I'll admit it. I didn't think about New Orleans unless it was Fat Tuesday. I am 1500 miles away, in a high altitude city, in the desert southwest, where water is so scarce it's like gold. I had no interest or inkling of thought about New Orleans. My background has nothing in common with that city. I had no friends there, no family, I had never traveled there, nor had any intention to travel there anytime soon. Nothing.
Five years later, my life and the lives of every American has been changed. Whether you have been there or not, you have seen the photos, heard the stories, listened to the news, saw the headlines, maybe even met someone who had to escape from that city. You know about New Orleans now. There is no escaping it. Just like the feeling you get from hearing "September 11th" spoken aloud, you know something is important about August 29th. There is no need to explain "Katrina" to anyone. I am sure if you did a study of names given to children, Katrina has dropped far from its previous spot. Katrina has become synonymous with not only the hurricane of all hurricanes, but a general lack of infrastructure and communication in our government. It has become a loaded word for slow response in government. "They don't want to make this Obama's Katrina." It has that kind of power.
But I still see Katrina from an outsiders perspective. I haven't rebuilt homes, no one has moved in next door who had to leave everything behind, I didn't see the devastation first hand. My dad served in San Antonio, in a shelter for displaced individuals after Katrina and the lesser remembered, Rita. He was there for weeks and he has the cliche shirt to show for it.
I was in New Orleans a month ago. The LCMS National Youth Gathering descended on the city for a week of uplifting worship. About 12,000 youth went to help in the ninth ward to make the endless work still left a little easier for someone else. But I wasn't there as I was assigned a different task. What I can say is that I am interested in the people of that city more than ever. While our youth were living the dream at the Convention Center and the Superdome, there are thousands who may never look at those places the same way. Those are the people who had to endure hot, humid temperatures with little water and not a clue as to when the nightmare will end. They left a flooded home behind, narrowly escaping with the shirts on their backs to be dropped off by boat or helicopter or bus and had to wait for what? Because as far as they knew, no one was coming to save them. I walked in the paths that they walked in. I sat in the seats of the Superdome that they slept in. We were excited to go into the home of the Superbowl winning Saints (Who Dat!?), but those individuals, their families, their children and grandmothers and grandfathers, brothers, sisters and friends will never see the Superdome as just the home of the Saints. I can understand that now.
A month ago, I left New Orleans and it was a city with a dark past. I see New Orleans now, after seeing all the photos and hearing the stories this week, as a city with a bright future. I was annoyed with the obnoxious and vain pride that the city had in the football team. It was annoying to see "Who Dat" emblazoned everywhere. It seemed like they were rubbing it in everyone's face. But I understand now that that is the bright spot in so much gloom. After four and a half years, they found something to rally around. When these people enter heaven, God is going to judge them for the heart and character they had through so much adversity. When humans let them down, God never gave up and you can find that in the alleys and walkways of the emerging New Orleans.
NATRA Strava Weekly Run Miles
4 years ago
