If you’ve never been to New Orleans, I hope one day you’ll go. There really isn’t another place on earth like it. Along with a heavy layer of humidity, there’s something in the air there that gives you a sense of hope and pride. You breath it in and for the moment all is right with the world. Anything is possible.
A strange feeling seeing that five years ago this weekend very little was right there. But a lot has changed in five years.
As I reflect on one of the biggest news stories of my generation and certainly of my career, I don’t want to spend a lot of time dwelling on the things I saw the night mighty Katrina blew into town or the days and weeks after. It’s still a lot to take in. It’s still difficult to process.
The staggering loss of life haunts me to this day. The official death toll from the storm is 1,836. The majority of those deaths can be blamed on the catastrophic failure of a weak and neglected levee system. It’s hard not to be angry about that.
I spent the hours before Katrina made landfall outside the Louisiana Superdome. I had done the same thing a year earlier when Hurricane Ivan seemed to be on a direct path to New Orleans. Once again I found myself interviewing residents who’d come seeking shelter.
Like the year before, I met a lot of people in the line waiting to get inside. An elderly grandmother with her two young grandchildren in tow. A single mother holding tightly to her baby. A woman who helped her father push her handicapped mother up the wheelchair ramp. As I was talking to these people, it never dawned on me that some of them wouldn’t make it through the next few days.
I saw a lot in the wake of the storm. But that’s what I remember the most. The people I met that night who’d innocently come looking for shelter only to be lining up for what would become a nightmare.
Some of my dearest friends live in New Orleans and I’ve made several trips back to the city since Katrina. The recovery has been slow, but steady.
Many homes have been renovated or reconstructed, but they sit next to the shells of homes whose owners aren’t as fortunate or determined.
Many businesses have reopened but their customer base isn’t what it used to be. Thousands of their patrons never came home, opting or forced to start over somewhere else.
But there are people in New Orleans who are determined to see their great city rise again. They overcome obstacles and hardships everyday. They press on, though. And if they are scared or overwhelmed or feel defeated, they don’t let it show.
They are the ones who fill the air with hope and pride. They are the ones who make it seem like anything is possible. Like even in a place that has seen pain and suffering of the greatest proportion, all can be right with the world - even if just for a moment.
well written Lane. It's amazing how many people moved to Charlotte after Katrina. Our LSU alumni group doubled. Literally..
ReplyDeleteLove it Lane!
ReplyDeleteI was at your house in Shreveport at the start of this crazy ride. You left to come to New Orleans to cover the storm and we (Julie & I) drove south to Lafayette to be closer so we could get home right after the storm was over. It took over two months before I got back to the city- and I got home soon! Because of where I lived, I was one of the first groups to be allowed back and I luckily lived in a neighborhood that was spared the worst. I could never have imagined how a storm could affect so much and so drastically change the course of my and many others lives. Five years later, I am still in New Orleans and I am prouder than ever to call this city home. please come visit soon.