Record high temperature leaves Louisiana sagging another day

Staff writer

In the middle of the day in the middle of the week in the middle of perhaps the hottest summer in Louisiana history, Will Havelin sat in the cab of a bucket truck Wednesday morning, sweat dripping from his beard. Already it was 95 degrees, and even with the truck’s air conditioner blowing, his work clothes were plastered to his skin.

“It’s like I peed on myself before 11 o’clock,” he said.

Overhead in the bucket, a less fortunate co-worker without AC was lashing optical fiber to utility poles on Jefferson Highway in Old Jefferson, while Louisiana wilted anew under a tyrannical sun that threatened to break all-time records from Plain Dealing to Pointe-a-la-Hache.

State health officials say 25 Louisianans have died from the heat since May. Daily records for maximum temperature have fallen in several locations. Air quality alerts, a product of heat, sun, pollution and lack of wind, are becoming more common.

And a lingering drought only magnifies the distress. Near the Texas border, a Beauregard Parish wildfire has blackened 12,000 acres and was burning out of control toward the town of Merryville.

Without analysis, scientists are reluctant to attribute a specific phenomenon to climate change. But there is broad agreement that human-caused climate change produces more extreme weather.

New Orleans’ high temperature Wednesday was 102 degrees, matching the all-time record set on Aug. 22, 1980. It was the 13th 100-or-higher day of the year; until 2023, the New Orleans record was five days, in 1980.

A student uses an umbrella to shield herself from the sun while walking past sprinklers on the LSU campus in Baton Rouge on Wednesday, Aug. 23, 2023.

Baton Rouge topped out Wednesday at 105, against the historic maximum of 110 on Aug. 19, 1909. Baton Rouge has recorded 26 days this year of temperatures of 100 or higher; its record is 28 days.

Lafayette's high was 106, just shy of the 107-degree record set July 13, 1901.

The Shreveport maximum was 106; its highest was 110 degrees, on Aug. 18, 1909.

Why so hot? High air pressure in the atmosphere is inhibiting the formation of afternoon showers, which would normally cool the region. At same time, warm air is blowing in from the Gulf of Mexico, where sea surface temperatures are extremely high. Little immediate relief is in sight.

The National Weather Service predicts these highs every day through Sunday:

The blistering conditions have public health officials warning people to stay indoors or in the shade, wear a hat and light-colored clothing outside and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

“Lots of Gatorade, lots of water,” said Havelin, whose co-worker up in the bucket had only a flimsy electric fan to stir a breeze. “It don’t do nothing but blow hot air on you,” Havelin said, “but at least you can stick your face in it.”

Down Jefferson Highway a bit, Robert Serigny and Cesar Sousa, both seeping saline, landscaped a median divider on Lauricella Avenue. Serigny, 58, said they take a 15-minute break every hour to avoid flagging.

“In your 20s, you can do this standing on your head.” Sousa, 50, said of the work. At his age, however, “Your mind still thinks you’re 20, but your body tells you otherwise.”

“We hide in the truck, get the AC going,” he said.

The weather has forced adjustments all over the state. Cow pastures are turning to dust, so cattle ranchers are culling their herds. High school football teams that might otherwise start practice at 3:30 p.m. are delaying workouts to 5:30 p.m. or later, depending on the heat index, and even then might have to go without helmets and full pads so as to avoid cramps, swelling or worse.

At Riverdale High, coach Kyle Walker spent an hour mowing the yellowed grass of the practice field Wednesday morning then started consulting his weather and health alerts for the afternoon. The team would have 20 gallons of ice water ready for practice, he said, panting at about 10:45 a.m., when he cut short a quick interview as the temperature rose.

“My timer just went off,” he said, “I’ve got to go shower before my next class.”

Mark Schleifstein contributed to this article.

Email Drew Broach at [email protected].

When Aswanya Law got a call at work that a wildfire was rolling over the hills toward her Sabine Parish home, she didn’t believe it. When her …

Staff writer