In the Superdome: A two-year-old girl slept in a pool of urine. Crack vials littered the toilets. The walls next to vending machines, which had been smashed by teenagers, were bloodstained.
The Louisiana Superdome, once a mighty testament to architecture and ingenuity, became the biggest storm shelter in New Orleans the day before Katrina's arrival on Monday. About 16,000 people eventually settled in. By yesterday it had degenerated into unspeakable horror.
A few hundred were evacuated from the arena on Wednesday, and buses were due to take away the remaining people yesterday but evacuation was suspended after someone fired at a military helicopter sent to ferry out survivors. A national guard official said as many as 60,000 people had gathered at the stadium for evacuation.
"We pee on the floor. We are like animals," said Taffany Smith (25), as she cradled her three-week-old son, Terry.
In her right hand she carried a half-full bottle of formula provided by rescuers. Baby supplies are running low; one mother said she was given two nappies and told to scrape them off when they got dirty and use them again.
At least two people, including a child, have been raped as the arena darkened at night. At least three people have died, including one man who jumped 50 feet to his death, saying he had nothing left to live for.
The hurricane left most of southern Louisiana without power, and the arena was not spared.
The airconditioning failed immediately, and a swampy heat filled the Superdome.
An emergency generator kept some lights on but quickly failed. Engineers have worked feverishly to keep a back-up generator running, at one point swimming under the floodwater to knock a hole in the wall to install a new diesel fuel line. But the back-up generator, too, is faltering and is almost entirely submerged.
There is no sanitation. The stench is overwhelming. The city's water supply gave out early on Wednesday. Toilets stopped working and began to overflow.
"There is faeces on the walls," said Bryan Hebert (43).
"There is faeces all over the place."
The Superdome is patrolled by more than 500 Louisiana national guard, many of whom carry machine guns as sweaty, smelly people press against metal barricades that keep them from leaving, shouting as the soldiers pass by: "Hey! We need more water! We need help!"
Most of the refugees are given two nine-ounce bottles of water a day and two boxed meals: spaghetti, Thai chicken or jambalaya.
One man tried to escape by leaping over a barricade and racing toward the streets. The man was desperate, said Sgt Caleb Wells. Everything he was able to bring to the Superdome had been stolen. His house had likely been destroyed, his relatives killed.
"We had to chase him down," Sgt Wells said. "He said he just wanted to get out, to go somewhere. We took him to the terrace and said: 'Look'. "
Below, floodwaters were continuing to rise, submerging cars. "He didn't realise how bad things are out there," Sgt Wells said. "He just broke down. He started balling. We took him back inside."
The soldiers - most are sleeping only two or three hours a night, and many have lost houses themselves - say they are doing the best they can with limited resources and no infrastructure. But they have become the target of many refugees' anger.
"They've got the impression that we have everything and they have nothing," said Sgt John Jewell. "I tell them: 'We're all in the same boat. We're living like you're living.' Some of them understand. Some of them have lost their senses."
Thousands of people are still wading to high ground out of the flooding, and most head for the Superdome. "The conditions are steadily declining," said Maj Ed Bush.
"The systems have done all they can do. We don't know how much longer we can hold on. The game now is to squeeze everything we can out of the Superdome and then get out."
Most of the people will go to Houston, where they will stay in the Astrodome. Others will be taken to Louisiana cities that escaped the hurricane.
Between 400 and 500 people, many with critical medical conditions, were airlifted or bussed on Wednesday from the sports complex; some were taken to Houston.
"They need to see psychologically that this is real," said New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin. "They need to see that they are really moving. They need to see people getting on the bus. I want to start to create a sense of hope."
That will be difficult. As some slept outside, trying to get shade under a national guard truck, boys who had lost their shoes hopped on the hot pavement to save scalding feet. Grown men discarded their clothes and walked around in their briefs.
"People started shooting last night," said Stacey Bodden (11). She and six relatives have taken refuge in the dome.
Her uncle, David Rodriguez (28), said he heard at least seven shots on Tuesday night and saw one man running past him with a gun.
"This is a nuthouse," said April Thomas (42), who fled to the Superdome with her 11 children. She has enlisted the older boys to take turns walking patrols at night as the rest of the family sleeps. "You have to fend people off constantly," she said. "You have to fight for your life. I wake up in the morning, and the first thing I say is: 'Where are my babies? Is everyone here?"' - (LA Times, Washington Post service)