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Memories of New Orleans
(The French Quarter Before Hurricane Katrina By Richard Nowitz / New Orleans Metropolitan Convention And Visitors Bureau)
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It is truly one of my favorite cities in the United States. As soon as New Orleans opens its doors, my friends and I are going there immediately to show our support for those that are rebuilding, to spend our money on masks, beads, drinks, music, hotels and everything else one expects from the Big Easy. * * *
After getting married, we scraped up enough money for a week-long honeymoon to New Orleans. I'll never forget sitting in a cafe in the French Quarter, eating my first oyster po'boy and listening to jazz on the local public radio station with my new husband. We were poor as can be, but I realized that for once in my life I was perfectly happy. I was exactly where I wanted to be in this world and my life was exactly the way I wanted it. I wouldn't have changed a thing.
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I enjoyed a short holiday in New Orleans the week before the hurricane hit. My friend and I marveled at the warmth of the people we met and the general sense of joy that we found. My most poignant memory was of an artist who sold wooden crosses behind the cathedral; each cross had a virtue painted across its horizontal plane ("love," "hope," "faith," etc.). I hope that such virtues prevail over the horrors that those in New Orleans are now experiencing.
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I've been to New Orleans three times -- once for Mardi Gras while in college, once for work and once for a short vacation. I have to say my fondest memories are of the trip I made to New Orleans with my co-workers. How I loved eating beignets at Cafe Du Monde, walking around the Garden District, finding the Anne Rice house with the creepy iron gate surrounding the property, admiring the aquatic life in the aquarium -- and dancing on a rather large stage in front of several thousand people with a collegue and singing along with the zydeco band. Ah, New Orleans.
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My friends and I first went to New Orleans for New Year's 2002. We had a fantastic time. My most recent trip was three weekends ago, just before Katrina hit, with the same group. All of those memories have been running through my head for the past week and a half, from the overwhelming heat and smell waiting for a cab at the airport to the wonderful feeling of the air flowing through the streetcar while traveling past all of the lovely houses. On the way home, I was already making a list of the things and places I wanted to go back to see. I won't discard that list, and I hope that someday I will be able to return.
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