Tom Kelly
Editor and Publisher

Once upon a time there was a Little Red Hen. She found a grain of wheat . . . every kid knows the story: she asked around the barnyard for help to plow, plant, and harvest the grain. "Not I, Not I!" said each of the farm yard slackers when asked to pitch in. But then,"I will! I will!" was the answer when she asked who would eat the bread. "Uh Uh!" said the Little Red Hen. "I will eat the bread."

Somehow this story pops into my mind when I remember what has happened to Louisiana in the long-running Hurricane Katrina story. Oh, you say, but that's old news! Happened, when? way back at the end of August, two-thousand-and-five, for cryin' out loud. Coming up on nearly two years ago. Get a life! Move on! And all the FEMA jokes. The Ray Nagin stories. The Kathleen Blanco stories. Sheesh! Wasn't she something! Look at Mississippi, how well they did . . . Why couldn't we; she; they be like them . . . Why, indeed.

I know; I've said the same things myself. In a world where gas is nearing $3.00, Hillary and Obama are slugging it out in the heartland for zillions in campaign cash, and what's-his-name got kicked off American Idol, who has time to think about New Orleans? We here in North Louisiana think only philosophically if at all about people, places, and events beyond Punkin Center and Catfish Heaven. The Storm missed us, and that's just fine. Why don't they stop bellyaching and get over it?

Read the paper. Watch the News. Ain't there, is it?

I repented of my forgetfulness last month when Miriam and I made a one-day trip to New Orleans to drop off a set of books at the Tulane University library. (Separate story). This was one of less than a handful of times we had seen the area where we spent most of the 1980s, and the only one since Katrina blew away a lot of the landscape that we rambled in while hanging around Slidell. Traveling out St. Charles Ave. and back, across Canal Street through the French Quarter, out Esplanade to Metairie, back up Veterans Blvd. to our favorite crawfish joint, life appeared normal. It was when we headed out I-10 toward Slidell, across the high-rise bridges over Chef Menteur Blvd. and the Industrial Canal through New Orleans East that it dawned on us . . . something is badly wrong here. (I am reminded of the line by a young Ronald Reagan, in that old 40's movie, Kings Row, "Where's the rest of me?")Through miles of middle-class houses, apartment buildings, and occasional shpping malls, we passed almost no live, moving human beings. Hundreds, probably thousands, of what had been occupied residences stand vacant, some boarded up, some showing other signs of abandonment. Mile after mile. To the left in the distance is the rim of Lake Pontchartrain, and the infamous canals. To the right in the distance across the Industrial Canal, is the infamous Ninth Ward, Chalmette, St. Bernard, Arabi. Plaquemine Parish. The Gulf marshes. And what, I ask myself, would I do here if I were Mayor of New Orleans, or Governor of Louisiana, or Parish President. Or Joe Citizen, with a lifetime invested in a way of life that is no longer there, and may never be again?

One conclusion I believe I can safely make: The Cavalry ain't coming. Help is not on the way. Like the Color Sergeant advised the frightened Private who asked while awaiting the charge of a mass of tribal warriors in the classic movie, "Zulu," "Why us?" . . . "Because we're here. Just us." Translation: The solution is up to us.

As fellow citizens of Louisiana, including those Louisianians who are still trying to find the way back home, we should not forget to help, and at least to have sympathy for those public officials and private citizens who are tolerating a lot of second guessing while continuing to sort out the almost impossible task of getting people back into their homes, even as we speak.

I refer to the following paragraph from a statement we published about the Katrina situation while the topic was still current:

Make crisis a time to upgrade Louisiana

In spite of what we might wish, Louisiana faces a rebuilding task that is daunting. It will not happen overnight, and not without some missteps. Population of the New Orleans metropolitan area will remain diminished for an indeterminate future; business will take a long time returning to pre-Katrina levels; tax money for support of critical and vital state services will be strained; our representation in Congress will very likely be decreased by the next census, and there will come a time when Congress and other regions of the country will suffer "New Orleans Fatigue." We must rely on our own wits, resources, and commitment to each other in the final analysis to make things better in Louisiana.

PWJ; November 2005

Misa est. Dominus vobiscum.

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