The Saints Are Marching Back In

I'm watching the Saints pregame show as they play their first game in the Superdome. I'm watching with such mixed emotions. I remember seeing the Superdome as I drove into the city, the sign on the side welcoming the Saints back. The sinners had already gone.

The stadium is full of fans...by one count, one quarter of the population of the city. People whose houses my still be wrecked, whose neighborhoods are empty, whose lives have been tempest tossed. But they came to watch their team and cheer with their neighbors are show us all that the city may be down but it is not out.

From the screen, it feels a lot like the feeling I got talking to the folks I met down there.

This game won't gut houses or rebuild or hurry an insurance check. But maybe for tonight folks can come together over the sweet heartbreak for their home team in a new Dome and get distracted for a few hours.

The sight of The Edge, Green Day and a brass band playing When September Ends.... a natural metaphor for the melange of cultures that made this city and that has remade it over generations.

Irma Thomas and Allen Toussaint playing the national anthem, putting a little jazz into it. Sweet.

Tonight, maybe, the sun has begun to shine. A new day, full of hope. Hopefully.

Check out Edge's work to help NOLA musicians.

Hold the Corps Accountable

There is a great deal of information coming to light about the failure of the Army Corps of Engineers to protect the city of New Orleans and St. Bernard Parish. An organization is suing to force Congress to create independent oversite of the Corps and to rebuild the levees right.

So much of this disaster was man-made. So much of the recovery is being hindered by man.

Hope and Habitat

There is some rebuilding going on in New Orleans. A block of hope in the midst of so much destruction.

To Be In That Number

I have just returned from a week in New Orleans and St. Bernard Parish, volunteering with Habitat for Humanity. I cannot adequately describe what I saw there: the sheer devestation of so many communities, the volume of work yet to be done to even clear out the debris left from the storm, the hard work put in by so many volunteers, and the hospitality of the people of Louisiana.

I will try in a series of posts to let you know what I saw and learned. First, a few words about the people I worked with:

A New Jersey firefighter who spent his two week vacation building houses because he has experience.

The medical student who spent his entire summer break in the heat.

The English kids visiting the area who wanted to help out for a day because they saw so much of the devestation on the telly.

The Americorps volunteers who give up a year to work in the sun and the muck.

The 70 year old with the artificial hip, which didn't keep him from putting siding on a house.

And the people of New Ahlins (not really N'Awlins as most people think): Hardy and holding up despite all they've lost. Smiles and hellos abound, as does conversation. Before the Storm and After the Storm, the new way of counting time. Lives lived in the past tense when the future is unknown.

You can still hear street musicians playing When the Saints Go Marching In for tips, though and eat great food and drink drinks invented during prohibition to get rid of the excess rum ( I believe I got that story straight, but had already had half a Hurricane and am a little fuzzy on the details).

Most of all, you can still get the warmth of the people. People actually talk to each other there, or maybe just to foreigners like me. Where are you from, why are you here, and most often, Thank you.

Thank you, New Orleans and St. Bernard. Thank you for letting me feel like I helped just a little, when there is so much work to do.

Thank you for giving me the chance to meet so many great people and have fun and experience a great city. Thank you for letting me be in your number.