Biochemistry Prof. Arthur Lustig sits in his new office, a dark, nearly empty space with little but bare walls and bookless shelves.

His only personal possessions are a laptop computer and a single photo of his family, salvaged from his Tulane University office. The photo is tucked into the corner of the window sill in his Pancoe Life Sciences Pavilion.

His home in New Orleans has been destroyed by flood waters. The fate of 20 years worth of his research materials is uncertain. Lustig said he realizes that his experience weathering Hurricane Katrina and the storm’s chaotic aftermath may change him forever.

“There is no way of being quite the same after experiencing something like that,” he said.

Two weeks ago Lustig arrived at Northwestern, intent on starting over. After evacuating Katrina, he was contacted by NU biochemistry Prof. Richard Morimoto, a friend from his graduate-school days at the University of Chicago, who offered him a chance to resume his life and research in Evanston.

“I need to jump right back into research,” he said. “It’s a big part of my life. The sooner the better.”

Lustig has spent his academic career studying telomeres, biological structures that regulate chromosomes and that may play a role in preventing cancer. In his research Lustig has studied telomeres in mutated strands of yeast, some of which have been growing for up to 20 years.

Frozen at a Tulane lab that eventually lost power, the strands – his life’s work – were rescued from the heat on Wednesday. Many of the strands may be dead, though he said he is optimistic he could revive most of them.

“I think I’m actually somewhat calmer now than I was before,” he said. “Because the perspective has changed. The smaller things that you normally would get angry about are dwarfed by some of the things that really matter.”

As Katrina approached New Orleans, Lustig, his wife and daughter retreated to the Tulane University School of Medicine building, their usual hurricane outpost.

Their son was in Atlanta at a youth conference, and they had advised him to remain in Georgia. While everything seemed to have passed with relative calm when the storm struck Monday, Aug. 29, things quickly degenerated.

“Monday night, everything seemed fine; it seemed we could go home again,” he said. “And we had a moat around us Tuesday morning.”

The United States National Guard and New Orleans police made the medical school their base but soon emptied into the surrounding city to manage the disaster, abandoning the doctors and professors who inhabited the building.

Power and phone service were gone, leaving a single battery-powered radio as Lustig’s only connection to the outside world. The last message Lustig delivered to his son was, “If you don’t hear from us, it doesn’t mean something has happened to us.”

They could not be rescued by air. Snipers were shooting at helicopters that approached the school, leaving the professors stranded. At one point, there was a report a sniper had entered the building, but Lustig said it did not seem so threatening.

“It actually felt humorous,” he said. “There is a certain emotional overload.”

By Thursday, Sept. 1, rescuers were finally able to lift Lustig and his family from the medical school’s building. They were only allowed to bring 20 pounds of belongings each on the flight, Lustig said. They came to Chicago, where his wife’s family lived in the Northbrook suburb.

Two days ago, Lustig was finally able to see an aerial photo of his home. He said he wasn’t prepared for the sight: His house had a crater through the roof and is surrounded by water.

“As far as I know, we lost everything,” he said.

Some of the material losses were harder than others, including letters written to his son before he was born that will never be replaced, Lustig said.

“I don’t agree with Nietzsche’s philosophy that anything that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” he said with a laugh. “It doesn’t have to happen. We’d be just as well without.”

Lustig said he takes solace that his family is still together and that there’s a chance to start anew. He said he feels more fortunate than many others.

“I feel a responsibility, as a sort of bearing witness, that it’s important for people to know” what happened in New Orleans, he said.

Reach Jordan Weissmann at [email protected].