Graduation from Louisiana State University New Orleans

Marc and I

Assembly Hall

Me growling before ceremony

Me crossing stage at precommencement

The New Orleans Blue Dog, FEMA, and that famous phrase from Mardi Gras - this artist is a genious

My most trusted advisors - Ben in front having already done his work in the past and Carol behind me to advise me for life

Steve and I with our diplomas - we were a good team

My proud mom

Me, mom and Mike

Ben prepping me

More Ben prep

David and I

Ben looks excited during the ceremony

Graduating medical student section


On Friday morning, I had a feeling that it was not going to be a picture perfect weekend. On my subway ride to Penn Station, as I was exiting the subway car, a woman behind me got her bag entangled in mine and gave me a dirty look. Was my karma bad? I made it to Newark Airport uneventfully and I even helped a man carry his suitcases onto the airtrain. Maybe things would be ok.

It began to rain. Then the thunder. Heaven was punishing me for something. Rain and thunder mean one thing in Newark – break time for the ground people, which means every flight will be delayed. The hope to be able to catch our connecting flight withered. The announcement boomed over the loudspeaker.

“The plane for your flight is still in Columbus, OH. The crew is Detroit.” This was announced around the time of the estimated departure time of our flight. We knew this option would not carry us to New Orleans tonight. So it began. We tried all possible options. In total, we waited in the Continental customer service line twice x 20 minutes each time, we called Continental airlines 800 number, we called Northwest 800 number because they were the shared airline on this itinerary, and we spoke to many Continental representatives at the various gates.

Our plan was to take the flight to Houston instead of Memphis, then to fly to Baton Rouge instead of New Orleans. This would have worked had the Houston flight not also been delayed.
The last words we heard before departing Newark airport were “we have sent a mass message ahead of this flight to all of the connecting flights. Hopefully some of you will still be able to catch your connections.” Lies. I don’t believe anyone on our flight caught their connection.

So we were stuck in Houston Bush airport and our bag, containing all of our clothes and my hygiene products, was not there. Carol and I got on the horn. Altogether we made and cancelled 4 Hertz rental car reservations. We convinced Steve and Raven to take my mom and my brother to the graduation the next day, since my mom and brother were already at the Bienville House hotel in New Orleans. Ben decided to stay in a hotel in Baton Rouge and make himself available to pick us up at the airport in Baton Rouge the next day. I called the class coordinator, Bobbie, at 130A, who thankfully was still awake, to whom I explained the uncertainty of our current situation. We made a backup plan of how to sneak me in should I arrive late.

As a consolation prize for not finding our bag, the Continental baggage claim rep gave us each 1 blanket and 1 pillow, which were sized for 6 year old children. We had the choice of either covering our legs or torso, but not both. Our sleep was rather disjointed. For the first 2 hours we slept on the ground next to the airtrain, which was not running. Then we were loudly awoken to the sound of a horn and a loudspeaker announcing “you are now at Terminal C.” We half-heartedly carried our belongings upstairs and slept on top of a luggage carousel. 2 hours later we were awoken by the gyrating of luggage arrival. At this point, we gave up the issue of sleep and went through the security checkpoint into the gating areas.

So to recap, everyone involved pretty much got screwed Friday night. My mom and my brother were waiting for us in New Orleans and my mom had already paid for a room which would go unused for the night. Ben had driven in from Shreveport and he got stuck in Baton Rouge, paying for a night at the Hilton. Steve and Raven had to go out of their way to bring my family to Baton Rouge and me a tie, shirt and shoes. I didn’t have my clothes and hygiene products. Carol didn’t get enough sleep. Not exactly what I had planned for my graduation weekend and my most likely last visit to Louisiana.

Saturday began with 2 McCreams, 2 McSugars, and a McD coffee for breakfast with there still being no sign of our bag by either continental or northwest. I went to a newsstand and purchased 1 painful razor, gilette shaving cream, and lady speed stick. A conversation with the saleswoman ensued discussing how men always forget their deodorant at airports then buy all the deodorant then the other men who come later have to buy women’s deodorant “just to keep them dry.”

We made the flight to Baton Rouge separated because there was only 1 seat on the flight that would allow me to arrive on time. My flight almost had issues because my backpack wouldn’t fit and I had to violently punch it in as I slid the small storage compartment closed. Then another guy came over with the same seat assignment as me and I had to give up my boarding pass while they sorted things out. Carol walked into precommencement late with Ben but was still able to find Raven and my family.

Backstage before the ceremony was a flux of activity. There were many good bye conversations although it didn’t look like anyone was really crying. I made my rounds and spoke with many of my classmates. We didn’t seem to talk about much but we did talk and in our way showed each other that we still cared.

You would think with the trials we endured to arrive at the ceremony it would be quite impressive. The bird who kept taking nose dives in front of the stage was impressed. The ceremony to me was quite long, actually from 12PM until 730PM and boring. What made it worse was that there was no air conditioning and we were all wearing hot gowns and trying to stay awake during the religious overtone of the droning of the stage speakers and watching others collect awards which I didn’t win.

In our seats the students did anything we could to stay awake. We made jokes, comments, and mostly bitched about how long everything was taking. At one point I had a conversation about emergency medicine and procedures with a guy who matched into LSU New Orleans.

One part that caught my attention was during the class president’s speech. He was announcing the teaching awards and prefaced one award by saying “It’s easy to say nice things about people and not mean it….” To me this represented the southern way, very friendly in person but not always loyal when you are gone.

During the procession of medical students receiving their MD degrees, it was most insightful to watch them as they returned to their seats. Everyone’s eyes told a different tale. A wide spectrum of human emotion displayed itself with such examples as happiness, sadness, seriousness, joyfulness, peacefulness, pride, passion, and being on the brink of bawling tears. I wonder how people read me? When I was back in my seat, I kept looking at the diploma, hardly believing that it was finally real. That I was now a graduate of medical school and a great future was ahead of me.

We began our drive to New Orleans around 8P. Our first stop was the airport and fortunately they had our bag. We swung by Hana’s Sushi and bought way to much sushi to eat at Audobon Park where we married. Carol and I stood on our stage once again and said “I will.” It was very peaceful at the park with the ducks.

Next we figured we would call our hotel and let them know we were on the way. The lady was a total bitch and said she had never received our previous 5 calls and that our room was gone so we quickly drove in the direction of the Bienville House. The traffic was insane because all the universities were graduating students and the election, in which Nagin won as mayor, had taken place this day. When we pulled into the parking lot, Ben was told he had to drive away even though we were guests and Carol and I went inside with my mom to sort out the mess.

The hotel’s story is that someone else also called last night from Houston, had also missed a flight and had somehow arrived before us and now had our room. Lies. This lady was not reputable. So even though we had paid for it, they gave away our double bed room. After much dispute we were given a room with a king size bed, much smaller than the original room and directly across from the loud neighborhood of the fire department on Decatur with a view of the firemen. They also had given away the room from Friday night and did not want to refund the money even though someone else had stayed in and paid for that room.

After securing the room we called Ben and Mike to find out where they were and to let them know we had parking for them. They had no clue where they were and they couldn’t read the street signs. Finally we figured out they were on Canal and trying to return to North Peters. Carol and I caught up to them but a little late. Ben had already been given a ticket for making an illegal left. We all made it to the parking garage and had to make sure we tipped the attendant well because he got Ben’s keys to park the car.

We returned to the hotel and Carol and I each took a much needed shower. Then we hit the town and walked down Bourbon which was much how I remembered it back in the day with its lively crowd tonight. Marilyn met us at the Jean Lafitte Blacksmith bar and entertained us for a while. She offered Ben a place to stay in New Orleans should he choose to move there. She was a blast from the past and a remembrance that at one time I was an undergrad and a big party man. Apparently I have always been a good teacher because she fondly remembered our German study sessions with Ben.

Frenchmen street typified New Orleans. Many places were open, some new, some old, but nothing was as full as it once was. We relived some old memories and returned to the hotel. Our wake up call occurred when housekeeping opened the door in the morning and said “oh.. I thought you were gone already.”

Café du Monde made a nice breakfast place with its famous beignets and brought back memories of the powdered sugar fight Carol and I had so long ago. After Mike and my mom left, we strolled the quarter then relaxed by the pool in our hotel. We had our taxi take us to the airport, via Hana’s Sushi, so we could have one more taste of the best sushi we know. This also turned into a tour of the destruction of New Orleans and a showcase of the FEMA symbols on many doors.

We thought we were fine once we arrived at Newark airport. One more obstacle. The luggage was not coming out onto the carousel. A worker had to come out and go into the luggage area and fix things. Finally we got our bag and headed for the taxi stand.

This was it. As far as we know we will never see Louisiana again. We have closed the book on that chapter in our history. Carol will never again live in anything less a metropolis with advertising opportunities. I am finally a medical doctor. My name will from now on be a little longer – Henry A. Curtis, IV, MD.