New Orleans 2006

We saw signs like this virtually everywhere.





According to Jamie, even though most of these homes are unsalvageable, these signs went up when there was a fear that the whole area would be cleared and appropriated by the city.





Stairway to nowhere.





Who knows what became of that chicken. These kind of markings are everywhere, a code for resuce workers.





A roof is all that's left.





This stretch limo (!?!) was piled on top of a pickup truck and a motorcycle.





One of many devastated churches that we saw. This one was well named.





Just part of the mishmash of flood detritus.





We saw several large batches of ruined cars dumped at makeshift lots underneath the freeways. This one hasn't made it there yet.


Only a facade left of this church.











Few New Orleans homes have actual foundations. Here's one that just floated.





This one ended up in the middle of the road. Street signs and stop signs are gone, replaced by makeshift hand-made signs.





There are a few more signs of life in St. Bernard Parish. The returnees are determined to rebuild.





Temporary housing in St. BP. The Lower 9th Ward, by contrast, is so devastated that there's no clean water or power and no FEMA trailers yet.





Totally wrecked.





This pile of useless inventory was at least 12 feet high.





Generally speaking, everything is turned upside down.

After 20 consecutive years of visiting New Orleans, I've come to expect several days of cognitive dissonance when we return to Boulder. I haven't been disappointed, although this year it's a bit different.

We've all read and heard about and seen pictures of the Katrina disaster, but like so many important events it tends to fade into last week's news cycle. Not so when you're actually there on the ground. I'd estimate that 75% of the non-JazzFest related stories in the Times-Picayune had something to do with the Katrina aftermath. In short, except for the "sliver by the river" and a few other parts of town, the city is trashed. It's estimated that 165,000 of the nearly half-million residents have returned. More and more businesses are gradually reopening, invariably with big signs that say, "WE ARE OPEN -- Now Hiring." But some of our favorite places are gone (like the incomparable Uglesich's, which closed before Katrina, and La Madeleine, where we've been eating Strawberries Romanoff since 1987) or still in cold storage. Radio station WWOZ -- the most soulful station you've ever heard, and the voice of JazzFest -- is back on the air, although in temporary digs since the roof caved in on their old studio. Check them out at http://www.wwoz.org. I'm listening to them online right now.

It has been over eight months since the hurricane hit. As you can see from these photos taken in the Lower 9th Ward and St. Bernard Parish, there are areas that look like they were hit with a neutron bomb. Power lines strewn all over, handmade street signs and stop signs, no clean water, very, very few people even attempting any kind of clean-up, rescue markings still in place. There are NO businesses open in the Lower 9th and very few in St. B.P.

And yet, the spirit of the returnees is generally high. Beyond the nearly omipresent blue tarps and the residual post-traumatic shock, people are stubbornly commtted to rebuilding this most unique of Amercan cities. And to retaining its special character, Federal Government be damned. If there were any justice in this world the current batch of Feds would be consigned to the deepest, hottest circle of Hell. Instead, it will be New Orleans residents out in the stifling Louisiana heat, humidity, black mold and rubble. BYO pitchfork.

Still, New Orleanians have retained a sense of humor judging by many of the t-shirts we saw. In addition to the ones pictured here we saw "FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run, Bitch, Run," "Make Levees, Not War," "I Survived Katrina and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt ... and a Gun and a Plasma TV."

If you want to make a difference, our NOLA friend Vivian Cahn says the very best thing you can do is contact your congressional representatives and urge them to go beyond the paltry efforts we've seen so far. As is typical, Bush's programs funnel most of the money to developers and casinos while making the people who are suffering the most jump through incomprehensible hoops to get whatever crumbs are left over.

On our first day there we ran into Leslie Smith at a coffee shop. Her kids are off at schools in other states and she's without permanent address, "just living the typical life of a homeless New Orleans musician." Things have been harder for her dad, the brilliant photographer and documenter of New Orleans culture, Michael P. Smith. Mike suffers from Parkinson's, which is rough enough, but he has also lost a lot of his work, although his collection of negatives remains intact.

Most of our other friends have fared better. Nearly all of them say, "We suffered some damage, but who can complain when you see what other people are going through?" Washboard Chaz and Jessica hope to move back into their house in about four weeks. The Terrell House B&B, where we have stayed off and on for years, was remodeled in 2004, which helped it weather what was mostly "just" high winds in the Lower Garden District. Jamie & Mary came out OK in the French Quarter. We spent 3 nights at their place and can assure you that the Quarter is still as weird as ever.

JazzFest was, thank God, still JazzFest. As soon as we were in the fairgrounds gate it was like we'd never left. It was very well attended when we were there on the second weekend. Crowds were likely even bigger for weekend #1 when Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan and Dave Matthews played. (Edna Gunderson has been covering the event for years for USA Today. Read her report at http://www.usatoday.com/life/music/news/2006-05-07-jazz-fest_x.htm Many people pitch their gear at one of the big stages and stay there all day. We, on the other hand, are floaters, catching a few songs and moving on. I think the only full sets we heard were by Bobby Lounge, an eccentric performer who climbs out of an iron lung ("It's for personal preference, not medical necessity") to perform his rollicking and often hilarious songs; and pianist Ellis Marsalis, patriarch of the Marsalis clan, joined by Lou Tabackin on sax. Other good hits were Nathan & the Zydeco Cha-Chas, the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Big Chief Monk Boudreaux and the Golden Eagles, Marcia Ball, Irma Thomas, Warren Haynes (who performed his original song "Rain Down Pain" in tribute to the city), Tab Benoit, Astral Project and others who are lost in the blur. Both the performers and natives in general were thrilled to see such a large out-of-state representation and went out of their way to thank us -- both from the stage and in person -- for showing up and caring.

We love ya, New Orleans, so hang in there.

Cary aka The Rooster