There was something about this evacuation — this mass exodus out of southern Louisiana — that was more disturbing than the Katrina evacuation. The simple explanation would be that we all had Katrina and its aftermath in our minds as we evacuated this time. There was that looming question about when we would be able to return. Oh, the anxiety that comes from relying on levees.

But there was more. I have never been a part of any evacuation this large, and I did drive to Houston before Katrina. Many newscasters have been saying that this was the largest evacuation in state history. I kept wondering when it had ever been topped in the nation’s history. We don’t have that many large-scale evacuations to compare this to. One man on CNN (I think) ventured a guess, saying that this was the biggest evacuation since the dust bowl.

There is a point in the evacuation process when each person loses a sense of self and joins in the stream out of town. It is almost as though it is an ego-less process, even though it is clearly done out of self-preservation.

You become part of this seemingly endless stream of automobiles. You no longer have any option. You may even feel like you could lose your mind as you drive 13 miles in one hour (as I did in my first hour) or seven miles in one hour (as I did in my second) or 10 miles (my third). You may feel like you may lose your mind, but there is nowhere to lose it. You could pull over to the side of the road, but you can no longer escape the impersonal process pulling you away from your city.

It is difficult to be part of this flow of traffic — with the endless red brake lights, if you are driving at night — and not think about the larger process. The great temporary migration of people away from the oncoming storm. It is no longer about you.

Personally, I found that one way to stay sane was music. Ornette Coleman’s mad jazz seemed to make perfect sense in this setting.

Yelling alone in a car might seem to be irrational behavior, but it made perfect sense in this process. It made even better sense — had an outline of sanity — when yelling along with some music.

I thank Pearl Jam for keeping me sane for part of my 12-hour drive to Little Rock. I did not have this week’s Music Friday tune in the car with me — it might have felt too cliché at the time. Nonetheless, this week is a tribute to loud music. A way to stay sane.