City Focus: New Orleans

                                                                                         

My love for New Orleans began as a teenager reading Anne Rice novels. The New Orleans she had created was mystical and transcendent, full of decay but itself immune to death. Her novels had created something so real to me that my first time visiting was like coming home. I knew the warmth of a cup of café au lait on a cold night, the blare of trumpets on street corners, even the stench of the French Quarter.



The only deep scar I could see was the city’s emptiness. Lots that should have been full of cars were empty, save for flooded vehicles left to the sides of roads and parking lots to be gathered for collection. The cabbie told me the city finally inked a deal to ship the vehicles out to junkyards across the country. He
mused that letting the people loot the cars instead of arresting them would have, in the end, cost them a lot less.


As the group was led through the various neighborhoods, we could see some houses being gutted by volunteers. Mary told us that volunteer groups, many through their church, have been coming to the city
performing double duty as volunteer workers and as tourists since the recovery effort began. Typically, they would spend a day or two gutting a house and the rest of their time enjoying the city. The tourism
sector, Mary confirmed, was never the problem. With barely an inch of floodwater,the French Quarter, Central Business District and Garden District never received more than a little wind damage.

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