Richard Tafoya
Sep 5th, 2005, 02:15 PM
Express News via SanAntonio.com:
http://www.mysanantonio.com/specials/katrina/stories/MYSA090505.24A.katrina_french.89fd85d.html
You know a city has legs when three or four dozen of them are parading down Bourbon Street — some clad in tutus and grass skirts — six days after the most damaging hurricane in American history.
But the annual Southern Decadence parade through the heart of the French Quarter stops for nothing — not even Katrina.
"Hey, we've got to keep our morale up, too," said Jill Sandars, aka "Jelly Sandwich," her "Quarter" name.
Resplendent in a fluffy red skirt, dark hat and small black umbrella, she strutted and sang with 15 to 20 other storm survivors who'd hunkered down in battered but not beaten streets normally associated with bead-throwing at Mardi Gras.
...
"I survived Hurricane Katrina and all I got was this lousy T-shirt," was handwritten on the shirt of a young woman who was wearing a tutu and pulling a bead-laden wagon. Alongside her, marched — ambled actually — a shirtless young man in cut-off shorts, boots and hardhat. The sign he carried read, "Life goes on?"
As the parade moved along, people came out on balconies and threw down beads. On at least one balcony, birthday suits were the uniform of the day.
...
As the Southern Decadence parade meandered past the corner of Orleans and Royal, it passed the fenced garden behind St. Louis Cathedral. A giant oak and magnolia both lay uprooted. It was the largest single scene of devastation in the Quarter.
In the center of the tangle of limbs and broken trunks stood the garden's statue of Jesus, the one with outstretched arms affectionately known to locals as "Touchdown Jesus."
The statue was completely unscathed, except for a broken finger and two broken thumbs. "J'ai confiance en vouz," says the inscription, "I have confidence in you."
At that intersection, a New Orleans cop appeared, held up his own arms and stopped the parade.
"I didn't know Decadence was still on," he said. Parade-goers politely assured him it was.
"Keep your spirits up," he said, and drove away.
His lack of knowledge could easily be forgiven. It's not like phones, TVs or much of anything facilitates conversation. As one habitué of the sports bar said, drinking a warm beer on the sidewalk, "We just can't get any information."
"Yeah," said Ride Hamilton, a longhaired screenwriter who keeps water and medical supplies for the stranded. "And we can't get any strippers, either."
http://www.mysanantonio.com/specials/katrina/stories/MYSA090505.24A.katrina_french.89fd85d.html
You know a city has legs when three or four dozen of them are parading down Bourbon Street — some clad in tutus and grass skirts — six days after the most damaging hurricane in American history.
But the annual Southern Decadence parade through the heart of the French Quarter stops for nothing — not even Katrina.
"Hey, we've got to keep our morale up, too," said Jill Sandars, aka "Jelly Sandwich," her "Quarter" name.
Resplendent in a fluffy red skirt, dark hat and small black umbrella, she strutted and sang with 15 to 20 other storm survivors who'd hunkered down in battered but not beaten streets normally associated with bead-throwing at Mardi Gras.
...
"I survived Hurricane Katrina and all I got was this lousy T-shirt," was handwritten on the shirt of a young woman who was wearing a tutu and pulling a bead-laden wagon. Alongside her, marched — ambled actually — a shirtless young man in cut-off shorts, boots and hardhat. The sign he carried read, "Life goes on?"
As the parade moved along, people came out on balconies and threw down beads. On at least one balcony, birthday suits were the uniform of the day.
...
As the Southern Decadence parade meandered past the corner of Orleans and Royal, it passed the fenced garden behind St. Louis Cathedral. A giant oak and magnolia both lay uprooted. It was the largest single scene of devastation in the Quarter.
In the center of the tangle of limbs and broken trunks stood the garden's statue of Jesus, the one with outstretched arms affectionately known to locals as "Touchdown Jesus."
The statue was completely unscathed, except for a broken finger and two broken thumbs. "J'ai confiance en vouz," says the inscription, "I have confidence in you."
At that intersection, a New Orleans cop appeared, held up his own arms and stopped the parade.
"I didn't know Decadence was still on," he said. Parade-goers politely assured him it was.
"Keep your spirits up," he said, and drove away.
His lack of knowledge could easily be forgiven. It's not like phones, TVs or much of anything facilitates conversation. As one habitué of the sports bar said, drinking a warm beer on the sidewalk, "We just can't get any information."
"Yeah," said Ride Hamilton, a longhaired screenwriter who keeps water and medical supplies for the stranded. "And we can't get any strippers, either."