| Jim Seida / msnbc.com
Corey Qualls hands Chris Algero the nozzle after filling up his tank in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. At left is Algero's son, Chris. Jr.
While nearly all Gulf Coast residents in the path of Hurricane Gustav heeded warnings to leave, many were not waiting Tuesday for authorities to give them permission to return. But for many, that meant persistence in the face of repeated rejection.
Chris Algero of New Orleans was gassing up his car in Bay St. Louis and preparing to make his third attempt to return to his home. He said he’d already been turned back at Interstate 10 and U.S. Highway 90, in the first instance forced by barricades to turn around and in the second refused entry by sympathetic but unbending Louisiana state troopers.
“It’s frustrating,” said the 42-year-old veterinarian. “I did a lot of rescue work after Katrina, both of people and pets. They need to let in the people who can help.”
Algero, who rode the storm out at his mother’s house in Bay St. Louis with his son, Chris Jr., and a friend, Corey Qualls, said it was particularly aggravating to be on the outside looking in because he had spoken to some of his neighbors in uptown New Orleans and heard that “if you’re in the city, you’re able to move around fine.”
With a full tank of gas, Algero was preparing to make his third bid to return, this time by heading west to Interstate 12 and then either heading south on Interstate 55 or continuing on almost to Baton Rouge and then approaching the city on Interstate 10 from the west.
“After Katrina, we were able to move back and forth at will,” he said. “This time they’re trying to keep a lid on everything.”
He also said he thought some authorities might be using scare tactics to keep people from trying to return. For example, he said that while he had heard officials of St. Tammany Parish warn that 90 percent of the parish was without electricity. But when he drove into the parish earlier on the freeway, all the businesses he could see had their signs lit even though they were closed.
“I guess that the 10 percent with power was all along the freeway,” he said sarcastically.
by Contessa Brewer, MSNBC anchor and correspondent
I just left New Orleans, drove across Lake Ponchartrain on I-10. The traffic on the freeway was very light, until we hit the other side of the lake. There, authorities had established a checkpoint and all inbound traffic was being diverted off the interstate. It appeared only authorized vehicles were being allowed through. The officials want evacuees to wait for the all-clear before heading home.
I'm also seeing work trucks heading toward New Orleans, crews prepared to assist in the clean-up and repair.
The damage I'm seeing on my way out of town is minor: Trees down. Siding ripped off apartment buildings. Signs littering the roadside.
I'm also seeing a slew of cars parked on the side of the freeway in rural areas. Presumably, these were people who'd joined the mass exodus before Gustav, but had mechanical problems and were forced to abandon their vehicles.
So I'm saying goodbye to New Orleans and Gustav, and hello to Hanna... heading East for more storm coverage. CONTINUED >>
By Jeff Ranieri, NBC Meteorologist
I've had a lot of people ask me why did Gustav not strengthen, so I figured I would share my insight. Below are some notes from my meteorology notebook.
The short answer is tied to three main factors:
1) Dry air filtered into the bottom of the system;
2) Wind shear kept the eye wall from redeveloping and tightly wrapping the storm;
3) Speed also was a major factor. Ever since the storm left Cuba, it cruised along at 15-20 mph. Even though it moved over 90 degree water (which typically helps hurricanes strengthen) Gustav's high velocity kept it from developing into an even more deadly hurricane. CONTINUED >>
By Jim Seida and Mike Brunker, msnbc.com
The French Quarter after dark, the night after Hurricane Gustav crashed ashore. Neon signs beckon to departed tourists. Empty but stirring. A handful of bars open, several of them packed with locals and reporters. Police cruisers splash past in heavy rain, blue lights flashing on near deserted streets as the raindrops play Lee Young on the sidewalk. A curfew is not a curfew.
By early afternoon on Monday, relatively minor gusts were ruffling the palm trees along Canal Street and the rain had stopped. Forecasters said more of both were likely as the storm slid past to the west, but nothing like the intense winds and rain that pounded the city overnight. CONTINUED >>
By John Brecher, msnbc.com photojournalist
A delegate from the Texas Gulf Coast talks about the subdued mood of the Republican National Convention in light of Hurricane Gustav.
By Mike Brunker and Jim Seida, msnbc.com
Chasing reports of runaway barges or Navy ships, we drove north to the Florida Avenue Bridge over the Industrial Canal.
The lift bridge was in the up position, so we couldn’t get an elevated view of this section of the canal. From our vantage point on Harbor Road, peering over the concrete floodwall, there was no sign of the vessels.
The only sign of a possible accident in the area was the strong smell of gasoline and the rainbow sheen of oil visible on the surface of the water in spots where it pooled after overtopping the floodwall.
A worker at what appeared to be a utility plant adjacent to the road pantomimed over the roar of the storm that he knew nothing about any runaway vessels. At least that’s what I think he was saying.
| 
