KATRINA | home
DeGeneres | Miracle at St Paul's | Picking up the Pieces | Trauma and Tragedy | Like Never Again | Kennebunkport | Paradise | Harrowing | No Place Else | East Pass Christian | Back To Nothing | Where's Uncle Earl | Storm of Change | Glimpse of Destruction | Flight to the Attic | Red Cross Journal | What Happened? | DeLisle | Miss New Orleans | Life Saver
Miss New Orleans
Do You Know What It Means to Lose New Orleans?
> By ANNE RICE , La Jolla, Calif. Sep. 5, 2005
> WHAT do people really know about New Orleans?
> Do they take away with them an awareness that it has always bee! n not > only a great white metropolis but also a great black city, a city where > African-Americans have come together again and again to form the strongest > African-American culture in the land?
> The first literary magazine ever published in Louisiana was the work of > black men, French-speaking poets and writers who brought together their > work in three issues of a little book called L'Album Littéraire. That was > in the 1840's, and by that time the city had a prosperous class of free > black artisans, sculptors, businessmen, property owners, skilled laborers > in all fields. Thousands of slaves lived on their own in the city, too, > making a living at various jobs, and sending home a few dollars to their > owners in the country at the end of the month.
> This is not to diminish the horror of the slave market in the middle of > the famous St. Louis Hotel, or the injustice of the slave labor on > plantations from one end of the state to the other. It is merely to say > that it wa! s never all "have or have not" in this strange and beautiful > city.
> Later in the 19th century, as the Irish immigrants poured in by the > thousands, filling the holds of ships that had emptied their cargoes of > cotton in Liverpool, and as the German and Italian immigrants soon > followed, a vital and complex culture emerged. Huge churches went up to > serve the great faith of the city's European-born Catholics; convents and > schools and orphanages were built for the newly arrived and the > struggling; the city expanded in all directions with new neighborhoods of > large, graceful houses, or areas of more humble cottages, even the > smallest of which, with their floor-length shutters and deep-pitched > roofs, possessed an undeniable Caribbean charm.
> Through this all, black culture never declined in Louisiana. In fact, New > Orleans became home to blacks in a way, perhaps, that few other American > cities have ever been. Dillard University and Xavier University became two > of the ! most outstanding black colleges in America; and once the > battles of desegregation had been won, black New Orleanians entered all > levels of life, building a visible middle class that is absent in far too > many Western and Northern American cities to this day.
> The influence of blacks on the music of the city and the nation is too > immense and too well known to be described. It was black musicians coming > down to New Orleans for work who nicknamed the city "the Big Easy" because > it was a place where they could always find a job. But it's not fair to > the nature of New Orleans to think of jazz and the blues as the poor man's > music, or the music of the oppressed.
> Something else was going on in New Orleans. The living was good there. The > clock ticked more slowly; people laughed more easily; people kissed; > people loved; there was joy.
> Which is why so many New Orleanians, black and white, never went north. > They didn't want to leave a place where they f! elt at home in > neighborhoods that dated back centuries; they didn't want to leave > families whose rounds of weddings, births and funerals had become the > fabric of their lives. They didn't want to leave a city where tolerance > had always been able to outweigh prejudice, where patience had always been > able to outweigh rage. They didn't want to leave a place that was theirs.
> And so New Orleans prospered, slowly, unevenly, but surely - home to > Protestants and Catholics, including the Irish parading through the old > neighborhood on St. Patrick's Day as they hand out cabbages and potatoes > and onions to the eager crowds; including the Italians, with their lavish > St. Joseph's altars spread out with cakes and cookies in homes and > restaurants and churches every March; including the uptown traditionalists > who seek to preserve the peace and beauty of the Garden District; > including the Germans with their clubs and traditions; including the black > population playing an ever increasing ! role in the city's civic > affairs.
> Now nature has done what the Civil War couldn't do. Nature has done what > the labor riots of the 1920's couldn't do. Nature had done what "modern > life" with its relentless pursuit of efficiency couldn't do. It has done > what racism couldn't do, and what segregation couldn't do either. Nature > has laid the city waste - with a scope that brings to mind the end of > Pompeii. *
>
> I share this history for a reason - and to answer questions that have > arisen these last few days. Almost as soon as the cameras began panning > over the rooftops, and the helicopters began chopping free those trapped > in their attics, a chorus of voices rose. "Why didn't they leave?" people > asked both on and off camera. "Why did they stay there when they knew a > storm was coming?" One reporter even asked me, "Why do people live in such > a place?"
> Then as conditions became unbearable, the looters took to the streets. > Windows were smashed,! jewelry snatched, stores broken open, water and > food and televisions carried out by fierce and uninhibited crowds.
> Now the voices grew even louder. How could these thieves loot and pillage > in a time of such crisis? How could people shoot one another? Because the > faces of those drowning and the faces of those looting were largely black > faces, race came into the picture. What kind of people are these, the > people of New Orleans, who stay in a city about to be flooded, and then > turn on one another?
> Well, here's an answer. Thousands didn't leave New Orleans because they > couldn't leave. They didn't have the money. They didn't have the vehicles. > They didn't have any place to go. They are the poor, black and white, who > dwell in any city in great numbers; and they did what they felt they could > do - they huddled together in the strongest houses they could find. There > was no way to up and leave and check into the nearest Ramada Inn.
> What's more, thousands! more who could have left stayed behind to help > others. They went out in the helicopters and pulled the survivors off > rooftops; they went through the flooded streets in their boats trying to > gather those they could find. Meanwhile, city officials tried desperately > to alleviate the worsening conditions in the Superdome, while makeshift > shelters and hotels and hospitals struggled.
> And where was everyone else during all this? Oh, help is coming, New > Orleans was told. We are a rich country. Congress is acting. Someone will > come to stop the looting and care for the refugees.
> And it's true: eventually, help did come. But how many times did Gov. > Kathleen Blanco have to say that the situation was desperate? How many > times did Mayor Ray Nagin have to call for aid? Why did America ask a city > cherished by millions and excoriated by some, but ignored by no one, to > fight for its own life for so long? That's my question.
> I know that New Orleans will w! in its fight in the end. I was born in > the city and lived there for many years. It shaped who and what I am. > Never have I experienced a place where people knew more about love, about > family, about loyalty and about getting along than the people of New > Orleans. It is perhaps their very gentleness that gives them their > endurance.
> They will rebuild as they have after storms of the past; and they will > stay in New Orleans because it is where they have always lived, where > their mothers and their fathers lived, where their churches were built by > their ancestors, where their family graves carry names that go back 200 > years. They will stay in New Orleans where they can enjoy a sweetness of > family life that other communities lost long ago.
> But to my country I want to say this: During this crisis you failed us. > You looked down on us; you dismissed our victims; you dismissed us. You > want our Jazz Fest, you want our Mardi Gras, you want our cooking and our > music. Then! when you saw us in real trouble, when you saw a tiny > minority preying on the weak among us, you called us "Sin City," and > turned your backs.
> Well, we are a lot more than all that. And though we may seem the most > exotic, the most atmospheric and, at times, the most downtrodden part of > this land, we are still part of it. We are Americans. We are you.