Today is a day I always remember. August 29, the anniversary of when Hurricane Katrina hit. Today is the 9th anniversary.

Most people on the Gulf Coast remember today like our parents remember when JFK was shot or when Pearl Harbor happened. It’s a date that changed people’s lives.

I’m proud of my home town for its ability to be resilient in the face of destruction and hopelessness. I’m upset that many things still haven’t come back, and many people decided not to. Most of all, I sit in reverent silence and am thankful for my friends and family.

I wrote a poem after Katrina happened – today I share it with you. It’s on the Freebies page of my website. Click here to read it.

We are coming up on the 9th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, on August 29.

Some of my local friends down in New Orleans sent me this link that shows the city then and now. The only real visual of this I saw in person was the big pile of garbage in Lakeview. That stayed there for several months afterward.

Keep remembering. Keep New Orleans safe :)

FYI – next year (2015) on Aug 29, I plan to release a women’s fiction novel about 2 sisters in the aftermath of Katrina and how they view the city. So stay tuned!

Hello all,

Well, the day is here. August 29, a day that will leave in infamy (at least for me and many Gulf Coast residents). The day Hurricane Katrina hit the coast of Mississippi, followed by the levees breaking in New Orleans. Hundreds were killed, thousands lost their homes and property, even more had to relocate and/or start over.

In the midst of the aftermath, I wrote a poem about New Orleans. Even though I no longer live there, I did grow up there. I miss all the beautiful parts of New Orleans, or NOLA as she often called with affection. This poem was my letter, my means of handling all the grief and sadness for my hometown. I hope you enjoy –

The Lonely Saxophone

copyright 2005-2013 Elaine Calloway

The saxophone’s melancholy notes dance in the humid air like lightning bugs flitting about in summertime. The musician is nowhere to be seen, but his music can be faintly heard along the lazy Mississippi River. The rich, slow music is the heartbeat of New Orleans, this port city surrounded by water. The Big Easy.

As the city awakens, noises fill the air but the saxophone still plays. The Creole Queen riverboat makes a loud whistle as she takes tourists down the river. Mounds of crawfish, shrimp, and spicy seafood abound here. Clapping visitors surround street performers in Jackson Square, wanting to see their favorite acts. Horse-drawn carriages make the ‘clop clop’ sound down the narrow French Quarter streets.

As my spirit absorbs these surroundings, I smile as I listen to the sad notes of a lonely saxophone, playing faintly as a constant backdrop to my home. The tunes may change, but the music goes on.

Black iron gates flank the streets in this Crescent City. Cherry-red geraniums bloom in decorative pots, and window boxes attempt to contain flowers bursting with pink, white, and purple. The flowers and the ivy cascade from the black iron balconies; they look like children dangling their feet before taking a swim.

The spirit of New Orleans – its people and its music – welcomes them all. At the time, I believe that the music will never stop.

On August 29, I was proven wrong. Katrina’s fury drowned the city’s own and the heart of New Orleans stopped beating. Cries for help and sobbing remained.

I gasp back tears as I see the rusted saxophone start to sink, its hollow insides consumed with Katrina’s waters. I hope that one day I can hear the music again. Until then, the absence of the lonely saxophone is deafening.

 

Someone on Twitter shared this link from the Times Picayune, the New Orleans newspaper. It is definitely worth a read; it brought tears to my eyes. Especially as we are approaching the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina on August 29. Read the article here.