Still waiting... still watching
Dear Reader, the season of Advent is upon us. Many New Orleanians behold this time of year solemnly. We are blessed with breezy, balmy Sundays; and much more compelled by the power of love in the chill, and A/C hum-less still of the night.
Looking back, I am reminded that it was in this time of year when I returned to my home, after having been away for three months... displaced by the storm. For the record: I walked out of my front door (for the 2nd time, grabbing some CD sounzz... to keep us swingin';) it was in the late-afternoon of Sunday, August 28th, 2005.
I walked back thru the same door, early in the morning Tuesday, November 29th, the same year. I can laugh at myself: I, apparently in my haste... had left with the back door closed tho unlocked. Thusly, moving wild as the wind, I had a h*** in my bucket... blown open by the forces of Nature.
Fortunately, goodness prevailed. On higher ground, my home was not flooded by the faults of man. My home was not raided, looted, or commandeered. Only my neighbors, Peggy & Don (they never left) helped themselves to whatever was left in the pantry. They stayed to watch over their creatures - a couple of not too social dogs, a seldom egg-producing chicken, and a gang of cool cats. Peggy also sheltered two elderly aunts who "evacuated up" from deeper in the bowl.
They are good neighbors; and I am thankful that my distant situation turned out to be of some help to them. They were able to make some use of the bathtub full of water which I had also left – as I thought: I might need upon my return... in a few days or so... to flush my toilet. Peggy smirked when she told me how she discovered that I had slightly bleached the water. Seems like you can get a... weird little buzz from drinking water treated in such fashion. I will add my guess that: It was shortly thereafter when Don began draining all of the hot water heaters on our block that were not flood tainted.
Nevertheless... were are here because of Mr. Danny Barker. Some of you are familiar with the house on Sere Street. (For those wondering, the pronunciation is: See-er.) Old Danny did see many things there in that home, his castle for 30 "Autumn years" – the number over the door, 1277.
I for one would like to see his and Lu's house rebuilt into a learning center - a living museum of Jazz. There is yet much still remaining in the house. Not quite the way Danny, Lu, or Sylvia – “The daughter” left it but... Perhaps there is a story yet to be told about life on Sere Street. Although I have not viewed the house in a few months, I can say with some assurance that today's story of 1277 Sere Sreet... is the story of The Prevalence Of Plant Life.
May I add: that there are many houses in various parts of New Orleans still in the same or similar condition. Some citizens of The City That Care Forgot are yet, “trying to get back in my house.” Oh... it was
a blessed feeling to lay my head down on my pillow... late in the afternoon on the day that I returned home! I remain blessed in my home, sweet home.
With all of that said: May you and I now enter into a Mindfulness? A connection of Consciousness... A Healing thought of safe returns home: For all displaced New Orleanians... For our soldiers fighting in foreign lands... For those on the streets of America. As Mr. Barker once did before the Xavier Students, may we now call upon a great American: spiritualist, herbalist, and social activist, Marie Laveau – and her powers.
She was not
a mythical creature!
Peace & Pops,
Maison Musique, New Orleans
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