Nice hat. Pale summer suit. Elegant gentleman of a certain age. Stunned, disoriented.
"I guess the restaurants and cafes are all closed?"
"Yes, and we will only be open until our boss says we can go. Then we are out of here, too."
Emphatic answer from the harried young woman checking out the long lines at a Hudson's in Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport late afternoon on Saturday August 30, 2009. Mandatory evacuation due to Hurricane Gustav began at 8 AM the next morning.
"My flight is not until tomorrow morning." the man said.
He stood still, apparently slow to realize that he would have nothing more than newsstand snacks to eat all night, and that he had better hurry up and purchase those before the shop shut down. A woman hugged close a newly purchased travel blanket.
"My flight is not until 6 AM, and it is pretty cold in there."
At that time, 6 AM was the time of the last flight scheduled out. More were later added.
We were lucky. In a way. Our flight had been booked for weeks-for 5:45 PM that night. Like these people, we got to the airport early, fearful that traffic exiting the city would slow down the ride to the airport for hours. Did not want to miss that flight. Could end up sleeping in a gymnasium in Memphis or God knows where.
We would not have been in that city except for those flights.
We arrived in New Orleans the previous Wednesday. We had spent some family time on the Texas Gulf coast and thought we would polish it off with few days in New Orleans.
Drove along the Gulf Coast. Found sensational barbecue and other foods at Willy Ray's in Beaumont. Which city, as I write this, is evacuated and getting perhaps worse storm effects than New Orleans. Would not have predicted that when I was tucking into my deer sausage and carrot souffle.
Worried, all this trip, about Gustav. Were we driving right into a mess? What about our non-refundable flights? Most important, what about my 88-year-old Dad, who lives alone with no nearby kinfolks? If Gustav veered west, it would head for his coastal town.
Got to our hotel, the St. James in New Orleans and the young fellow who (needlessly) helped us up with our bags was talking about Gustav.
"They say it is going to totally miss Texas.

"
I was jubilant, but tried not to show it. It apparently could still hit New Orleans.
"I am getting out," says the kid. "New Orleans can't take it again."
He's leaving already?
The news still seemed uncertain. We went out and grabbed some local beer and jambalaya.
Next morning the news was more serious, but still no evacuation. Gustav could go any which way.
My husband went downstairs to figure how to get the wireless Internet working. There was a surcharge for it but no signal.
"You're not staying here tonight, are you?" asked the young woman at the desk. "I'm leaving."
These people were understandably freaked out. I wanted to ask them what they had been through with Katrina but hesitated. It's like asking what somebody did in a war.
The news was scary enough that my husband booked a B&B inland and a rental car. So much for three nights in New Orleans. Better safe than sorry.
First we had breakfast at The Coffee Pot, a great French Quarter brunch place. Coming out of the ladies' I encountered a guy who seemed a little tipsy and a little affected.
"This building is amazing," he said, looking all around. "It's like something out of the antebellum south."
It IS something out of the antebellum south, you idiot, I thought, but I had did not say it. I just envied his ability to enjoy a Bloody Mary while a hurricane headed for him.
No Mary for breakfast for me, not with a four hour drive ahead.
The guy was at a large table of jolly types. I later leaned there was a large gay convention that weekend-Southern Decadence. That is the one that wacko Pastor John Hagee said caused Katrina.
"Hurricane Katrina was, in fact, the judgment of God against the city of New Orleans," Hagee said.
"New Orleans had a level of sin that was offensive to God," Hagee said, because "there was to be a homosexual parade there on the Monday that the Katrina came."
And here we are again, another gay parade, another hurricane. I wondered what had happened in the last couple of years. I think they had their "Decadence" without interference. John McCain, by the way, only rejected Hagee's endorsement when he found out Hagee also said the Holocaust was God's will.
We polished off our yummy Eggs Sardou and quickly went through The Cabildo Museum.
Among other things, we saw a death mask of Napoleon and learned that traditionally, those that could afford it left the city in the summer because disease was so rampant that thousands died every year.
The guy who drove us to the rental car place said he had a car booked for himself Sunday. He said he did not worry about Gustav.
"It's Labor Day, you just put down a barbecue grill anywhere you are. I don't need no motel, anything like that."
Last thing before we got our car, the woman checking us out says, "You have to return it in Louisiana."
"We HOPE that is no problem," we said.
She laughed nervously. We were headed to Mississippi. If they closed the airport in New Orleans, we did not intend to come back.
We took a stroll through the Garden District. Renovations being done by people who appeared to be Mexican. What if they are undocumented? What happens to them in a hurricane? They will never trust the government buses. And what will they do in a new city with no rights and no work?
That night we drove to a beautiful old town I hope to return to, Natchez, Mississippi.