Scenes from NO
Driving into New Orleans at night , the city looks like most others from a distance. There are large hotels with their emblems shining brightly, the red and white streams of car lights, etc. But one glance out the side window reminds you that something awful happened here. Overpasses littered with evidence that people lived, and feared, and suffered on these roads - a baby toy here, a shoe there, filthy clothes, and a few too few empty water bottles. Looking at the Superdome doesn't bring thoughts of touchdowns and tailgating, but things much more ominous. The area around our worksites still had no electricity, and the devastation can't even be understood fully in photos, because there is also this strange odor, this eeriness that is difficult to explain. I see cleanup crews and wonder how they manage to drag themselves to work. This work has a beginning, but it's impossible to see the end.
Amazingly, many people we met are determined and almost optimistic. Folks just trying to do their job or to scrape out a new life take time to advise us of the animals they see roaming the streets, some expressing genuine concern for the health of the animals. Many displaced people even tipped their hats to the animal rescue effort. Our hats off to them.
