NEW ORLEANS — As he walked along Decatur Street in the French Quarter yesterday, Aaron Watson couldn't help scanning his surroundings for signs of the devastating hurricane and subsequent flood that two years ago rendered the historic district a ghost town.

While the Quarter was spared the complete destruction that befell many residential areas of New Orleans, Watson easily spotted the high-water marks on buildings, and it was in these moments when his mind flashed back to the image of his family huddling in the kitchen as screaming winds shook the walls and shattered the windows.

Watson, the father of University of Hawai'i players Keala and Keahi Watson, was safe at home some 3,000 miles away when Katrina ravaged Louisiana in September 2005, but like many UH fans who have converged on New Orleans for today's Sugar Bowl, he vividly remembers how Hurricane Iniki swept through Kaua'i and the Wai'anae Coast in September 1992 and what it took to bounce back.

"What happened here is similar to what we went through," Watson said. "I feel for (the people of New Orleans) because we had to go through the rebuilding, too."

The Watsons' home was still relatively new and it survived Iniki without any significant structural damage. However, debris from neighboring homes crashed into the house as the winds picked up.

"We were all in the kitchen, but when the eye passed over, that area ended up taking the brunt when the winds started coming the other way," Watson said. "So, we went into the hallway and waited it out. I remember glass shattering and debris flying around. It was scary."

Watson acknowledged that the destruction suffered by New Orleans was more extensive, in large part because of the massive flooding that occurred when the dam system failed. And knowing what he does about how long it took Kaua'i to recover from Iniki — both economically and spiritually — he said he sympathizes with what New Orleanians have endured and will continue to endure.

"It took us a long time to bounce back," he said. "When I was watching what was happening on TV, I felt sorry for them because we had gone through it. Knowing what they could expect, I really felt for them."

Wes Taba, also from Kaua'i, was attending college in Michigan when a professor told him that Iniki was about to hit Kaua'i. Later, his mother called.

"She said the hurricane is going to hit so you might not hear from us for a while," Taba recalled. "I was kind of (concerned), but I knew they had gone through it before."

Like Watson, Taba said he sympathizes with what New Orleans has been through.

"I remember what it was like having no electricity and having to go to the water truck for water," he said.

David Paris, a taxi driver who has lived in New Orleans all his life, said several Hawai'i fares have asked him about Katrina and have offered their own stories of what Hurricanes Iniki and Iwa (1982) were like.

"I think there's a sympathy and a bond when you've been through the same things," Paris said. "People from Georgia and Florida understand it, too, but Hawai'i folks actually go out of their way to reach out to you and tell you. We all understand because we're people of the hurricane."

Despite the hard-partying atmosphere of bowl season and the impending start of Mardi Gras, the specter of Katrina lingers in every corner of the city. For many long-time residents, history is now divided into pre- and post-Katrina perspectives. While much of Downtown New Orleans seems healthy and primed for business, locals say it's just not the same — and may never be again.

"You can rebuild but what comes up new can't really replace what was there before," Paris said. "There are people here who survived Katrina but came out of the whole thing just a little bit different, too."

Even in the city's musical hot spots, Katrina's presence is inescapable.

At the Blues Club on Bourbon Street, the house band plays a song called "Katrina Blues" as it passes around its collection tin. On the corner of Royal and Iberville earlier this week, a street musician sang a version of Stevie Ray Vaughan's "Texas Flood" with lyrics adapted for New Orleans: "It's flooding down in New Orleans, all of the telephone lines are down ... "

Reach Michael Tsai at mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.

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