“Oak Street is open for businesses,” said Chiba owner Keith Dusko. “The 8300 block, anyway.”
As of the 1 a.m. Tuesday update from the National Hurricane Center, Isaac’s winds were still at 70 mph, just shy of hurricane force, and its path continued to center on New Orleans. Forecasters expected the winds to accelerate to hurricane speeds overnight, and for New Orleans to begin feeling its effects in earnest Tuesday morning.
Two brothers were tied up and robbed at gunpoint inside a Pitt Street home in the Riverbend on Monday night, police said.
Drivers or boaters going more than 5 mph on flooded streets will be issued tickets, NOPD officials said.
“We will enforce that with zero tolerance,” said NOPD Superintendent Ronal Serpas in a news conference Monday afternoon.
A 25-year-old man was gunned down around 10 a.m. Monday in the driveway of an apartment complex in the 3300 block of South Saratoga, police said.
Although considerable uncertainty remains in the National Hurricane Center forecast, New Orleans is now near the center of the possible paths for Isaac’s landfall Wednesday morning.
As I write this column, there’s a storm in the Gulf. The Tropical Storm that has us in its sights is named Isaac, after the Biblical figure on whom God ordered a hit vis-à-vis his father, Abraham, but then reneged at the last possible second because it was merely a test of faith.
Isaac, presumably, wandered away confused and rubber-legged.
Schools under the control of the Recovery School District and the Orleans Parish School Board will be closed Monday through Wednesday in anticipation of Tropical Storm Isaac, officials said.
Hurricane conditions are expected within the New Orleans metropolitan area and “preparations to protect life and property should be rushed to completion,” forecasters warned as their computer models show Isaac’s path drawing gradually nearer to the city.
The broad, uncertain path of Tropical Storm Isaac and its expected increase in intensity have prompted a hurricane watch that now includes the New Orleans area, according to the National Hurricane Center.
Big-budget superheroes, computer-animated cartoons and even a few family classics are among the selections for this fall’s “Movies in the Park” series in Uptown parks.
All of us have been watching the storm named Isaac as it bears down on Florida and possibly other parts of the Gulf South. It’s that time of year and, even though it appears so far we will not bear the brunt, such an event always makes us do a mental checklist of things available, where we’d go and all the myriad other things to face during hurricane season.
If conditions get tough enough, as they certainly did after Katrina and even after Hurricane Gustav a few years ago, a lot of folks won’t be able to immediately return to work. When this happens, part of the state’s response has been to make food stamps (the Louisiana Purchase card, it’s called these days) easily available to those who are temporarily without regular income. Such assistance was vital to so many in Katrina‘s aftermath, particularly those caught out on the road with few resources or a dwindling bank account.
Shortly after 9 a.m. Friday morning, Ted Argote returned home from dropping his wife at work, parked in front of his Panola Street home and, as he walked out the door, called out a greeting to the paisley-patterned python that has recently begun sunning itself every morning in the front yard.
“Good morning, Indiana!” Argote said, using a nickname picked in homage to Harrison Ford’s famously snake-averse archaeologist.
While the sudden appearance of the exotic jungle carpet python on Panola Street was odd, even odder still is the litany of wild animals appearing around Uptown of late, and residents’ largely nonchalant reaction to them. With a supposed boa constrictor on Burdette, parakeets in Palmer Park, a peacock on Cohn and a fashionable little kangaroo (or wallaby) spotted on upper Magazine Street, it has been hard to tell this week where the zoo stops and the neighborhoods begin.
I’m a part of a very unpopular, secret club where the members only speak amongst themselves in code and whispers. Stepping out as a whipping boy, I speak on behalf of the people that are too chicken to admit it: I’m not a football fan.