Thoughts on Politicians

Mayor C. Ray Nagin
I like him. I voted for him. I think he did a great job, pre and post-Katrina. The man begged and pleaded for the people of New Orleans to evacuate. He told us that the Superdome was a SHELTER OF LAST RESORT. He asked us to check on the elderly, church members, neighbors and anyone without transportation. He sent busses intot different areas to bring people to the Superdome if they had no other place to go. Again, he told us to get out. He told us that this could be the big one. Many responded accordingly. Some didn't. Some couldn't. But he did what he could with what he had and I don't think anyone would have done any better in his situation. Barring some crazy events or revelations, I'm going to vote for him again.

Governor Kathleen Babineaux-Blanco
I don't know much about her other than the fact that she is not very well connected in Washington, D.C. Sometimes she seems a less-than-competent but as time passes, my distaste for her lessens. Like mayor Nagin, I believe she's doing her best. I don't hold her in very high regard but I don't think she's an idiot.

President George W. Bush
I think he is an idiot. I agree with his stance on abortion and that's it. I voted for Al Gore and John Kerry. I probably would have voted for anyone else had Bush been the only other option. The hurricane situation just supports my belief that although he may mean well, George Bush is not suitable material for a president...of anything. I wouldn't put him on a local school board. Forget the facts that he has no problem spending money that the government does not have and that he spends much of said money on his so called "anti-terrorism" policies and not on the people of this country who could actually use it. Ignore his ignorance to what is really going on around him and just ponder this. Our president, who invented a "war on terror", who is illegally detaining who knows how many suspected terrorists, who invaded a nation because of it's so-called "links to terrorists", wants to put six of our nations main ports, including the Port of New Orleans, under the control of a company based in the United Arab Emirates, a nation that many say harbors terrorists. First of all, why does everything have to be outsourced. I know that many companies in the U.S. have shady tendencies but they are our own. They pay taxes (at least a little bit) and they employ American citizens (hypothetically.) It just seems very hypocritical for a man who is so proud of himself for protecting Americans from terrorism (and the governments that allow it) to put our ports in the hands of possible terrorists. I hate that I sound like such a racist, but really, does this make sense? Here's a thought...put Americans in charge of American ports. Just don't put them under the Department of Homeland Security. We've already seen what that move has done to FEMA.

Sad for My City

I am terribly sad for my city. I am not a New Orleans native. I came here 10 years ago to attend Tulane University. During my time at Tulane I fell in love with New Orleans and a particular New Orleanian from an area of the city he affectionately calls, "The Best Bank." Soon after our marriage we left New Orleans. I had grown tired of the dead end job market. He wanted to be free of the multitude of issues that daily plague a young, Black man born and raised in New Orleans lower class.
Three years and two children later we decided there really is no place like home. We returned to New Orleans (the West Bank of course) in July 2005. We hadn't finished unpacking our belongings when we had to repack a few things for what we believed would be a weekend evacuation trip.
First we drove for three hours to my brother-in-laws home in LaPlace. After seeing constant news reports of the mayor and officials from local parishes BEGGING citizens to evacuate, weather reports showing a storm that filled the entire gulf and traffic reports explaining contra-flow routes we decided that LaPlace was too close to the gulf. We then drove for thirteen hours, with our three-year-old and three-month-old daughters, to my friends’ house in Monroe, LA.
We watched the storm and the crisis that followed on television. For several days we didn’t know what to think, but as we recognized where the water came from we felt a glimmer of hope. If the levies on the West Bank held up, our home should be safe from the flood. My husband snuck into Algiers by way of I-310 about two weeks after the storm. He found that many of our neighbors, like so many others in the area, had never left. He found that there were downed trees and power lines everywhere. He found that every business establishment was closed and the closest available grocery store was in Westwego. He found that except for a destroyed back yard fence, warped rain gutters, a destroyed above ground pool and a pile of tree branches piled six feet high, blocking our front door, our home was just as we had left it. We returned to our home a few days before Hurricane Rita hit the other side of the state.
Like the others who returned, we put our refrigerator on the curb. We went to Mardi Gras world for donated water, ice, baby food, toilet tissue, diapers, wipes, canned goods, MRE’s, cleaning supplies, toothpaste, soap and anything else that we would normally buy if stores were open. We got accustomed to seeing blue roofs, giant military vehicles, police and fire officials from all over the country, and garbage and debris piled high on curbs. Neighbors shared where to find health care, Red Cross locations and places to pick up donated goods. We all frequented St. Mary’s Place on General Meyer, the Arthur Monday Center and the little place on Atlantic Avenue. We felt like help was coming, slowly but surely.
Now trailers (bought by FEMA or otherwise) are replacing refrigerators as front yard ornamentation and the once crisp, blue roof tarps are becoming as weather-beaten as the homes they cover. Several schools have reopened and people who rarely ventured “all the way across the river” are shopping for homes in Algiers. Winn-Dixie, Wal-mart and most businesses in this area have reopened, as has my husband’s job, so we have health insurance again. On New Orleans' West Bank life is returning to something nearly normal. Compared to hundreds of thousands of people who once called New Orleans home I have little to complain about. So why do I feel so sad?
I feel sad because I miss the people who are not as fortunate as we are. I don’t just miss my friends who relocated to Texas because they lost both their new home in the East and their new restaurant on Canal Street. I don’t just miss my father-in-law who moved to Minnesota after having six feet of water in his Hollygrove home. I miss EVERYONE. I miss the people being forced out of hotels with no place to go, the people staying with relatives, the people in trailer cities in other parishes, the people flown and bussed to places like Philadelphia, Houston, Atlanta and Omaha. I miss the people who lived in projects, Creole cottages, shotgun houses, apartment complexes, renovated slave quarters, stately mansions and regular ranch-style homes. I miss the Jackson Square artists and performers, the young women with hair styles that are impossible to describe, the old men sitting outside playing chess and the children who use the same slang as their grandparents. I don’t know who they are or where they are but I am sad because I miss them terribly and I fear that they will never return. They are the salt of the earth and without them our city will lose it’s flavor. Then the entire world will truly know what it means to miss New Orleans. I am just terribly sad for my city.