I see the devastaton of Katrina on New Orleans and am reminded of being trapped there on September 11, 2001. And much as there is little similarity between the two events – save for incredible amounts of death and destruction happening hundreds of miles away and feeling like a part of my innocence is being ripped out of my soul – I still feel very much the same.

A friend of mine has a job in New Orleans. Fortunately, he came back to D.C. last weekend, but he is unable to go back and get his things. The irony is that he is quitting said job because it keeps him too far from home.

The son of other friends of mine is still in New Orleans. My friends assure me that he is fine, but has lost everything: his house (which he spent the past year renovating), his truck, and his tools (which are his livelihood). He’s sure to get back on his feet, but still – it’s tough not to feel pain for him and his parents.

And then there are the others: the people who are trapped in their houses. The pets who were left behind in the chaos. The fact that entire cities across the Gulf coast were reduced to rubble.

It’s sickening. It’s sobering. And I want them to know that I’m keeping them all in my thoughts.