A little Tom Waits to pay tribute...
Well I wish I was in New Orleans
I can see it in my dreams
Arm in arm down Burgundy
A bottle and my friends and me
Hoist up a few tall cool ones
Play some pool and listen to that
Tenor saxaphone calling me home
And I can hear the band begin
When The Saints Go Marching In
By the whiskers on my chin
New Orleans I'll be there
I'll drink you under the table
Be red nose go for walks
The old haunts what I wants
Is red beans and rice
And wear the dress I like so well
Meet me at the old saloon
Make sure there's a Dixie moon
New Orleans I'll be there
And deal the cards roll the dice
If it ain't that ole Chuck E. Weiss
And Clayborn Avenue me and you
Sam Jones and all
And I wish I was in New Orleans
I can see it in my dreams
Arm in arm down Burgundy
A bottle and my friends and me
New Orleans I'll be there
I used to live in New Orleans, in the Ninth Ward. My house was a half mile down the road on the left in this image:

we went arm in arm down Burgundy... New Orleans was a tough town to live in, but it was harder to leave, and when I left I think I left a piece of myself there. All week I've felt like I should be there. All my friends got out safe, and I would certainly be of little use in helping anyone, but still it beckons. Well, I'm not going, but for now I have my song, and my faith that I will go there again someday, and see a rebuilt city, with new facades and new faces to be sure, but also many of the old places and faces that made it what it was.
"By the whiskers on my chin
New Orleans will be there"
p.s - James Edward Watkins, I know you made. I know you survived.