Another entry in my Notes on NOLA series. This is more a series of stories about recovery, going home and the crowd at the Satchmo SummerFest. I also include a follow-up on some of the people I have mentioned in previous installments of the series.
I have returned home to NOLA. It is sooner than I expected. Some personal events played out in a way that made going home sooner possible. When I started my business earlier this year, I incorporated in Louisiana rather than Georgia. It felt right and I wanted my tax dollars going home. Little did I know I would be home in a few short months. I smile when clients ask "Bridge City, LA?". "Gumbo Capital of America" is my stock reply.
Saturday afternoon we went to the Satchmo SummerFest in the French Market. We had been up late the night before searching for the former patrons of the now defunct New Bar. We didn't find them but stayed out until 4 am when they kicked us out of the Masquerade. So Lil Rascals were already warming up as we walked into the market. It was one of those days when you sweat standing still. The beads roll down the gully of your spine into the nether regions below. It was the kind of day where you drink a lot of water or a lot of beer or, maybe, a lot of both. The sky was overcast, but it didn't break the mugginess. The crowd was decent - not huge. We noted that some of the food vendors were selling out of the most popular festival foods. We took that as a good sign.
D and B called us to meet them at the other stage. Trombone Shorty would be on soon and they wanted to see him. We wandered down the French Market and hooked up. They were with some friends - homeless from the badness and needing a break. Shorty was about half way through his set when the rain started falling. The crowd scampered under the scattered awnings in the Market. D grabbed my hand for a little Cajun two-step in the rain. Between spins she asked me "Do you think the sidewalk will steam?" The heat was not that deep. But the rain was cold and the drops were big. We danced through the rest of the set. Soaked through.
When Shorty fired up "When the Saints Go Marching In", D twirled her kerchief like the local she is. The crowd opened up and a rather large woman in a plastic rain coat came dancing through. She was followed by two boys - maybe 7 and 9 and a tiny man with a head full of dreds. The boys were dancing, pumping their umbrellas in the air. The woman and the man were clapping and yelling "Go Babies!!". The crowd was cheering, egging them on. Those boys were getting down. They had more and better moves than anyone in the crowd. D wiped their rain soaked faces with her kerchief. We all hollered as they moved down to the other stage. I was reminded of Mardi Gras when the bartender asked me "Can you feel it?" I felt it on Mardi Gras and I felt at Satchmo. The city coming slowly back to life.
After Shorty's set, we went to Igor's to dry off and debate whether we should throw our clothes in the dryer. We decided to drink cocktails instead. D and B's friends were telling us about life as the dispossessed. The quote that sticks in my mind is "I had a historic house and a Honda Civic. Now I have a Ford Ranger and a trailer. Man, I am really classing up!" We laughed because it is really the only thing you can do. He is a musician and during the evacuation he was playing in places like the Day's Inn in Boute. B said it was "the kind of place where if you yelled 'Bubba, you left your truck's lights on' half the bar would empty". They both mentioned that they spent a lot of time looking around and wondering "How did I end up here?".
D updated us on the eternal saga of the "Dog Truck". The Dog Truck was parked in front of their house during the hurricane. The house took some water in the "basement" - really an unfinished downstairs - so the truck was partially submerged. Whoever owned the truck left a dog in a cage in the back. The cage was covered by a tarp so they found out about the dog when it started to smell. D says "I have to make myself believe that in the heat of the evacuation, whoever left the dog just wasn't thinking and intended to come back and get it." They called hazmat numerous times to come and get the dog. Eventually, the smell got so bad that they pushed the truck up the street. Apparently, the smell was bad for someone else, too. The Dog Truck ended up in the neutral ground. Someone finally came and picked up the dog, but the truck remains. People have filled the bed with all kinds of debris and now the truck can't be moved. Anyone towing the truck would spill trash out of the bed and no one will take the liability. So the Dog Truck sits under a pile of debris in the neutral ground like a monument to the disaster.
For some people things are radically different. We all suspect that my accountant had a nervous breakdown. She was in Slidell and lost everything. Her son lost everything, too. D and B's friends lost everything. And for everyone else there are little things. We are not stocking the fridge like we normally would. Just in case we have to leave. The deep freeze is not full of meat like it used to be. We have kits packed for the next evacuation. We are keeping our schedules more open and staying in close touch with friends along the evacuation route. We have some money set away for hotel rooms and meals. Everyone went back upstairs to make sure the axe placed in the attic after Hurricane Betsy is still there. Just in case. S and Y are stocking up on that Asian hot sauce with the rooster on the label. They took their last bottle with them when they evacuated. They said "We knew we were going to Tennessee but we didn't know what kind of food they would have there. So we took this along to help it out.". They only had room for a few things and one of the things was a giant bottle of hot sauce. How can you not love these people?
L managed to track down Charlene. The house in Bay St. Louis is still standing, but everything below the pylons is gone. Charlene has been in very poor health and her partner is thinking that this weekend will be her last birthday. If you did not read the installment "Things Lost", Charlene is one of the G.O.Ds - or Grand Old Dykes - of the city. Every year they celebrate the anniversary of her 50th birthday with a party. Tomorrow will be the 16th anniversary of her 50th birthday party and everyone is gathering in Bay St. Louis. Unfortunately, I will be in the other LA and can't get there. I would very much like to say good-bye to Charlene. She did a great deal to shape my view of gay rights. She taught me the history on a personal level. When she passes, only one G.O.D will be left and she is still stuck in Houston. Pino passed during the evacuation. The weight of the storm is everywhere.
That is about it for now. I will think of more things as soon as this posts. I will save them for another day. I guess the take-away is that the spirit of the city, as seen at the Satchmo SummerFest, is there, but little things break your heart every day.