new 'awlins

New Orleans has a spring in its step, it seems. Much more so than the last time we were here, that’s for sure.

We came down to visit Sam and Abbie and see the cute new first home they just purchased.

This part of N’awlins appears to have breathed a huge, collective, neighborhood-wide sigh of relief.

Around seventy five percent of the pre-Katrina population has re-established residency in the city. Tulane received 40,000 applications for this year’s freshman class. The streetcars are up and running. There are more restaurants here now than before the storm.


I walked/ran along the streetcar route early this morning (early to avoid the oppressive heat and humidity and did not achieve any sort of avoidance at all.) The streetcars are clankier and way more authentic than the streamlined Czech-designed 21st century ones I love to photograph in Portland. New Orleans has the world’s oldest continuously operating streetcar line, dating back to 1835 when it was horse-drawn. The cars that run today were built in the mid to early 1920’s. Joggers run in between the tracks in the area that I would call the median but that people from around here call the “neutral ground.” When the streetcar begins to approach, the driver clangs a bell, and the joggers move out of the way to let it pass.


There are purple, gold and green beads strewn all along the way, as this is the Mardi Gras parade route. They hang from the trees and utility lines like Hawaiian leis. Glistening in the sun this morning, they seemed to serve as a reminder that the party never ended (ends.)






I love the way residents in this neighborhood decorate their windows and front porches. Signs like this appear every few blocks. This one, courtesy of the adorable nieces, is on Abbie and Sam’s front door.


I love the warm and politely southern nature of the folks who call New Orleans home. On my walk/run, everyone said hello as we passed. People from the streetcar waved from their windows. People on porches did, too. A car full of young men drove a little too close to me at a cross street and then called out the window, “Sorry ‘bout that, MA’AM.”

In spite of the fact that Ray Nagin has hopped aboard the wagon-gone-corrupt (following in the footsteps of so many New Orleans politicians); in spite of the fact that the 9th Ward and so many other parts of the city are still in ruins; despite the fact that the next big hurricane could bring The Big Easy to its knees once again, things are looking up around these parts. Thousands of recent college graduates are flocking here to teach, to volunteer, to intern, to contribute to the economy. A lot of musicians have returned.

In spite of the sweat that is cascading down the back of my neck this morning, I’m really happy to be here.