By David Van Deusen
“I've got no time for talking. I've got to keep on walking. N. O. is my home”
-Walkin’ To New Orleans
New Orleans, September 9, 2005 - The destruction laid upon New Orleans and the surrounding region has been devastating. Many sections of the city continue to be submerged in toxic waters. Countless streets are impassable due to debris and flooding. The military has begun house-to-house searches hoping to find survivors, but are mostly finding otherwise. It is estimated that thousands are dead. Corpses dwell in the putrid floodwaters, and in the ruined homes in which they once lived. Electricity is still out.
New Orleans resident Mike Powls, 46, sits and has a drink in Molly’s, one of the two bars open in the French Quarter. When asked about the time immediately following the hurricane, Mike says, “the first week after Katrina, for all practical purposes, capital property relations disappeared in New Orleans.”
The breakdown in the established order was compounded by a four to six day lull between Katrina and the arrival of federal aid. For some communities, especially the low lying ones, this spelled absolute disaster. For neighborhoods that were fortunate enough to escape flooding, there was still the desperate need to find drinking water and food.
In the French Quarter, which had no water damage, people acted fast. Within 48 hours, residents formed ad hoc community centers and created new organizations to try and address their acute needs.
Today it is estimated by neighborhood leaders that 200-300 people remain in the quarter. Like other parts of the region, living conditions are bad, but they are getting by in part because of the unity demonstrated by these residents.
Public Houses
Two community centers have risen out of this storm. Both are old wooden pubs. One is Molly’s at The Market on Decatur Street; the other is Johnny White’s on Bourbon Street. The former is open every day from 11am-6pm, and serves as a place for people to get together to exchange knowledge and resources. The latter does this too, but has evolved into a kind of shelter/supply depot/first aid station.
“We are the community center. It started out as just a bar and then people started bringing food here. People started bringing clothes and water. Suddenly, it became a soup kitchen and a homeless center,” said Johnny White’s bartender Joe Bellamy, a former Para-rescuer in the Air Force.
Many of the supplies are donated by residents. It is common, when a person decides to evacuate, for them to drop off their useful belongings to one of these centers. In the last few days, they have also been receiving goods from the National Guard and Army. Even so, much of what comes in has been “looted”. However, few take issue with people acquiring basic necessities through whatever means available to them. Ride Hamilton, 29, a network analyst and artist, who himself has acquired a large assortment of basic necessities, had this to say: “you go down to places… that [has] already been broken into, I’ve never broken into a place, but you go in after the people and usually if they open up… police take supplies they want first, then they guard it as other people go in and that’s where I get all of my things”.
On a typical day, the tavern provides services for dozens of residents, and until recently was one of the only places where people could receive first aid, administered by Bellamy, Hamilton, and other volunteers. Hamilton’s efforts include stitching up an ear with a sewing needle and fishing line.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re gay, straight, no matter race, religion, no matter what your personal beliefs are, you come in and need some food- you’re getting it. You need some water- you’re getting it,” said Bellamy
People’s Organizations
Beyond these two community centers, new people’s organizations have coalesced around a grassroots recovery effort. One, commonly known as The Red Shirts came together as a band of ten people who set out to clean the streets of the French Quarter and administer first aid to any in need. This group continues to hit the streets, wearing their trademark red, and impressing many with their self-imposed twelve-hour shifts. To date, their most impressive achievements were the cleaning of the wrecked Jackson Square, and the removal of a fallen brick wall.
Thai Watford, a member of the group, stated, “we found a brick wall that was completely collapsed into the street. It was impassable except maybe by a hummer… brick by brick we picked up that wall and stacked them against this building on the sidewalk.”
The Red Shirts aren’t the only new organization in town. Restore the French Quarter (RFQ) came together shortly after the levies broke. RFQ, which includes forty volunteers, has cleared their share of down trees and rubbage. One of their fist acts was to make Esplanade, a major street marking the border of the neighborhood, passable by vehicle.
Beyond cleaning, the group has built a public stockpile of necessary items. These include food, water, tools, clothes, etc. the goods and the organization are located in a makeshift headquarters on the corner of Esplanade and Decatur. HQ is a nine thousand square foot three story building owned by actor Harry Anderson of Night Court fame. It is equipped with generators, a fully stocked bar, and a large gas grill. RFQ has gone the extra step of stenciling white “RFQ Volunteer” t-shirts, printing professional looking ID badges, and writing and producing a mission statement.
Standing in the HQ courtyard, RFQ member “Steve”, who works in construction, declared that the groups’ initial action was shortly after the disaster struck. Their first priority was to help distribute guns and ammunition to area residents to use in self-defense. Since then they have turned their attention to fixing roads and keeping people fed.
RFQ was in the process of gathering resources to repair a number of area roofs that were damaged by Katrina’s winds, when a rumor stopped them in their tracks. Yesterday, word got around that either the local or federal government was close to enforcing the mandatory evacuation. This rumor gained validity earlier in the day, when a number of Louisiana State Troopers entered Johnny White’s and initially demanded that patrons leave with them to be evacuated. After some heated words, the Troopers were convinced to call their superiors for confirmation. As things went, the Troopers left with no one in tow. Even so, the story and fear of a looming forced removal spread like wildfire across the French Quarter.
“All of us are hunkering down and hiding in our residences. Is that stupid or what? There are hundreds, even thousands, of people right here that would be active volunteers. We know this city like the back of our hands. We are not driving around like Mississippi cops that don’t know this place. We know what we’re doing, where everything is, and how to get resources. We can get this place back up and running. They [the government] need to leave the French Quarter alone, and let us do this,” said Steve of RFQ.
Karen Watt, 61, a small bar owner and RFQ member added, “we are survivors who live here. We can take care of ourselves”.
Many have expressed fear of the shelters in Houston, as well as a strong desire to stay put. David Richardson, 56, a carriage driver in the French Quarter who I met up with at Molly’s said, “this is my home, I want to stay with it. This is my city. I love this city. I love the French Quarter. I want to be here to put it all back together.”
Have RFQ been scared into non-action? The answer is no. Tomorrow, RFQ is planning a show of community solidarity by organizing residents in a massive cleanup starting near Jackson Square (the middle of the quarter). It is hoped that this display will convince officials that residents, far from being a liability, are a clear asset.
While The Red Shirts and RFQ are the most visible organizations, a number of other groups have also coalesced around the basic needs of survival. RFQ says that they have become aware of a new formation in the nearby Marigny neighborhood. This organization, like RFQ, hopes to start reclaiming their streets from Katrina’s ghost in the coming days.
As dusk approached, David Richardson leaned up against a post on Decatur street and summed up this Quarters spirit of self-reliance; “This is what I call the ‘Committee of 75’. Nobody is giving orders. There are enough people that know what needs to be done and we talk it over.”