Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans?

It has been a long time. The sights and sounds of New Orleans had been relegated to the back room of a full middle aged mind. It took a heart wrenching performance by Aaron Neville to bring the memories rushing back. Louisiana 1927, lyrics by Randy Newman, foretold the Hurricane Katrina aftermath with its poignant story from the past:

“What has happened down here is the wind have changed
Clouds roll in from the north and it started to rain
Rained real hard and rained for a real long time
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline

The river rose all day
The river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood
Some people got away alright
The river have busted through clear down to Plaquemines
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangelne

Louisiana, Louisiana
They’re tryin’ to wash us away; They’re tryin’ to wash us away.”

The memory of days long past rushed to meet the present as fabulous New Orleans jazz musicians continued the Hurricane Relief performance. Those sounds, so long forgotten, were suddenly familiar and welcome. The sad thought entered my mind that there were now probably millions of Americans who would never hear those sounds in a French Quarter jazz club. But let me take you back decades in time.

It was the 60’s – a great time and an awful time to be young and in college. There are eery similarities to today. An awful political war was raging afar, draining our resources and killing our boys. College deferment from the draft, which required continuing good grades, saved many. But those who partied freshman year lost that deferment. Many were helicopter pilots in Viet Nam sophomore year. The news each night began with body counts. Even more frightening were the pictures of protesting college students gunned down at Kent State University. Such trying times required periods of R&R, not just for the military, but also for college students.

It didn’t take a lot of convincing when the phrase “boiled shrimp” was circulated down the hall of Rice Dorm at Mississippi State University. The immediate response was “New Orleans!” Someone’s car would soon be packed with coeds excited about the fact that the French Quarter was only hours away.

The New Orleans of the 60’s was a paradise for college students. During that period of time French Quarters establishments required little identification other than hard cold cash. Food and drink, along with gasoline to reach its streets, were cheap and plentiful.

Upon reaching the French Quarters, one’s first stop was the requisite boiled shrimp – a food not easily found in northwest Mississippi. That immediate need met, the next step would be to visit the clubs and jazz establishments of the French Quarters. No matter the time of year, there were always college students from other parts of the country. Frat boys from Tulane were happy to escort Mississippi State coeds on their night on the town. Around sun-up the establishments of the French Quarters would close for a short time as the streets were washed down and prepared for the coming day. Tired college students would then choose to end their visit with the fabulous beignets and café au lait that are such a New Orleans tradition.

College days soon gave way to French Quarter vacations with individuals long banished from one’s memory. Then time moved on. And one’s life moved on. The excitement of New Orleans was forgotten in adult life – that is, until the sheer existence of its treasures was threatened by a menace over which its people had no control. It took a tragedy and a song to bring it all back.

An awful thought has entered my mind that I can’t put away. Are the elderly people dying in the hospitals and street corners of New Orleans some of the talented jazz musicians I heard perform in the 60’s?

Its time for all the resources of our great nation to be brought into service to save the people of New Orleans and Mississippi. There is no greater need.

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