I met Neil Hendrick at Fat Harrys, which is a local bar/eatery that I used to frequent in college. I noticed a guy at the table next to me using a laptop and asked him about the wifi signal. He was lively and interesting and we wound up getting to be great friends. He’s studying International Development at Tulane, but his day job is creating comics. He’s a writer and a really good one. So I asked him if he’d be interested in posting here, since he has some added perspective on what life is like in post-Katrina New Orleans. And, by that way of introduction, I give you Neil Hendrick:
Greetings and thanks to Ernie, probably the best advocate for his profession. He is surprisingly not covered in the entrails of people he has destroyed to get where he is today, and when he shakes your hand, he doesn’t have any kind of poisonous snakes up his sleeve, which is the way I had pictured real life lawers. Not being from the great city of New Orleans, to me, lawers are nothing more than a cluster of electrons on my television screen…here I find they are as common as fleas on a junkyard dog. So, it’s nice to know Ernie, who seems to be a regular guy.
Ernie asked me if I would like to post some things about life in New Orleans here, and I am more than delighted to do so. You should know that I moved to New Orleans just days before Katrina, and the New Orleans I know is not the New Orleans of Jazz and good times. My Big Easy is a ruin, a city of refrigerators in the street, more Mexican than Black, where a weekend in the French Quarter is oddly listless and lame. My Mississippi is a river bordered by wrecks and detritus, my Garden District an island of normalcy in a sea of uninhabitable neighborhoods, strewn with glass, occupied by houses burned out and trashed. I am coming to know it as a city of survivors, good humored and generous, but the city they remember isn’t anything I know. So, I’ll share here, my discoveries in a city that is to me, all new and full of strange and wonderful adventures.
from the Big Easy,