New Orleans: The Beautiful and The Stricken – 2006

I took a trip to New Orleans this last May. The trip had been planed for the month before Katrina hit last year. I had never been to New Orleans, and was looking forward to all that the city was known to offer. The mother of one of the two friends I traveled with lives there and was there when the storm hit. Luckily she only got about 6 inches of water in her house and a bit of wind damage. Still, it had to be refurbished, replacing rotting wood, damaged furniture and appliances. With the water being there so long, the stench in the neighborhood was terrible. The flood waters brought toxic chemicals, sewage, and much that had decayed, including such neighborly critters as alligators, fish and snakes.

Driving around, we could see how high the water had risen in various parts of the city. Devastation and ruin were everywhere, giving one an eerie and ghostly feeling. The pictures on TV and in the newspapers hadn’t come close to showing the reality of the horror. The florescent colored tags tacked on every building, with the date it had been checked for people – alive or dead – gave the streets a surreal look, especially since some believed there were bodies not yet found.

I’m guessing that about 25% of the businesses were open. Help Wanted signs were everywhere, though few were being answered because there is no place to live. The hotels had cut back in staff and amenities, and restaurants offered a limited number of dishes.

And yet, even here, even now, there were things to enjoy. The people were very friendly and helpful. Southern hospitality was still alive there. Strolling through the French Quarter, we heard music everywhere. There was a homeless trumpeter in the park, trios and bands played jazz on every street corner. We saw street artists, mimes, and mule drawn carriages. All of this exuberance and joy made one almost forget the disaster that had knocked the great city of New Orleans to its knees.

Amid the wreckage and the rebuilding, I stumbled on to two interesting sculptures. The first is a large Carrara marble sculpture, carved in l991 by Robert Schoen. It is an 18 foot high man, standing on the river’s promenade. The inscription reads:

Old Man River
A man with a Past
Arms reach empty handed
God to a city in love
With water.

The other sculpture I found difficult to walk away from. I had to ditch my companions so I could return to stare. It was F.A. Lessandrini’s Monument to the Immigration. One has to wonder how it was ever envisioned, planned, carved, and moved. Standing about 30 feet high it was truly monumental. The way the angel is leaping up from the immigrants is a wonderful portrayal of spirit – spirit that is still alive in New Orleans as it diligently works toward its rebirth.

We ended our trip having found out that there is still much to enjoy in this place of so much devastation, so much sadness. And we were glad to have contributed a few dollars to the local economy. Of course, we want to go again to this marvelous city. For New Orleans is a city whose street corners are, in spite of it all, still busy with happy crowds making their joyful music – a tribute to its undying spirit.