Q&A with Cary Black

Excerpt from Katrina: A Freight Train Screamin'

In early January 2006, Cary Black was stranded at the Atlanta airport, waiting out a snowstorm until he could continue his trip home to Michigan. As he and his fellow passengers grouped together on Concourse C in anticipation of a long night, a young woman brought out a video she had received from a FEMA coworker depicting footage taken during the aftermath of Katrina. Stunned by the images, Black commented that someone needed to write a book about it. Three days later, the producer of the video contacted him by phone, and the rest is history.

Black's new book, Katrina: A Freight Train Screamin', is a new, inside look at the people who were there and the effect Katrina had, and continues to have, on their lives. The book is primarily dedicated to New Orleans Fire Department firefighter Captain Richard McCurley, who was killed on duty, as well as to New Orleans and St. Bernard Parish firefighters and the many other fire departments that responded from across the country. It will be available soon from Red Owl Publications.

You had never been to New Orleans. What was it about the video that touched you deeply enough to write about it?

I remember being completely captivated and amazed at those pictures, because they contrasted so much with how that event had been portrayed in the media in Michigan. We knew there was a hurricane and flooding, but that was pretty much the extent of our knowledge. When I saw the pictures, I was blown away. My comment that somebody should write a book was just a rhetorical statement. Then I got the call from the FEMA employee who made the video, telling me, "If you come to New Orleans, I'll show you the story and will take care of you." It sounded like an adventure, and I'm always one for adventure, so the following week I went there for the first time. I arrived there on January 22, almost 5 months after the storm, and the place was just destroyed. We drove all the way to the bottom of the delta--about 50 miles of unending destruction--and at that point, the 4-1/2-year project was born.

What was the reaction from responders and citizens when you asked them to tell you their stories? Did you get good cooperation?

Most certainly not at first. Their attitude was, "Who is this Yankee coming down here trying to benefit from our grief?" There was a lot of resistance, but I'm pretty tenacious and I had an objective. I'd gain the trust of one person, who would lead me to another. The hallmark was gaining the complete trust of the New Orleans Fire Department and the family of Captain McCurley. Just within the last 6 months I've had a huge outpouring from citizens in the communities of St. Bernard Parish on the Mississippi Gulf Coast wanting to tell their stories. I never anticipated this level of intensity. When I talked to them, I really wanted to capture their innermost feelings, and in order to do that, I almost had to pull their emotion inside myself. There were a few times when I almost quit the project because I was so emotionally overcome.

One of the most difficult experiences for many writers is finding a publishing company, but you had already jumped that hurdle by forming your own. Tell us about that.

About 4 years before I started this project I wrote a book called Zen and the Art of Cooking Beer Can Chicken--a fun little book with a humorous aspect to it, so I formed Red Owl Publications to sell my cookbook. Many of my trips to New Orleans were paid for with resources from cookbook sales. The whole project has been a series of serendipitous events that all fell into place perfectly. The manufacturing company I work for full time created a fairly long-term partnership with a company in New Orleans that required me to come there quite often. So, I'd take care of business and try to overlap a weekend to give me time to talk to folks. The way this whole thing came about and the ease with which everything has progressed has been almost like it was my destiny. It's like Noah building an ark for the animals--I had the same type of calling.