Desperately in need of a break from it all, my friend, CrankyGirl, traveled to New Orleans this past weekend. (By the way, it’s Miss CrankyGirl to you.)
Cranky had a wonderful time meeting some of the city’s colorful characters but she did make this observation on the eve of the second anniversary of Hurricane Katrina:
“The FEMA trailers are a disaster. They are barely trailers. They are pop-up campers really. New Orleans had a population of 5000,000; now it is 250,000. Half of the retail stores on Canal St. are boarded up. Housing is scarce and unaffordable, as are people who work in the service industry. Drug-related crime is once again [on the rise] because drug dealers are returning and fighting over territory.
One woman told me the worst part about [Hurricane] Katrina was that most residents didn’t leave the French Quarter because it is above sea level. But after a few days, the crack, heroin, and meth addicts started roaming in like zombies from the neighboring drug-infestd neighborhoods because they hadn’t had a fix in a few days. That didn’t really make news.
What an image though.”
Some anniversaries are meant to be mourned not celebrated.