I was up until after 1:00 AM making sure my people got indoors and then back up at 6:00 AM to see the state of affairs in Atlanta. It was grim. I peered through the blinds out the back window of my apartment to brake lights spotting the still dark highway.
At 10:30 AM I put on two pairs of pants, three shirts, socks and boots, and coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, and went for a one mile walk. I walked in the opposite direction of my abandoned car. Today is focused on getting those still stuck back home. Tomorrow is to remove the thousands of abandoned cars – some more than five miles from where their driver laid their head last night.
These pictures were taken between 11:00 AM and 12:30 PM, January 29, 2014.
The back yard looks beautiful, like a picture – because I totally prefer to see snow in pictures and not my backyard. The trees and the hill hide the disaster that lays just behind.
I walked up this hill in high heel boots last night. I will check myself next time I think about complaining about dragging two kids’ bikes up that hill.
Last night’s footsteps and this morning’s footsteps. I feared a smashed skull slightly less in the proper footwear.
From where I would have parked my car could I have parked my car anywhere other than the sidewalk a half a mile from my house, and between the trees and the poles, you can see the line of cars still trapped on the interstate.
Even if I had the gumption to try to get my car out today, it’s not likely I would make it through the mess of cars on the road and in the entrance to my apartment community. My car is around the corner at the top of that hill. There are about fifty abandoned cars and a thick sheet of ice between mine and home.
I took this picture because holy mother of dumb. For crying out loud, dude. The tow truck in the grass, not the car against the curb – that was actually smart, even if it was an accident. It took the tow truck ten minutes to get back out, and then got stuck again on the ice. I helped some people, but I didn’t help him. He had help, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
These guys were getting cars out, or turned around and back up the hill and out to the main road. They dragged pieces of carpet from car to car, and when I returned from my walk to the light of day and back, they were moving the last of everyone who was still sitting in their car.
Normally this would get you killed. Normally being the key word. After I took this picture I waved to the two men, and the one standing on the wall waved back and took my picture. Together we each snapped witness to our witnessing the leftovers from our very own end-of-days drill.
Just beyond is one small section of the parking lot that the interstate still is.
Along the way, I met a National Guardsman patrolling the street, offering his help, and eyeing abandoned cars vulnerable to break-in and theft. At least I think he was National Guard. He wasn’t too chatty, but not rude about it, so I snapped a picture of his uniformed butt and went on my way.
At my turn-around point, the roads were still closed. It was as good a place as any to turn around anyway. I already knew everything I needed to know.
This is just my tiny little corner of Atlanta. This will go down in history. If you’re an Atlantan, I hope you are indoors.