This was taken in the French Quarter of New Orleans. It’s an historic jazz club called Preservation Hall. The next series of shots I’ll be posing here will consist of images taken in, around, and outside of this venue.
I wish I could say something funny and clever about the big storm. I wish I could laugh about it. I wish I could be sitting here, writing to you, “I’m so glad all the voodoo saved the French Quarter.” Unfortunately, I cannot. As I write this, the hurricane is still barreling down on New Orleans, and tens of thousands of lives are at risk. Probably most of the French Quarter is under water. The roof of the Superdome, now home to tens of thousands of refugees seeking shelter from the storm, has been partially blown off. The levee has broken (or been compromised) and the storm surge is just starting to crest. It’s a dire situation.
The only consolation that we have is that folks who live near the coast are kind of “used to” hurricanes and we had a little bit of warning-enough for the first 800,000 or so “lucky few” to escape harm’s way.
Today’s hurricane was, in many ways, a “perfect” storm. It was not only perfectly formed, as far as hurricanes go-it was broad and wide across, with a well-defined eye, but it got a lot of media attention. It made us all realize how vulnerable we all are. Even if you don’t live near the coast, you live near snow, or tornadoes, or earthquakes or, well, something.
Nobody can escape the wrath of mother nature, should she set her sights on you. She’s got more tricks up her sleeve than a voodoo queen and, when she unleashes her power, you best hope for her mercy because, from what I can see, Hell hath no fury like a Gulf Coast storm.
Until next time…