Talking about a fire here, another business re-opening or closing there and instances of post-Katrina life in New Orleans has its place. Yet, today, I feel that prepared posts on Charity Hospital and the Tennessee Williams Festival belie my true emotions and intent as a writer for this city. Of what use is telling all of you that the Mid-City Juan’s Flying Burrito is opening its doors once again or that a friend’s Lakeview home is due for demolition when you have no context for it or the memories and hope that convey with it?
What you need to know is the solemn truth about New Orleans.
Did we think life was going to be easy in a 25%-habitable city with more than half of its population gone? No. Did we think we would easily bypass the effects of post-traumatic stress as long as we stayed in the rebuilding left lane, pedal to the metal? No. Did we think coming back was going to be easy? Yes and no.
You see, New Orleans is worth saving. This is not even a topic for debate in my mind. When I walk the streets of my Lower Garden District neighborhood, with my hands running over ancient wrought iron gates surrounding beautiful old homes and inhaling the sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine, I know. When I strike up a conversation with a stranger on the street or in the elevator about anything from what we did over the weekend to the right place to buy specialty foods, I know. When I walk by a brass band playing outside K-Paul’s, tip them a dollar and receive a wide smile in return, I know. When I think about the friends, music and food I will run across at French Quarter Festival and Jazzfest in the next month, I know. When I look out over the French Quarter and the Marigny from my 33rd-floor vantage point and can identify every street into the distance, I know. When I see someone familiar everyday and say hello, I know. When I take in the amount of time and globe-spanning history and the number of multi-hued and multi-talented people that have gone into creating this old city “preserved by decay,” I know.
I know that there is no other place like this.
America needs New Orleans. The world needs New Orleans.
All of this could vanish. Again. And only a few care? We Are Not Ok
It’s harsh on yourself and your parents to instruct them thus, “Get your New Orleans visit done by the middle of June because I am not evacuating you out of here as well.”
It’s slightly ludicrous to have returned and lived here for six weeks to watch your hands tremble while organizing the contents of your closet so that the “Houston clothes” and the “New Orleans clothes” live side by side again.
And only a little more crazy that you refuse to do more than $40 worth of grocery shopping at a time because you don’t want to have to junk another refrigerator filled to the brim. I will buy plants again, though, because my balcony does not look right without them.
None of that is as scary as this, however:
Levee Restoration Price Triples
How Much The Levees Will Have To Be Raised
Storm Aid To Louisiana May Be Increased
Stay with us, America, help us. This is your fight, too. Please help spread the word that We Are Not Ok.
You have such an incredible way with words. The pride and the love you feel for your city are almost overwhelming to me. I am not a resident, but I share your love for the city, and your desire to see it rise again to its former glory. I can’t imagine how it must feel to live with the daily thoughts of “Not again… never again,” and yet feel such a bond with a place that leaving it forever feels impossible.
All I can do is tell you that I hear you, and I care, and because of you, I begin to understand what this must feel like. And I wish you the strength to withstand storms, real and metaphorical. Your heart, your spirit, and your will are the levee to brace you against them, and I wish you all the fortification in the world.
–Joel
Our country is not complete without the city of New Orleans and the other cities of the Gulf coast area. I lived in New Orleans for seven years and it breaks my heart that the parts of the city where I lived are in ruin. I moved back home 30 years ago, but my memories of riding the street car on Saturdays to the Maple Street Bookstore; the music; and most especially the magnificent food are as real now as if it had only been yesterday.
As you say, the long history of this city must live on. Every week I feel like getting on the Interstate and driving due south to see for myself how New Orleans fairs. Then I see pictures and I know it is not good and you are not OK.
Hey Aneeza, don’t be afraid to come to NOLA for a visit. The Quarter, Marigny, Bywater, and much of Uptown are relatively undamaged. Other than the occasional collapsed or burned building, lots of blue roof tarp, and random piles of “debris”, it is still entirely possible to have a perfectly fine time. We could use the company, and our restaurants, shops, etc. could use the business!
Then go take a look at the areas that didn’t fare so well, and see how much further we have to go…and then tell your friends.
Yup, Matt is right. The Sliver On The River is the city within the city now. Everyone has to see what surrounds it, though.