Beloved New Orleans

It just rips my heart out to see the suffering going on in New Orleans. Those of you that know me also know that Lisa and I have been down there many times for Jazzfest. Jazzfest was held at a race track that was not in the best of neighborhoods. The kind that you really did not want to be in after dark. We were always made to feel welcome during Jazzfest, though. I remember coming out of the festival one year and we were invited in to the home of a black family. They were cooking, selling Budweisers for a dollar, and jamming the blues. It was like a block party. I never felt more welcome. A couple of blocks down the street was Shellfest, a Shell station that during Jazzfest was turned into a minature version of the festival. Local bands were playing in the repair bays. Food and drink was offered for sale. People were dancing, partying and celebrating the diversity that is and always will be New Orleans. Outside the gate vendors were selling beer huggies with a strap to hang around your neck with lettering that said "How you gonna clap?" Will they rebuild it? You bet your sweet ass they will. New Orleans is like the United States of America, more an idea than a place on the map. Ideas like that will never die.
Jazzfest photos.