Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Winter 2005-2006 - (Page 69)

National Guardsmen on patrol in New Orleans Ninth Ward. were thought to be emanations of friendly or evil gods. Today they are the subject of meticulous scientific studies and have lost their mystery.” Tonight in the dark they are trying to win it back. Hear the banshee shriek and watch the nearby trees — oak and plum and willow and palm — flail about like a fierce and frantic woman being wrist-held by her captor and then don’t be amazed at how many come down but how many ever stay up. The hours struggled along. The day seemed to cling to the dark. Just before dawn, just before it all, time for an act of final desolate defiance. A walk on the slippery back porch, a walk stung by a wind-flogged rain. It’s okay. Power like this should be felt on the skin, in the bones. Later the winds would make noise like a huge pipe organ or an air-horn on a tractor trailer, twenty or thirty seconds at a time. He poured himself some cranberry juice and contrasted the air-horn sounds with the missing rustle of air-conditioning pouring through the vents to flood your world with blessings. How quickly it can all blow away, one to another. He heard a pop-slam from upstairs. At the top of the stairs, a little transom-window had blown open. He worked the little winch trying to close it again, but it stayed blown open. Rain pelted the wall. He hoped this didn’t mean the start of a structural meltdown. By one, maybe two, in the afternoon, the worst was over. He poked around in the darkened refrigerator till he found enough to make a sandwich. A t some point he looked back outside. This time he saw water. Ribbed water, journeying water, water in a hurry to be somewhere else. It was already to his first step and an hour later, second step. Think of the joys of water. The splash of a fountain, the gurgle of a tap, the tickle of a slide. All the pleasures of water leashed. But sometimes the leash gets set aside, or else there is no fear and awe. The houses across the street huddled together in resigned surrender like pups left at the pound by tired-out masters. Everywhere wires roiled and dangled, the civilized spaghetti that usually brought things convenient and communicative, now the hazardous and haphazardous. What he’s seeing Looking out the window and floating by is — what? — two matching legs protruding together from the dark waters spaced about two feet apart, moving steadily down the street with the drifted trash. Winter 2005-06/LOUISIANA CULTURAL VISTAS 69

Table of Contents Feed for the Digital Edition of Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Winter 2005-2006

Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Winter 2005 Contents Letters Editor’s Column Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities Louisiana State Museum After Katrina: “It’s time somebody woke us us up.” Missing New Orleans On Perilous Ground The Buildings of Louisiana (Architectural History by Karen Kingsley) Historic New Orleans Collection Louisiana Association of Museums Back to New Orleans Diary of a Displaced Person Jazz Notes (Music History by Bruce Raeburn) Cradle of the Stars The Terrible and the Brave Bookstand (Book Review by Thomas Uskali) Sound Advice (Music Review by Ben Sandmel) Forum (Commentary by James Lee Burke)

Louisiana Cultural Vistas - Winter 2005-2006

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