Unforeseen? Of course it was Foreseen!

News Flash: According to the National Science Foundation, the Corps of Engineers, in 1986, did a test which produced the exact results described as "unforeseen" last week by the Corps-sponsered panel investigating the 17th Street Canal levee breach.

Referring to the government report which said the levee failure mechanism was not predictible, "...two University of California-Berkeley professors leading a 34-member National Science Foundation investigation into the levee failures said the 1986 corps research make those claims "unfortunate" and "inaccurate.", according to the Times Picayune story.

"Ray Seed and Bob Bea said the 20-year-old test, which included constructing floodwalls on existing levees and raising water levels to determine what pressures the walls could withstand, resulted in the same kind of collapse that toppled the 17th Street structures and flooded much of the city."

So just maybe it was their fault, after all.

Surprise: "It's Not Their Fault"

So, it's not their fault. The interim government report on the 17th Street levee failure finds that was not caused by failings by the Corps of Engineers. Instead, it was the result of "A unique combination of stresses that engineers could not have predicted" and "a mechanism that we didn't envision" according to Walter Baumy, the deputy director of the Corps task force rebuilding the levee system.

"I would say it's certainly going to come as a surprise to many people, if not most people," said Ed Link, University of Maryland professor and task force project director.


Well it's certainly a surprise to me! And what exactly is this unforeseen mechanism that doomed the 17th Street canal? According to the
Times Picayune story the report states:

"-- As water in the canal rose to 10 feet -- an
unprecedented but not unplanned height -- the pressure from
the water and wind-driven waves in the canal began to push, or
deflect, the concrete floodwall and its subsurface supporting
steel sheet piling away from the canal and toward
Lakeview.

"-- The deflection created space between the wall and
the levee on the canal side.

"-- Such flexing is expected by designers, as is a small
opening between the wall and the levee. But what happened in
this case, and was not expected, was the separation extended
the entire length of the sheetpile wall to 17.5 feet below sea
level. Water rushed into this opening quickly, creating a
channel separating the floodwall from the levee on the inside
of the canal and allowing high water pressure to travel
directly down to the soil layers beneath the wall.

"-- The final blow came when a layer of clay about 15
feet below sea level that extended beyond the toe of the levee
began slipping toward Lakeview, causing the levee to collapse
and the wall with it."

The levee was built on weak soil. The floodwall was not built to
the level of the bottom of the canal as is common engineering
practice. The floodwall tilted back from the pressure because it
wasn't deep enough & was not properly supported. The water
rushing in the opening washed out the clay behind the levee. The floodwall failed, inundating the city.

And it wasn't their fault.


Hurricane season starts in less than 3 months. I am so comforted
by this report.

So, how was it?

I've been asked about 50 times today, "Was if fun?", "So, how was it?", "Will you do it again?". The answers? "Absolutely!", "Unbelievable!", "Positively!"

This was, of course, an unusual year. Due to the circumstances, Zulu didn't do all of it's normal route, though it did start on Jackson, rather than Napoleon like all the other parades. Zulu ran down Jackson to St. Charles, then picked up the same route as all the other parades, ending downtown, rather than at the Home on Broad Street, as it usually does. That was more than compensated, though, by the second line we did from Loyola & Poydras, down Basin Street to Orleans, Broad, and to the Zulu Home around the corner.

What an experience! The Power of the Coconut can not be overstated -- and as you can see from the delighted swagger with which I taunted the crowd on Jackson Avenue, it took me no time at all to let it go to my head.

It was a wonderful tonic. Seeing the crowds -- and there were huge crowds -- and the enthusiasm, and the FEMA costumes -- blue roofs and high water lines were everywhere -- reassured me that our sense of humor is still alive. With all the challanges, with all the frustrations, with all the dissapointments, New Orleans is still the place I want to be.