Windows in Louisiana take wind-driven rain, swollen wood, and humidity that fogs the glass and rots the sill. A cypress sash on a raised house is not a fogged ranch unit in a Shreveport subdivision. Say whether the water came through the meeting rail during a blow or the wall stayed wet for days after.
Southern storms throw rain at the window, not only onto the roof. Shutters that no longer close, a meeting rail that misses, and glazing putty that has fallen out all let that rain into the wall. The floor can stay dry. The plaster still blisters. In the northern parishes the complaint is more often a draft, a failed balance, or hail on an exposed pane, plus summer condensation when the coil does not dry the room.
Old ropes and weights fail, and a painted sash looks shut. Replacement frames in thick walls leak when the fin is buried and the joint is only caulked. Brick veneer on slab houses weeps into the opening. Sills on pier houses go soft at the corners while the glass looks fine, and wind makes the wall rack enough that the sash drags. Haze between panes means the seal is done. A latch that is merely loose is a smaller job. Do not mix them up.
After the blow, look at the stool and the wall under it, not only at the glass. A bubble, a soft apron, or mildew that returns in the same corner is a path. Say if the bedroom window has to open. Say if the shutter is part of the failure. Count the bad openings in words. One windward wall is a clearer call than a speech about every room in the house.
Call with the town, the floor, and the wall that took the weather. Raised cottage, slab ranch, or a house with a gallery. Wood sash, metal, or a later insert. Leak in a named wind, fog in the pane, or a sash that swells shut in humid months. Mention soft trim. The trade starts at that opening. Tell them whether the rain was blown in or the humidity did the damage alone. Call the number on this page.