New Orleans: A Personal Account

I grew up in New Orleans. I have lived in other cities, in other countries, but I always come back to New Orleans. Everything that I am, that I think, and that I love is somehow wrapped up in the city. It’s the only place in the world that I feel truly comfortable. Until about two weeks ago I was a second year student at Tulane University School of Law. But instead of transferring to another school, I have decided to take a semester off to do whatever I can help my beloved town get back on it’s feet.

The first thing that needs to be said is that, from a preservation point of view, the city is still virtually intact. There was not a lot of physical damage to the French Quarter, the Garden District, or the Uptown neighborhoods along the river – a fact almost entirely ignored by the media. The second thing that needs to be said is that there are some wonderful areas that did have damage that are in danger, not of natural forces, but of potential condemnation by the city.

I road out the storm in my aunt’s Garden District house, while my parents, siblings, and grandmother were about ten blocks away in the Lower Garden District. We kept in touch by telephone while the storm raged on. The next day, we road our bikes down to the French Quarter and had a drink in a bar on Bourbon Street. The French Quarter had very little damage as far as we could see. It mostly consisted of red roof tiles that had blown off and lay broken in the streets. Since there are not many trees there, they had few of the problems found further uptown, where fallen trees blocked the streets and knocked down power lines. However, there was water on Canal Street, coming from the direction of the lake.

Little did we know then that the worst was yet to come. The levee along the 17th Street Canal had been breached and the water was rising in the city. As we drove down a semi-cleared St. Charles Avenue the next day we saw the people forced from their homes by the rising water, making their way to the Avenue and then downtown, hoping to find refuge. As residents filed out, the violence escalated. For two days we didn’t leave the yard. Scary-looking people roamed the streets on foot or on bicycles, and from the roof we watched fires burn around the city, with no one to put them out. Surely, we thought, help is on the way. But still it didn’t arrive.

Over the next few days we got on the phone and called everyone we knew, begging them to call their local politicians, or anyone they knew to tell them that we needed help. The city was completely lawless, completely disordered, and completely frightening.

It seemed like an eternity before the troops arrived and order was somewhat restored. Now when a building caught on fire someone actually showed up to fight it. And while there was still no water pressure, someone had had the ingenious idea of filling fuel tankers with water and hooking fire hoses up to them, as well as using helicopters to dip large water buckets in the Mississippi River and then dump the water on burning buildings. I myself saw some pretty amazing acrobatics and coordination in play (involving both NOFD and NYFD) at a fire that burned down a couple of buildings in the Lower Garden District, a block behind my mother’s law practice.

What we really need in New Orleans right now is people. Not just FEMA and the Red Cross, but New Orleanians – people who love the city, who are vested there. New Orleans is at a crossroads right now, and without New Orleanians there to protect the town they love, I worry about what will happen to it.

I saw a report on television recently about a neighborhood called the Bywater, which borders the French Quarter to the northwest. The Bywater is a wonderful, funky middle- and lower-middle-class neighborhood. It’s been there for a long time, and some of New Orleans’ most incredible and unique characters have come out of it. The television reporter was saying, “Yesterday there was about a foot of water in this street. It’s dry now, but may have to be condemned for environmental reasons…” I couldn’t believe it. Certainly in its long history the Bywater has flooded before, and no one has ever though of demolishing it.

But people don’t come to New Orleans just to look at buildings. They come to feel the vibe and the atmosphere given off by the people who live in those houses, who are imbued with the mellow yet frenetic attitude that makes the city so remarkable and such fun. I understand that there are some neighborhoods that are uninhabitable right now, but there are also neighborhoods that are ready for clean up. More importantly, there are semi-damaged neighborhoods, and salvageable buildings in badly damaged neighborhoods, that will have to be watched closely by both residents and preservations alike, in order to insure that they do fall prey to the wrecking ball.

I am hopeful and confident for New Orleans. There is a spirit there that will not be destroyed, if only because New Orleanians don’t know any other way to live. While some might be displaced for a time, I suspect that they will make their way back to New Orleans, even if it takes a long time. Because once you have felt that easy, open-minded, open-hearted, do-what-you-want-and-enjoy-it kind of lifestyle, it’s hard, if not impossible, to do without it. I cannot wait to get back. I want to ride my bike under the oak trees, see a brass band, get back to law school… And I want to do what I can to help anyone who feels the same.

by Felicity Strachan