Thursday, March 01, 2007

Seeing is believing


Ronald Shamlaty Jr. traveled to New Orleans this week by way of the Biloxi airport. As he moved westward in his rental car from Mississippi to Slidell to eastern New Orleans, he was arrested by the devastation that suddenly came into view from the interstate.
"as we went over the bridges," ....referring to the Twin Spans, "we noticed apartment complexes just destroyed, their windows all boarded up. What really got us -- we got that frog-in-the-throat thing -- was seeing all the trailers still there a year and a half later."


This is a statement from a conventioneer passing through this week; 18 months post Katrina.

To all of you folks out there who think things are just "hunky dorey" down here, either plan a trip down here or check out the area bloggers at this site


This is a picture taken on February 28th driving along Highway 11 in New Orleans East. Part of the Bayou Sauvage National Wildlife Refuge, these trees were laid down by the storm's winds. There are thousands of trees that look like this. They will never appear green again.

To get an idea of the strength of the storm surge look at this boat.

It rode over this levee, from right to left.

By the way, this boat is still sitting there.

Yes, it's been 18 months, but those of us who live here and see the remains every day know that this isn't something you just "get over".

Kelly Leahy has written about her trip thru New Orleans east here

Loki oh so eloquently discusses the fact that we had Mardi Gras and what this means to us down here Here's an excerpt:
We exist in a place where Katrina, the Federal Flood, and the ongoing trials infect every aspect of day to day life. Every interaction, every conversation, every walk down the block are tainted with the events of the past 18 months. In this sort of environment catharsis is essential. On Mardi Gras Day a pauper can be a prince, a prince can be a clown, and the clowns that, “govern,” us can be skewered with impunity. Every masker is able to leave behind the wrekage of their former home and cut loose in a collaborative satirization of the pain we are steeped in.

This is how we heal.


Mark Folse pens what Mardi Gras means to him here

If you want to see more of the storm's remnants, go here

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