The Outer Limits: Part I

I'm off work today and tomorrow. It was hard not to take advantage of this beautiful 60 degree weather we're having down here by taking a little drive around the city.

It turned out to be quite revealing.

I asked CK to join me since two is better than one, and we toured Uptown, Riverbend, the French Quarter, City Park, Esplanade Ave., Canal Street/Boulevard, Lakeveiw and Westend. I really wish I had my camera with me.

We started out with a drive down St. Charles Avenue, with the destination being this great sushi place on Oak Street. The avenue really was pretty darn nice. There was trees missing here and there, though it was the complete absence of the St. Charles Streetcar that proved to be a little unnerving. We drove just waiting to see a streetcar that wasn’t going to pop up any time soon.

Speaking of unnerving, we took a stroll through the French Quarter after lunch. I had a main objective of satisfying this major craving I’ve been having for a cup of java at my most beloved coffee shop in the entire city. (Ask CK all about how freaking giddy I was when I found out that they were indeed open!) As we were taking our steps into the Quarter itself, I couldn't help but take notice of something that was missing: music.

We were on the very corner of the famous Jackson Square and not a peep, not a single note could be heard in the air. If you've never been to the Quarter, let me just tell you, it's down right scary for the only sounds to be heard are the vehicles that are occupying the road. Jackson Square is famous not only for the St. Louis cathedral that crowns the top of the park, but also for the many artists and musicians that set up around the area day in and day out. You could find at least one artist on the Square even at one o'clock o a Tuesday morning. Now all that could be found were vehicles, which pre-Katrina, was not allowed. CK expressed his disappointment with me for bringing up this observation.. Apparently I answered his unspoken question on "what's wrong with this picture." This outing was his second time to post-Katrina Quarter, and he couldn't figure out what was wrong when he last was there. I figured it out. Anyway, we headed to my java spot and ended up chatting with the owner for a bit, which ended with the guy suggesting that we drive up Canal Street/Boulevard to see the damage that was endured up there.

At least 45% of the places we drove by were unlivable.

You see, Canal is scattered with businesses that eventually dissolve into beautiful homes as you drive further up the street, going toward Lake Ponchatrain. In post-Katrina New Orleans, you could now spy the dried up evidence of where the flood waters decided to stop at as you drove up the street. The stain gradually moved up from one foot, to two feet, to three, four, and five. Inside some of the structures we could see homes that were gutted out, nothing but their skeletons remaining. Two things went through my head.

1. Thank freaking god this did not take place in my hometown across the Mississippi. The Westbank--well, most of it--lucked out greatly. I was so glad I didn't have to see my parents react to what could've been. They just bought a new house a little over a year ago due to the downfall of our old neighborhood. For years, they would speak of a misjudged decision to stay in that neighborhood after a category 1 hurricane flooded the crap out of our neighborhood back in 1985.



Those pictures you see on your left-hand screen is what went down. Our house was elevated about 4 feet higher than the average home in the subdivision and we still got two feet in our house. (I want to also mention that before the subdivision was built it used to be a swamp. Needless to say, my old neighborhood got hit horribly for Katrina. heck, any place in the city that used to be a swamp got flooded.) It took about four months to fix up the place before we could live back in it.

That first week after the Katrina hit, during the family's evacuation, my mom spoke fearfully that if our home flooded again, that was it. She wasn't going to stick around to gut out and fix up the place again. I'm pretty sure that type of feeling is what many have felt with Katrina. If you been through it once, chances are you don't want to go through it again.

2. Potential Real Estate. I felt kinda bad for thinking this, but it was hard not to. I think ever since I was 15, when I first experienced the exquisitely beautiful homes that are in uptown/garden District, i wanted to be a part of that history. One of my main goals in life is to purchase an antique, one hundred or more years, home and restore it than call it home. In the wake of Katrina, many homes will end up being abandoned due to feelings that have been stated above.

As bad as things were out there, it was hard not to crack a smile at a local's inspirational phrase that was spray painted across his house: F U Katrina.