Today is a day saturated with media coverage of an event that - for a change - absolutely deserves it. It's a good day to drop by the New Orleans Times-Picayune page, and see what the folks still holding down the fort have to say about the whole thing.

I can't effectively put into words anything that hasn't already been said about the hurricanes, because I wasn't there and New Orleans is not my hometown, and I honestly believe that those are the people who are best suited to break it down for you. And it's the stuff that's not said that's the most important, anyway - the images of and feelings about the things that have happened to a city and a culture that can never be undone.

I do believe, however, that if any city and any community can rebound in a way that makes it more bad than good, it's New Orleans. I'd never been there pre-storm, and I was glad I got to go afterwards. I didn't know enough about it before or after, and I still don't, but I think it's a good place to spend some time and listen to stories and see what happens when lives are built below sea-level, and the ocean revolts. People can say what they will - and they do - about why people would live there in such a high-risk situation, and what goes into surviving in a place that presents risk by virtue of its existence. But the people there really didn't have a say in the geography of it all, and it's long since transcended that for them. They've been there for generations, and it is - regardless of its placement on the coastal plain - their home. It's got an unbelievable aesthetic, amazing food, for all intents and purposes its own language, and of course - it has the music.

I've been back to reading the Washington Post pretty closely lately, after a few months where I had no attention span and besides that had gotten really disillusioned with the paper. The sections I used to count on for solid news were breaking down in a sad, sad way, and it seemed to me most days like one long Style insert. But this past Sunday had a couple of articles about Katrina that I thought were worthwhile, so I find them worthy of note. The cover story, "Silence After the Storm", focused on the vast numbers of Nola residents who remained in wherever they had sought refuge after Katrina, for a variety of reasons. Most seem to be folks who cannot afford to rebuild - who didn't have flood insurance, maybe, or whose neighborhoods really did seem to disappear overnight. Others lost their jobs and found them elsewhere, or felt too unsure of what a repeat storm performance might do to their families and their homes.

I honestly don't know what I would do in this situation. When I visited in May, I stayed in the Garden District - on higher ground, literally, as well as upscale and largely untouched. I talked with residents from mere blocks away, though, who, although middle or upper middle class, had suffered losses of property and spirit. Don't let the photos fool you. It is a pervasive problem.

The Sunday paper also covered Vincent's City Club, a restaurant and bar that was a popular spot for jazz and crawfish on the east side. The owners relocated to Baton Rouge after the storm, finding each other and cobbling together their staff members as they were located and brought on board again, albeit in a new city. The story of Vincent's made me cry like tales of such tenacity and loss often do (and add the healing power of food, community and music to the mix and I definitely need extra tissues.) And I have to add that Wil Haygood, the writer, has a way with a feature. I loved this story as much as I hate the reason why it had to be written, and it made me stop for at least the hundreth time since I went to JazzFest in May, and say, "God, what a terrible, terrible thing."

Today's stories were typical, and not so bad either. So read them, and look at the pictures too, because it's important to remember that at any moment we could be in a similar situation and I think most of us would want our fellow citizens to feel for us and do what they could to help us get back on our feet.

When I was down there in May, I kept seeing a few different sayings on shirts and pins and signs.

And a couple I didn't get shots of..."Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans," (with big props to Mr. Armstrong), and of course... "Laissez les bon temps rouler encore."

I do hope so, and it does happen every night, still, down in the Quarter. I just wish for it more in the hearts of the people.

Comments

[marit]

Laurie-great post, I regret never getting down to New Orleans before Katrina hit.

On a side note---Pete did come from Coldwater, Ohio. Just off of 219. My dad said he tried to send you a pic of the place, but it keeps coming back to him. Maybe our puppies are related!