
A few years ago when a hurricane threatened the low-sitting city of New Orleans, La., it focused local leaders on the vulnerability of their collection in the New Orleans Public Library of two and a half centuries of public and vital records.
As a result, the Genealogical Society of Utah was given permission to film, and thus preserve, the records. A veteran camera . . .
As a result, the Genealogical Society of Utah was given permission to film, and thus preserve, the records. A veteran camera . . .
operator, Charles Banz, was assigned to complete the extensive project. Living in nearby Denham Springs, La., while filming in Baton Rouge, he began also working in New Orleans. He was given a space in the building's second lower level, amid rows and rows of records of births, deaths, marriages and public functions, some of these dating back to 1769.
In late August 2005 when another hurricane (this one named Katrina) threatened, Brother Banz stayed at his Denham Springs home to wait out the Category 4 storm. All of his camera equipment and supplies, however, remained at the library along with the fragile, centuries-old paper records.
The Aug. 29 hurricane damaged roofs, but the worst of it missed the city as well as Denham Springs. Shortly afterwards, however, a hurricane-weakened the levee along Canal Street and gave way. Adjacent Lake Pontchartrain, the 630-square-mile salt water lake — second only in size in the United States to the Great Salt Lake — flooded most of the city in up to 20 feet of water. Located near the Superdome, the New Orleans Public Library was thought to be inundated.
Brother Banz did not know for almost three weeks what had become of his project and the vital records. He studied aerial photos of the building, talked to state archivists, and stayed glued to the television. All indications suggested utter destruction of his camera equipment and the records. Finally, he received word from New Orleans archivists that they had been allowed into the building. They had checked his project and found most of the library, including the second lower level, to be dry and sound. Building engineers said the waters rose to within about 2 inches of entering the library. Other archivists could hardly believe it. Some even called it a miracle.
Today, Brother Banz is continuing the work of retaining in records the memory of the early people of New Orleans. -- John L. Hart, LDS Church News
In late August 2005 when another hurricane (this one named Katrina) threatened, Brother Banz stayed at his Denham Springs home to wait out the Category 4 storm. All of his camera equipment and supplies, however, remained at the library along with the fragile, centuries-old paper records.
The Aug. 29 hurricane damaged roofs, but the worst of it missed the city as well as Denham Springs. Shortly afterwards, however, a hurricane-weakened the levee along Canal Street and gave way. Adjacent Lake Pontchartrain, the 630-square-mile salt water lake — second only in size in the United States to the Great Salt Lake — flooded most of the city in up to 20 feet of water. Located near the Superdome, the New Orleans Public Library was thought to be inundated.
Brother Banz did not know for almost three weeks what had become of his project and the vital records. He studied aerial photos of the building, talked to state archivists, and stayed glued to the television. All indications suggested utter destruction of his camera equipment and the records. Finally, he received word from New Orleans archivists that they had been allowed into the building. They had checked his project and found most of the library, including the second lower level, to be dry and sound. Building engineers said the waters rose to within about 2 inches of entering the library. Other archivists could hardly believe it. Some even called it a miracle.
Today, Brother Banz is continuing the work of retaining in records the memory of the early people of New Orleans. -- John L. Hart, LDS Church News