Friday, December 02, 2005
Great NYTimes article about residents returning to lower 9th
This is in the quick hits below, but it deserves a 2nd mention. The quotes from the people returning to their tight-knit community are very moving:
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On Aug. 28, when Mrs. Butler fled the oncoming storm with nothing but an overnight bag, she left the house built by her late husband, Cherry Field Butler, in the care of a guardian angel made of stone. One hundred and one days later, on Thursday, she found a way to focus her grief. "My angel," she said, her voice breaking. "My angel is gone."
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"It's just like going to a funeral," said George Hill, 66, who surveyed his wrecked house on Delery Street with a pinched face. "We're coming to view the body. "
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"What are you going to do, drive down from Houston every few weeks to stock up on red beans and butter beans and pickle meat?" Ms. Gutelius asked him. "You ain't going nowhere. You're homegrown. You were raised up here, and this is your neighborhood."
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"How you doing, neighbor?" she called to Mr. Hill. The little green house that belonged to her mother, Mabel, 82, had sailed off its foundations, landing a couple of blocks away, but Ms. Jones was taking it in stride. "We don't got no house," she said, "but we're all alive and well."
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Mrs. Butler said she could not bear to be away from New Orleans when her family relocated to Myrtle Beach, S.C. after the hurricane. She lasted there about two weeks, then took a bus home and stayed at the Marriott Hotel with her niece, who is a housekeeper there. Thursday, she fought back tears repeatedly. "It hurts so bad," she said, "to look at everything we built gone. I just don't know what I'm going to do now."
Full article here
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On Aug. 28, when Mrs. Butler fled the oncoming storm with nothing but an overnight bag, she left the house built by her late husband, Cherry Field Butler, in the care of a guardian angel made of stone. One hundred and one days later, on Thursday, she found a way to focus her grief. "My angel," she said, her voice breaking. "My angel is gone."
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"It's just like going to a funeral," said George Hill, 66, who surveyed his wrecked house on Delery Street with a pinched face. "We're coming to view the body. "
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"What are you going to do, drive down from Houston every few weeks to stock up on red beans and butter beans and pickle meat?" Ms. Gutelius asked him. "You ain't going nowhere. You're homegrown. You were raised up here, and this is your neighborhood."
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"How you doing, neighbor?" she called to Mr. Hill. The little green house that belonged to her mother, Mabel, 82, had sailed off its foundations, landing a couple of blocks away, but Ms. Jones was taking it in stride. "We don't got no house," she said, "but we're all alive and well."
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Mrs. Butler said she could not bear to be away from New Orleans when her family relocated to Myrtle Beach, S.C. after the hurricane. She lasted there about two weeks, then took a bus home and stayed at the Marriott Hotel with her niece, who is a housekeeper there. Thursday, she fought back tears repeatedly. "It hurts so bad," she said, "to look at everything we built gone. I just don't know what I'm going to do now."
Full article here
# posted by Jude Boudreaux @ 12/02/2005 06:49:00 AM 
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I don't subscribe to the NY Times, so thanks for posting these. I love the pickle meat comment. Something I learned to love in the South is greens made with pickled pork and plenty of pot likker.
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