In 2005, I lost my house to a hurricane.

The previous year, Hurricane Ivan was barreling towards New Orleans. My roommate Yann and I decided to tough it out. It completely missed us. All we got was a weird yellow glow in the atmosphere and an empty street for a week.

When Hurricane Katrina, I figured I'd be fine.

At 7:00 am in the morning, we had no food.

I didn't prepare.

My friends were asking what I was doing. They had one room left at a motel in Dallas. Typically an 8-hour car ride. I relented, grabbed my dog Jack, my computer, a backpack full of essentials, and got into my car.

It took us 18 hours to get to Dallas, but we made it.

For 3 months, I was lost.

There was a lack of information.

We didn't know when we would be able to go back into the city. For the first 2 weeks, we waited in the motel. The TV showed people stranded on their roofs. Makeshift signs for help. After that hurricane, everyone had a story.

I headed back to New Jersey to carve out my plan.

New Orleans dried out and we were let back in.

I refreshed Google Earth at least 4,378 times to see if my house was flooded from an aerial view.

When I saw the blue around my little rectangle, I knew that some things would be lost. That was the first time I needed an N95 mask to enter a building. Mold was everywhere. Water had climbed up the walls 3 feet.

My purple leather couch was a multi-colored rainbow of mold. All of my high school and college photos blended together like tie-dye t-shirts.

The only thing that magically survived? My acoustic guitar in its cloth case. I still can't explain how it escaped unscathed.

Memories can be lost forever

If I learned anything from that experience: 1) Protect your photos at all costs. Your memories are precious. And you can't always remember exactly how things were. 2) Life is a hurricane and you better get out of the way.