Fans Put Faith in a New Saint

"We just got Jesus in cleats," said LaPlace resident Derrius Taylor to his wife just moments after the Saints made electrifying running back Reggie Bush the No. 2 overall pick in the NFL Draft. (Bill Haber - Associated Press)

Reggie Bush did not watch Katrina. There were more pressing matters in the last semester of his fantasy life than to spend the morning of Aug. 29, 2005, gazing at the destruction of New Orleans. He saw the pictures of the flood, caught some clips on television.

"But when you see it on TV you say, 'Wow that's crazy, that's devastating,' and then you move on," he said.

Everything changed the morning after Emeril's, when the limousine came for Bush again, picking up him and his marketing manager, Mike Ornstein, at the hotel. The Saints had asked the driver, Perry Pittman -- a man who had tried out for the Saints 26 years ago -- to show Bush and Ornstein the damage.

For the next hour, Pittman told Reggie Bush the story of Katrina.

"This is my family's story, basically," Pittman said.

They drove through everything, across the abandoned grid of the Upper Ninth Ward, over the canal to the Lower Ninth where the cars still remain mangled twists of steel, the houses have been wrested from their foundations and the red X's still remain on the fronts, each containing the most vital information: how many dead were found inside.

In the back, Bush and Ornstein said nothing. Pittman kept driving.

There was his uncle's house, smashed by the water from the broken levee just yards behind. There was his aunt's place -- she was swept away, never had a chance. Here was his sister's house: The water had gutted the inside, forced them out on a boat and then a semitrailer and here they are living out front in a white FEMA trailer, photo albums drying in the sun. And yet they say this: The Lord was smiling on them because after all they're still alive.

"It was a sobering ride," Ornstein later said.

Back on the chaise lounge at the Loews Santa Monica, Bush stared out at the ocean. For a moment, he was silent.

"It gave me an opportunity to see what we are playing for," he finally said. "We're not just playing for a championship, we're playing for the city of New Orleans, the fans, the people. The whole city itself is looking at us to lead the city and bring some happiness back."

Suddenly everything made sense -- the faces at Emeril's, the desperation, the people calling him their savior.