Beignets, Devestation, Devotion, and all that Jazz

March 4

The storm passed to the north of us until around 9 p.m. Then the lightening and thunder surrounded us on all sides, the pounding rain forced us to turn off the TV as we could not hear it, and rivers of water began to flow by. However, we stood dry on an elevated concrete pad and the storm lasted only an hour. Again, we were in a “tornado watch” mode, but never reached the “tornado warning” category.

Tuesday dawned sunny but thirty degrees cooler than Monday. We took a shuttle to the French Quarter and dined on beignets and café au lait at the Café Du Monde (aren’t we sophisticated). Then we boarded a bus to view the Katrina damage in various neighborhoods.

Our tour guide is a third generation Louisiana native. Before, during, and after the storm, she transported evacuees out of the city. She slept in her bus for 22 days during that time. She reinforced my earlier writings that many felt afraid yet confident of surviving another hurricane. Her 3 ½ hour tour detailed the lows and the highs of those awful days. As we left the French Quarter we traveled by the Convention Center and the Superdome. Pictures of those fateful days flashed back to us. Then we ascended the tallest point in New Orleans, the Pontchartrain Expressway Bridge, site of the purported gunfire that stopped the advance of relief efforts. Slowly we made our way through Bernard Parish, the Lakeview District, and finally through the Ninth Ward. It is everything we imagined and worse.

Hope springs eternal and much work is being done. Our guide, although sparing little criticism and rebuke, praised the efforts of the Guard, volunteers (she cited the 5 M’s, the Methodists, the Mormons, the Mennonites, the Muslims, and the Many others), and the spirit of the people. Special praise (and we’ve heard it often in our two days here) was given to Lt. General Russel Honore. Now overseeing the training for Army Reserve and National Guard troops deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan at a base in Georgia, this cigar chomping Patonesque leader was ordered to New Orleans and drove right into the city with strict orders for his troops to not point any weapons at any citizens (“You are not in Iraq”). Order and civility, as much as it can be, was restored. I have a feeling that there will be a tall statue of him in New Orleans someday, one that will probably be more revered than either Andrew Jackson or Jean Lafitte.

One point of the tour particularly struck me. Again, I harken back to the images of those days brought to me by television cameras. I remember seeing the poor and indigent struggling through the flood waters. A significant part of the inundated area was middle to upper class residents. They fared the same challenges of survival yet I don’t remember seeing footage of their condition, and yes, many of them stayed.

We returned to the French Quarter for a walk of the area. This historic part of the city that gives rise to legend of wild partying is fairly quiet during the day. The architecture and eateries, some going back to the 1700’s, are varied, unique, and stylish. The St. Louis Cathedral founded in 1718, rebuilt in 1788 and again 1849, now a minor basilica dedicated by Pope Paul VI in his visit here in 1964, dominates the skyline. This area, lying below the level of the Mississippi River just 500 yards away, did not flood during the storm because the river dikes held.

The evening found us boarding the Natchez, a steam powered paddleboat, for a dinner, jazz, and views of New Orleans and the Mississippi shoreline at night. Tourism is also rebuilding here and the locals are providing outstanding support and service to win back the elite image of this very unique and vibrant city.

One of our most insightful and revealing conversations of the day was with our Muslim cabdriver who drove us back to the campground. He described the country's attitude shortly after 9/11. His family fell victim to threats of violence and racial slurs even though he had, like me, been born in America to a father who had immigrated here as a child. As the rancor directed to his family began to subside, along came Katrina - a double whammy so to speak.

Pictures of a home which floated 50 yards from it's foundation, the Quarter, the ceiling of the Cathedral, and the paddleboat.