I have been clicking my heals for weeks now, maybe I should get my ruby slippers checked out.
When we first arrived in Florida, after escaping Hurricane Katrina, people were friendly. They were sincere, kind and generous. Most of them had a fondness for New Orleans that they were glad to talk about. Our Floridian hosts described America’s romantic European city whilst flecks of sweet memories glistened in their voices.
We sat at dinner tables and smiled and listened to stories of wild nights on Bourbon St., fabulous dinners, hangovers, musical experiences and near criminal misses. None of these stories really resonated well with Sean and I, but we patiently listened. It is so common that people who “JUST LOVE New Orleans” when they visit, wouldn’t dare live there. If we stuck around for after dinner drinks, most people would tell us about why that is true also. Among other reasons, they most frequently listed crime, pollution, and corruption, poor education and heat.
We have absorbed comments like: “you’d be crazy to go back” and “this kind of thing never would have happened in Florida” and “why didn’t those people just leave?”. Honestly, I have no response anymore. I can’t really explain myself so that they will understand. I even feel like, having some of these people actually adopt my sensibility of this subject would be an indicator for me to re-evaluate my logic. However, I have made it a priority to explain my love of New Orleans to myself. After all, my stay there has not been entirely easy.
I can forgive people trying to wrap their minds around the guns, sneaker looting, rape, and murder. None of that makes sense at first glance. It frightens me that I think I might understand it now…at least conceptually. Regardless of these comments, and the truths that make them, I want to go home.
We New Orleanians withstand lives of perpetual heartache and outrageous joy. None of us are able to escape the tragic poverty. Not even those of us who live in fancy mansions in Audubon Place. It permeates everything.. Similarly, we live on the front lines of crime, disease, addiction, and a tragic education system guilty of many crimes including social genocide. I like this because you can never notice your fortune without being aware of someone else’s lack of fortune. It activates our sense of gratitude.
It is also true that a great many of us have lived in anticipation of “the big one”. Believe it or not, we have known for some time that a storm like Katrina was imminent. I am guilty of conveniently redefining immanency to mean…sometime within this century. Alas, like our fearless president, I have allowed my mind to define the global warming problem with the same logic. Denial or survivalistic optimism?
I digress.
I did mention outrageous joy. I love a city that closes down every thoroughfare in town for a few weeks every year to allow parades to pass throwing toys to children…and adults. Where else do grown adults get to dress up in glitter and dance down any street in the city with their own band? Come to think of it, why is that such a strange idea everywhere else in the world? Why is it that every other city in America forces the bars to close at 2 am, and doesn’t even let you walk around with a little daiquiri? I have lived in those towns, and I promise, it doesn’t reduce the probability of drunks littering the streets at any hour. Rules do not always insure safety.
In the years that I have inhabited New Orleans, I have shared many beautiful drunken sunrises with good friends, but that is not what I love about that city. In fact, as I slowly grow older, I have become quite fond of sober moments. In fact, Mardi Gras day is far better when your mind isn't so polluted that the colors and music are dulled.
I love the baton girls and the flambeau guys and marching bands. I love the spring afternoons, sitting in the park with an iced coffee and a friend. I love dew covered crepe myrtle trees and night blooming jasmine. I love being stuck in traffic at 2 in the afternoon, because some random second line is escorting a slow moving homemade convertible with a girl in a ball grown down a road headed to a crawfish boil. In reality, what I love the most about New Orleans is that it defies arbitrary social convention.
I am now in Florida, drowning in arbitrary social convention. The oppression is outstanding. I mean it, even at the Library. What I am learning is that I need that city, because everywhere else is lame. I really can’t make it sound smarter than that. I want to go home and sit on my porch and talk to my neighbors, ride my bike around town, take my dogs to the park, hear music, eat red beans on Monday, wear an evening gown to Pop-eye’s, and have a 4 hour conversation with everybody in the Rue, about nothing, over coffee and cigarettes. I am anxious to be somewhere that feels good, like I belong there. It is the one place that has ever felt like home to me. I went there by myself. I planted my roots there. I fell in love there. I want to live and die there.
9.16.2005
In the unforgettable but often forgotten words of Steve Perry: "the wheel in the sky keeps turnin. i don't know where I'll be tomorrow"
WARNING!
I posted so much tonight that some of it has already been archived, so there are more pictures to see. Click on the archives for the most recent posts.
I also decided to post some drama free pictures. I hope this will lighten some hearts.
To be quite honest, this adventure has been well balanced by joy and distress. We have been forced into some very good spaces during our flight from a very bad one.
We have had time to visit with friends, family, and children. We have reconnected with friends and loved ones from everywhere. Katrina has given us no alternative but to realize the love that surrounds our lives.
The pictures I just posted scan the last month. It has come to my attention that I have seriously done some traveling over the last several weeks. I have been to Whales, Milwaukee, and Madison Wisconsin as well as Chicago, Tallahassee, St. Augustine, Sarasota, and Tampa. Here are some pics.
I posted so much tonight that some of it has already been archived, so there are more pictures to see. Click on the archives for the most recent posts.
I also decided to post some drama free pictures. I hope this will lighten some hearts.
To be quite honest, this adventure has been well balanced by joy and distress. We have been forced into some very good spaces during our flight from a very bad one.
We have had time to visit with friends, family, and children. We have reconnected with friends and loved ones from everywhere. Katrina has given us no alternative but to realize the love that surrounds our lives.
The pictures I just posted scan the last month. It has come to my attention that I have seriously done some traveling over the last several weeks. I have been to Whales, Milwaukee, and Madison Wisconsin as well as Chicago, Tallahassee, St. Augustine, Sarasota, and Tampa. Here are some pics.
9.15.2005
Hey yall, we went in.
Well, we couldn't take it anymore. Sitting in Floridian paradise, unable to know what to do with ourselves was becoming too much to endure. Tuesday afternoon Sean and I left for New Orleans.
We were told that all roads were closed, and no persons would be allowed in. The previous days had been filled with reports from friends and family who had gone, but we had also seen both violent and amicable evacuation scenes on television.
Our decision to go back was truly hinged on the fact that we had nothing better to do. Besides, all of this pretend peace of mind was driving us nuts. We keep trying to act like we are on vacation, so that it doesn’t make all of our hosts miserable, but really we (at least I) sort of feel like screaming every few minutes. Sometimes an impulsive road trip is the only cure for a restless spirit.
We employed our good ol’ American senses of conservation and filled up the F150 and drove about 1400 miles roundtrip in order to …. Um…collect our thoughts? We also collected some practicals like tools and work clothes.
We arrived into Covington (across the lake from N.O.) at about 3:30 A.M.. It was really dark and silent. The 11:00 curfew was in effect and nobody was around. The proud trees that proliferated Covington were collapsed and stacked like dead soldiers after a battle. I still can’t believe how sad it and scary it felt. We tried to come up with some kind of strategy or story, because surely someone, some kind of gate-keeper will ask us something…right?
We decided that perhaps a nap was in order, so we parked in front of Merica’s house and slept in her driveway until the mosquitoes woke us up. Sometime after 4 A.M., we decided to head for the causeway bridge.
The entrance to the bridge was heavily guarded by police and the electric sign insisted that the causeway was “closed due to weather”. As we got closer, we grew even more nervous. The truck in front of us was the only other car we had seen on the road. He was carrying palates of bricks. He stopped and spoke to the guard, then moved through the gate. We didn’t stop. We just waved that country truck wave, and the guard waved back.
Yeah. They didn’t ask us for our story. That was a very cool disappointment.
Once we arrived in Metarie, we could see that patches of power had been restored, but largely it was an empty abandoned city with no sign of life. I 10 was barricaded. At least, someone had barricaded it recently, but it could have been easily breached.
We drove down river road. The only things we could see were feral cats, broken oaks, and army HumVs. Nobody actually cared that we were there, driving around unofficially.
When we arrived at our house, it was dark. The glass pane in Doug’s door was broken and the door was left wide open. Clearly, someone had been sleeping in our beds. We were too scared to go in, so we went and sat in the truck near a well-lit area where the press was camped.
As soon as the sun made an appearance, we entered our home, Sean with a flashlight and I with (don’t laugh) a billy club. I’m a little embarrassed about my weapon. Much to our astonishment, all was well. Someone had clearly rummaged through our drawers, but it looked like all they took was our change, some clothes and our bikes. Too bad about the bikes, but if they helped someone, I am pleased.
The damage to our home is minimal. The town will be hard to fix, but it can be done with some solidarity, patients, and elbow grease.
We have heard that people will be allowed to return next week, but we are ready to wait until it is slightly more inhabitable. The trash, flies, and lack of water, is a little overwhelming. Not to mention the chaos of re-entry.
Sean will likely go back in 2 weeks. With any luck, William will join him and help him fix the fence before I bring the dogs back. In the mean time, I will try to work and get some income for a while.
I have posted some pictures for everyone. There are more on my other blog http://ccmuses.blogspot.com
I don’t know who is reading this anymore, but I would love to collect some photos of our friends that are scattered about. If anyone can, please send a picture so we can all have a look at our loved ones, safe in their space. Email me at nolajacqui@yahoo.com.
We were told that all roads were closed, and no persons would be allowed in. The previous days had been filled with reports from friends and family who had gone, but we had also seen both violent and amicable evacuation scenes on television.
Our decision to go back was truly hinged on the fact that we had nothing better to do. Besides, all of this pretend peace of mind was driving us nuts. We keep trying to act like we are on vacation, so that it doesn’t make all of our hosts miserable, but really we (at least I) sort of feel like screaming every few minutes. Sometimes an impulsive road trip is the only cure for a restless spirit.
We employed our good ol’ American senses of conservation and filled up the F150 and drove about 1400 miles roundtrip in order to …. Um…collect our thoughts? We also collected some practicals like tools and work clothes.
We arrived into Covington (across the lake from N.O.) at about 3:30 A.M.. It was really dark and silent. The 11:00 curfew was in effect and nobody was around. The proud trees that proliferated Covington were collapsed and stacked like dead soldiers after a battle. I still can’t believe how sad it and scary it felt. We tried to come up with some kind of strategy or story, because surely someone, some kind of gate-keeper will ask us something…right?
We decided that perhaps a nap was in order, so we parked in front of Merica’s house and slept in her driveway until the mosquitoes woke us up. Sometime after 4 A.M., we decided to head for the causeway bridge.
The entrance to the bridge was heavily guarded by police and the electric sign insisted that the causeway was “closed due to weather”. As we got closer, we grew even more nervous. The truck in front of us was the only other car we had seen on the road. He was carrying palates of bricks. He stopped and spoke to the guard, then moved through the gate. We didn’t stop. We just waved that country truck wave, and the guard waved back.
Yeah. They didn’t ask us for our story. That was a very cool disappointment.
Once we arrived in Metarie, we could see that patches of power had been restored, but largely it was an empty abandoned city with no sign of life. I 10 was barricaded. At least, someone had barricaded it recently, but it could have been easily breached.
We drove down river road. The only things we could see were feral cats, broken oaks, and army HumVs. Nobody actually cared that we were there, driving around unofficially.
When we arrived at our house, it was dark. The glass pane in Doug’s door was broken and the door was left wide open. Clearly, someone had been sleeping in our beds. We were too scared to go in, so we went and sat in the truck near a well-lit area where the press was camped.
As soon as the sun made an appearance, we entered our home, Sean with a flashlight and I with (don’t laugh) a billy club. I’m a little embarrassed about my weapon. Much to our astonishment, all was well. Someone had clearly rummaged through our drawers, but it looked like all they took was our change, some clothes and our bikes. Too bad about the bikes, but if they helped someone, I am pleased.
The damage to our home is minimal. The town will be hard to fix, but it can be done with some solidarity, patients, and elbow grease.
We have heard that people will be allowed to return next week, but we are ready to wait until it is slightly more inhabitable. The trash, flies, and lack of water, is a little overwhelming. Not to mention the chaos of re-entry.
Sean will likely go back in 2 weeks. With any luck, William will join him and help him fix the fence before I bring the dogs back. In the mean time, I will try to work and get some income for a while.
I have posted some pictures for everyone. There are more on my other blog http://ccmuses.blogspot.com
I don’t know who is reading this anymore, but I would love to collect some photos of our friends that are scattered about. If anyone can, please send a picture so we can all have a look at our loved ones, safe in their space. Email me at nolajacqui@yahoo.com.
9.04.2005
Nesting Place
I would not be so bold as to call this place "home", but we will be here in Tampa for an extended period. It has been said that falling leaves land at their roots; perhaps this is why Katrina's wind has blown us back to west Florida.
We just arrived here last night after taking a detour to Tallahassee where we spent some time with Sean's nephews Jack (almost 2 yrs) and Alex (5 days). Jenny and Charlie were as sweet and kind as I imagined. We intended to leave Minerva in their care, but at the last minute decided that we would need to choose between putting her down or take her with us. Abandoning her was simply not an option. We were not ready to let Katrina take our home, our lives, and our dog. We decided to bring her to Tampa.
I must say this is the best part of her trip so far. The dogs were greeted with bbq rawhides last night and pig ears this morning. Every dog should have an Aunt Katie!
I feel comfortable here listening to the click of dog feet on my mother’s floor with the smell of blueberry pancakes and bacon pouring out from the kitchen. Comfort food and puppy dogs can be amazingly effective healing instruments.
Since the last inventory post, I have located many of the missing persons (thanks to Merica). There seems to be many people in Covington. I was not aware that it was open...what is the deal?
We will be here looking for jobs, and working until we know what to do with our lives now. It is rumored that homeowners will be allowed back into the city to view, or salvage their homes. Is this rumor valid?
Love to all.
My new contacts numbers are:
Kathleen's: 727.725.1020
Mom's (Peggy)727.734.8729
We just arrived here last night after taking a detour to Tallahassee where we spent some time with Sean's nephews Jack (almost 2 yrs) and Alex (5 days). Jenny and Charlie were as sweet and kind as I imagined. We intended to leave Minerva in their care, but at the last minute decided that we would need to choose between putting her down or take her with us. Abandoning her was simply not an option. We were not ready to let Katrina take our home, our lives, and our dog. We decided to bring her to Tampa.
I must say this is the best part of her trip so far. The dogs were greeted with bbq rawhides last night and pig ears this morning. Every dog should have an Aunt Katie!
I feel comfortable here listening to the click of dog feet on my mother’s floor with the smell of blueberry pancakes and bacon pouring out from the kitchen. Comfort food and puppy dogs can be amazingly effective healing instruments.
Since the last inventory post, I have located many of the missing persons (thanks to Merica). There seems to be many people in Covington. I was not aware that it was open...what is the deal?
We will be here looking for jobs, and working until we know what to do with our lives now. It is rumored that homeowners will be allowed back into the city to view, or salvage their homes. Is this rumor valid?
Love to all.
My new contacts numbers are:
Kathleen's: 727.725.1020
Mom's (Peggy)727.734.8729
9.01.2005
Inventory
I can't seem to focus on any single thought since the faces of everyone I know in my community are flashing behind my eyes. Where are all the people we love? Are they safe? Please let us know if you have any information about the unknowns. These are the people I just thought of, we may add more.
love,
Jacqui and Sean
Let Love Rule
Those we know are ok:
love,
Jacqui and Sean
Let Love Rule
Those we know are ok:
- Sean and Jacqui
- Jeff Finn
- Ryan Finn
- Daniel Bobeck
- Jenny and Jay
- Laine, Joanne and Dennis
- William Czjaka
- Kaysey, Steve, Cass, and Nick
- Ben and Ama
- Julie Louse
- Randy Clark
- Gipson Blanchard
- The Foultons
- The Saladinos
- Red Devit
- Kathryn Wheat
- Duane and Family
- DJ Soulsister
- Christian and LiLi Barahonna
- Ren and Bobby
- Peck Family
- Katie and Claire Triplett
- Obriens and Rose
- Cass, Heather, Kay and LouisChris Radcliff
- Paddy and Elsa Mackey
- Jordan
- Lloyd and Mya
- Jude Mathews
- Shannah and Jonah Langenbeck
- Sarah and Rick
- Mike Lenore
- Jackson Kowles
- Jeffery Chamblis
- Millie and Willie Clark
- The Montalbanos
- Bradley Sabin
- Kate Cromwell
- Chris Radcliff
- Billy and Nikki Southern
- Ren and Bobby
- Amelia
- Sunshine and Jheri
- Joe and Crispin
- Sonny
Unheard From:
- Scotty and Jennifer Rattery
- Jerry Ropollo
- Missy and Dave
- April and Jeremy
- Ruby Nunnery, Leslie, Rob, and Remmi
- Earnest
- Greg Surry and Julie P
- Paddy and Elsa Mackey
- Noel and Gretchen
- Jessica Thompson
- Mark from Circle Auto
- Monistare Family
- Grace Baptist Family
- Dave Morris
- Doug Dietrich
- Angela and Julie
- James Clark
- Michelle and Eric
- Renne Morrisey
- Mac McLaughlin
- Brian Whitead
- Dave and Billy Constance
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