October 1969-The U.S. Ship John B. Warden steamed out of the Gulf of Mexico and into the Mississippi River headed for the port of New Orleans. It was a freighter contracted to carry American Servicemen's cars to Europe. In one of the staterooms to the rear of the ship, young John Harold Vance was packing his duffle bag. In just a few hours his first trip across the Atlantic would be over. Just a few months earlier, Johnny, as his friends called him, talked his step-mother into going to New Orleans and signing off to get him into seamen's school. They didn't get along anyway and were glad to get rid of each other. Johnny despised his father too.
Seamen's school turned out not to be a school at all. It was the Seamen's Union Hall down on Jackson Avenue, in the Irish Channel, just a few blocks from the Mississippi River and the Gretna Ferry. Johnny worked in the Union Hall for 42 days doing everything from janitorial work to helping in the galley. His stipend was $7 a week and a carton of cigarettes, which he had to pay back on his first payday as a seaman. He also got room and board. There was a 20 man dormitory upstairs where he and the other kids lived. The Hall had a galley and dining room where seamen waiting to get out on ships could eat for cheap. A plate of red beans and rice went for 40 cents. There were vending machines in the dining room that sold Dixie beer. A bar was just down the street that was very lax about checking I.D's. Johnny and the other kids would sneak down some nights for a beer or two. A ten ounce can of Schlitz went for twenty-five cents. Some nights they would go down to Bourbon Street. There were a couple of bars there where, if a kid had the money, there was no problem getting a beer. But most evenings they spent in the dormitory talking, reading, or playing blackjack for a nickel a hand. All the while drinking stolen Dixie beer.
One day the Port Director called Johnny into his office. "Look, Vance, you've probably heard we've got a hurricane blowin' in. The Irish Channel is nine feet below sea level. If the storm comes over the top of us we're going to be ass deep in water! But we've got a three-story secure building here. If anything happens this building will be used as a shelter." He handed Johnny some money and a shopping list. "Go down to the supermarket and pick up as much of this stuff as possible." When Johnny got to the supermarket the lines went down one aisle and up the other. "Damn" he muttered. "This is going to take awhile." Four hours later he got back to the Union Hall.
It was Camille, a small and compact, but super deadly hurricane. When it was finally determined that the eye would go over Gulfport/Biloxi, seamen and their families that lived on the Mississippi Coast flooded into New Orleans and into the Union Hall. The building was packed with families lounging and sleeping on the floors. The edge of the hurricane skated over New Orleans with winds topping out at ninety miles per hour. Johnny and another kid they called Tarzan ran down Jackson Avenue clinging to the sides of the buildings, then up onto the levee to get a look at the Mississippi River. there were three foot waves. A flying piece of plywood barely missed Johnny. "I'm outta here" he shouted. He and Tarzan ran down the levee and back along the sides of the buildings to the safety of the Union Hall.
to be continued....
