Almost certainly. Many people have made August 29th a day of fasting and sorrow, sort of like Tisha B'Av, only for Y'at's! (I am, technically, geographically speaking.) A NOLA day of mourning and sorrow in remembrance of Hurricane Katrina, the damned she-devil, she made landfall on August 29th, 2005, and in her murderous path, the invisible sunlit rays of Grace extended capriciously to those ill-prepared, incredulous, and foolishly, unafraid souls, by her then 40 year old Grandmother, Betsy, while in the midst of widespread destruction so sneakily dealt, like an infant who can somehow twirl, dance, and offer convincing deception as to her destination while in the seemingly helpless state of cholic, with its violent throes, then jaundiced, while the storm surge represents an acute stage traumatic, hydro-encephalopathy, in the clinical personification of a northern-hemispheric low-pressure tropical cyclone
You can call them
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