If you look closely at the left (viewer's left) of the door you probably can make out the still visible Katrina rescue markings. But just to help you out, here is a photo of the same door I took in 2006.
Much like I did 10 years ago, I've been going around town this month revisiting scenes I photographed after Katrina to mark... progress isn't really the word, is it? The passage of time, then. These photos, in particular, illustrate what I mean by that. Does 1634 Third Street look like it's fared well over the course of 20 years? Probably not from this view. I could offer a more complex perspective on that but it's really a topic for a different post. Anyway, I don't live there anymore.
I did have a few thoughts on it, and a few other things, to share for this Katrina roundtable in the latest Southern Cultures, though. Fair warning, there will be more about the post-K 20 years in the next Ban Mayors chapter as well. After that, I'd like to say we can shut up about it for a while. But I don't think we can.
Katrina was, is, and will always be the central event of my life. Everything since is a direct result. Everything I've tried to do or be is a direct reaction. The unfortunate thing I've learned is that nothing I do or could do would ever make a difference. But also I can't and won't choose to anything differently.
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