Couple of Coffees

New Orleans in Brunswick

We're sipping coffee this morning in Brunswick, Maine, at the Little Dog Coffee Shop. Last night, we talked about how our trip seems to be several different trips, New Orleans being a separate piece from the rest, as is New England and as was Florida.

Walking into this coffee shop, the first thing I spotted was a photo exhibit on the wall by a local photographer about St. Bernard Parish. Her accompanying framed essay says the same thing that we've been chewing on: you can't understand the scope of the devasation unless you go there yourself.

As beautiful as her photos are, there are nine of them, probably chosen from countless ones she took during her trip this May. And no number of photos or words can completely describe what it feels like to be there. As a visitor I can't begin to understand, let alone communicate, what it must be like to live there. I don't know what those neighborhoods looked like before Katrina. The aftermath was terrible enough. But to know what they used to look like. That's heavy. That's true devastation.

Think of what your neighborhood looks like now. Look around at the neighbors' houses, the trees, the mailboxes. Imagine water flooding the whole area, and everything you own getting soggy, moldy, ruined. Can you even imagine?

One of the reasons Don and Eileen agreed to show us around was so we could spread the word of what it's like there and to share the importance of New Orleans' rebuilding. The idea of writing an essay about it has been heavy in my mind since June, when we took that New Orleans tour. It's so significant and weighty, I've been waiting for a stretch of unoccupied time, which, due to this being a road trip, hasn't happened yet. What I've realized, though, is this topic isn't just one blog entry. It's a few blog entries. It's a few essays. It's sharing the photographs of the devastation with everybody we meet and visit along the route. I've shared the images I captured so many times it made me numb first, then sick at the idea of looking at them again. To know I have these photos in my computer, but other people have to look at the damage every day. It's their regular reality. While my husband and I can drive off to other places.

Beyond sharing the story of what we saw through print and online resources, we've been sharing it through conversations with strangers, friends and family. Everybody. When we've chatted with people at hotels, in coffee shops and at their businesses, we've told them about what we saw in New Orleans. The experience comes up once a day or so in conversation, and the people we talk about it with ask lots of questions. Some we can answer, some we can't. But at least it's a dialogue.

These conversations we're having get the information out there better than this blog will or better than an essay published in one place in one region of this country. As we travel, we spread the word from area to area, city to city. A passing on of first-hand information. We hope the people we take the time to talk to about New Orleans will go home and tell their friends and family about the continuing problems in that region and the need for help in rebuilding.

It's a reminder to those of us living our safe happy lives, much like the photos hanging framed on the wall of this coffee shop in Brunswick, Maine.

posted by Laura the Writer @ 10:56 AM