In New Orleans the air was muggy, and I had to prepare myself to get back into SUV and travel 400 miles back to Georgia. We loaded the car and drove down a windy ramp to the main road to get our butts back to Atlanta ASAP. Zombies were still standing on their corner begging for life support. Although I was unsure about what they were using it for a clear bottle of the finest whiskey was available at every corner. But it could be a complete mind wrap if they were just poor citizens affected by Katrina, but that was years ago.
I was sure that there were people in the city that recovered after the crisis, they still had their large houses with gates in front. They probably didn’t worry where their next meal was coming from. They lived near Whole Foods and walked their dogs. But as nice as these houses were they didn’t help the aesthetic of the rest of the city; everything else was slums.
I was trying to erase the gross smell of sewage from my head. I didn’t feel I fit into the atmosphere that was partying, drinking, and smoking. I was a good little Christian girl, a description given to me by one of my acquaintances. A street that was over eight blocks long was nothing but an endless club scene that no one told me about; this was supposed to be one of the main attractions. I was trying to wrap my head around what was supposed to be going on. My friends enjoyed themselves while they were here, they liked to party. But what was this place like once the sun came up?
As far as rebuilding goes they had a long way to go. Through all the smells and unique persons stalking the street this city had character, but will it be great again? For most people it still is.