Re-Entry | Near Magic • by Will Crocker
RE-ENTRY • NEW ORLEANS • 13 October 2005
The first thing noticed is the bareness of everything.The softening of trees
is missing. Lots of stuff is missing.The belfry of St. Alphonsus is completely
gone. At many points you stop and ask what is different here?
I wanted so badly to get back to New Orleans. Now that Martha and I are back in the city, it is taking some adjustment. We haven't ventured out far, so we haven't experienced the hard hit areas like the 9th Ward. But, from driving down Magazine Street, I have seen much more clean-up needed than rebuilding. Only a few structures are knocked down or seriously damaged in our area but everybody has a mess to attend to. There must be 100,000 refrigerators waiting on the sidewalks of New Orleans. Almost all of them are bound with multiple turns of duct tape. Some have messages like the one I saw, yesterday: "How can America administer Justice, if it can't handle Just Ice?" There are many warnings to would-be looters sprayed on plywood nailed over windows.
When Martha and I came in two weeks ago, emptying our refrigerator was the focus. When we came into the building it smelled repulsive. We cleaned out the unidentifiable stuff, sponged the walls with bleach and left it closed up and running. The carrion odor had attracted flies. Later when we got back to Austin, the odor would not leave us. It was embedded in the car, our clothes, literally everything that we had brought. We went to the Whole Food and bought a can of odor neutralizer spray and I used it on everything. It wrapped an herbal veneer over the unrelenting smell. My neighbor recommended a guy she calls, Hernia Willy, and his buddies to help us. Tomorrow morning, we are expecting them to come and take away the dreaded source. It will feel like Christmas!
After arriving, I went looking for groceries. I found a Winn Dixie open on Tchoupitoulas. The parking lot was jammed. I found most everything on my list, but different brands than I am used to. Many people just gathered a few items. I was self conscious of my basket full of food and wine. Most people were paying with cash. It seemed like something had been put in the water – everyone was a little more alert. More full of life. I saw a T-shirt that said, "Katrina, You Bitch!"
Yesterday, I drove to several stores that I had heard were open. I went to a Target and several Walgreens looking for a teddy bear to use as a prop for an assignment. I crossed the river to the Westbank where there are more stores open. Everywhere there was incredible traffic. Everyone racing about.
When we arrived we noticed that neighbors had heaped garbage on our little plot of grass in back of the building. It was piled about five feet high. Mostly pieces of a beloved magnolia tree from across the street. This tree was always full of starlings that sang wildly in the mornings. I will really miss the tree. Mid-day, yesterday, I heard workers picking up trash on the street. I was so happy to see them that I ran to the back refrigerator, picked half a dozen bottles of cold water and offered them to the workers as a thank you for their efforts on a hot day. No one turned me down. The only name I learned was, Yolanda. She was stationed at the head of the street with a flag to direct traffic away from the blocked street. There wasn't too much traffic. I also met a young postal worker. It was the first day to get mail in our area, he said.
I had visualized arriving and having a sort of leisurely time of it. It has been anything but. Today I got up early and worked picking up the street in front of the building. There were hundreds of shreds of roof material and other debris scattered. I wanted to be free of the depressing look of it. Martha did the same for the back area after the big stuff was picked up. I have a long list for tomorrow.
We are really doing pretty well. It is a strange combination for shock and
thanks for being so lucky. I feel absolutely that the city will re-emerge with
spirit intact.
NEAR MAGIC •
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA • 29 August 2006
You are probably aware that today is the one year anniversary of Katrina. There
were many celebrations for making it and observances for those that didn't. It
was an amazing day. I had planned to go out and photograph several events. I
got up early, went downstairs to pack up and heard the sound of a guitar being
played on my front stoop. Through the peep hole, I could see a young woman as
she sang the opening lines from House of the Rising Sun. Rather soulfully. I
didn't open the door, but just hovered listening, not wanting to disturb magic
afoot. I packed up and went to the Superdome to watch and follow a parade that
would go from there to Armstrong Park. When I arrived I introduced myself to
one of the musicians and he introduced me to the grand marshall. The grand marshall
asked me to safety pin his sash (see picture) to his coat. It might seem like
an insignificant item, but it was another thing that made this boy's day! The
music really lifted me.
Will Crocker is a commercial photographer who has
been under the spell of New Orleans since 1977. With over 60% of the city under
reconstruction, much of his post-Katrina work is for architects. He is currently
developing a personal project that focuses his lens on the trees of New Orleans. Glory
in more of his rapturous New Orleans imagery on his website:
www.willcrocker.com
