But, around town, there were many other things to fear, to regret, to miss, to curse, and to laugh at. It was the most bittersweet homecoming I've had, not least because I don't know who among those at my Thanksgiving table intends to stay in town. New Orleans has begun, in the most tentative way, to be a city again. Langenstein's, our neighborhood grocery, is stocking its shelves, even if it didn't prepare any of its famous turducken for the holiday; restaurants are opening, with limited menus of easy-to-buy ingredients; and bars fill up at night with exasperated hangers-on. But, traversing the debris-clad streets last week, I couldn't help but fear that these cursory signs of recovery won't propel (or reflect) the city's return to cityhood. For one, New Orleans must marshal incredible manpower--and, perhaps more importantly, tame its own worst instincts--to recover. For another, the destruction is almost apocalyptic in scale.
Friday, December 02, 2005
This will help remove the bad taste of that Commentary article.