I saw the French Quarter . . .

A poem.

. . . as first rays of sun hit land. Turning onto the main street. Green, yellow, and purple houses on the left. Mississippi River on the right. Beauty experienced for the first time, though it was always there. A dream realized.

I saw driveways and stairs with no houses. Swallowed by the marsh and bayou they may never be seen again but their shadow will always remain.

I saw houses that were in pristine condition but next door, a family's home was frozen in mid collapse.

I saw a neighborhood strangled by commercialism but culturally fighting back.

I saw a car, buried beneath a house that was relocated 20 yards from where it stood for so many decades. The address sign “1728” remained in place with the front steps. Clothes were still hanging in what used to be the walk-in closet.

I saw a pool behind an abandoned home. Water collected from the storm came alive. Surrounded by concrete, an ecosystem emerged. Mountains of algae, swarms of tadpoles, and a sign in the bottom that read, "For quarter life loans dial 510 etc. etc. etc."

I saw nature find a way.

I saw a system that failed but I saw failure jump start the system.

I saw gentrification in reverse. Major businesses were ejected by force and neighborhood stores now have a fighting chance.

I saw balance.

I saw every corner of the city while transporting eager volunteers. Good to bad, wrecked or new, one block to the next, I love the spirit of this city now more than ever before.

I saw what I thought was a clown starved for attention but really he was a man that gave a kindergartener the attention he needed to change his life forever.

I saw a student, far from home, determined to play guitar at a small coffee shop. He imported much more than supplies, hope, and a strong set of arms - he gave them a good night. The owner said we paid their rent for the month.

I saw a local man talk about people he grew up with that took their lives after the devastation. Telling their story keeps them alive. He didn't shed a tear. He just told their story.

I saw a graveyard graveyard.

I saw people who love their town and have found a way not to give up. The love for this city, their home, can never be quantified. The spirit of this place can never be tarnished.

I saw a group of people from all walks of life, put their lives on hold, to make at least one persons day. The days they made can never be measured. Only they know what each moment meant to them. Words, photos, and text can only scratch the surface. You have to be there.

I saw hope. Nothing will ever be the same, but nothing will ever be the same.

by Dimitri William Moore
Inspired by Reach Out

March 28, 2008 @ 11:41 AM