be evacuated. Rick said, “It was a long night. It was hot and you could not escape the human stench. People were sick and dying and there was no where to go.”
Finally, at 5:00 o’clock on Thursday night, Rick was flown to the New Orleans International Airport. He said, “I saw about three thousand people in the lobby, shoulder to shoulder. We had to wait in line to use the restroom and to get food - MREs. There were emergency generators for electricity. The toilets flushed but they were overwhelmed.”
Again, Rick endured another night in the city that care forgot. He slept on the floor with his towel as a pillow, ignoring the noise. “Everybody was agitated and no information went out to people. We didn’t have any idea what was going on or where we were going to go next. The Texas Border Patrol and police from other states patrolled the airport in groups.”
At 3:00 o’clock on Friday morning, he had managed to charge his cell phone but could not reach his family. The airport telephone worked and he used his phone card to call Remy's friend, Lillian Chua, in Port Arthur, Texas. Because people were pushing and shoving to use the phone, he only managed to leave a short message.
When Lillian heard the message, she was ecstatic. She immediately called Joe and Virginia Atabay's house in Houston, where Remy and the girls were staying. It was 7:30 on Friday morning. The girls were sleeping but Remy ran to the kitchen when she heard the phone ring. Lillian said, "Remy, guess what? Rick called and left a message on the answering machine. Do you want to listen?" Remy listened and cried as she heard her husband say, “Lillian, this is Rick. I just want to know where my family is. I will call you back in an hour.”
Rick managed to call Lillian back and was put in touch with his family. It was 8:45 on Friday morning when Remy spoke to her husband. It had been five harrowing days since their last contact. Remy said, “I can't explain how I felt when I heard his voice.” Remy cried tears of joy and relief.
On the airport phone, Rick broke the bad news to Remy, "We do not have a house anymore. We cannot go back. I am worried about Rachel's school. We lost everything." It was the very first time Remy ever heard Rick cry.
After Rick talked to Remy, he stood in line for two hours, waiting to board an evacuation plane. He was finally transported to San Antonio, arriving at Kellyfield Airforce Base on Friday night. Rick was taken to a shelter, where he relished his first shower in days.
Remy, Sarah, and Rachel drove an anxious three hours from Houston, elated at the thought of seeing Rick again. They met at the shelter and Rick held his family in a teary reunion embrace, saying, “Thank God I have my family.”
posted by Dianne de Las Casas @ 10:28 PM
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