Hurricane Katrina Three Years Later

Looking back, my life has changed dramatically since Katrina hit, three years ago today. I've published five books in four genres (one I edited, the others I wrote) and I've become a "real writer" according to others. The last two books are really in pre-release, since I've focused more on writing than promoting. But that's a pretty hefty effort, right?

Here's a picture of some old folks heading back to their house with a friend, after waiting for three days in the hot sun and uncertain nights for help to arrive. The lady trailing collapsed right after I took this shot, but medics were there quickly to load her into an ambulance. Most of the nearly 1,400 people who died were over 65.

If you want to see some color pics I took right after the hurricane, go here: http://smallwoodviewofhurricane.blogspot.com/

I wanted to put out the first words I wrote for publication, from the Preface of my Katrina book, "The Five People You Meet in Hell: Surviving Katrina."

Although the nation and the world pities New Orleans and mourns its death-by-media, those whose heart and spirit live there know that what makes the city so unique wasn’t destroyed by the effects of Hurricane Katrina, but rather, temporarily dispersed. People in Houston, Denver, Atlanta, New York, and elsewhere are getting a watered-down dose of New Orleans culture — an inimitable romantic brew of history, music, art, cuisine, corruption, carnality, faith, and freedom. And as these elements return to New Orleans, like moths to a flame, with the focused fervor that tragedy brings to art, it will rise to be even greater than it once was: the most hauntingly distinct and enjoyable place in America and cultural icon for the world.

For me, it started like any other sweltering August weekend in the French Quarter: perched in the shade of the grand live oak trees at Royal and Orleans streets, sipping a cold can of beer and making small talk with the local artists. It helped them pass the hours between sparse sales and filled my day while we all could savor life in the Quarter; where time is motionless, every motion a timeless caress of history.

We were all there for the same reasons. The charm and tradition of the French Quarter provided the ideal backdrop for dreaming dreams, and for drinking in the natural poetry of days full of art and music that sustained us. This intoxicating lifeblood, like the aroma of night-blooming jasmine on warm evenings, seduced us and fed our dreams.

A few had visions as grandiose as changing the world through an artistic zeitgeist like some who had gone before us. Others just lived the delusion of sustaining themselves while pursuing their own artistic direction. New Orleans gave us that chance, and the French Quarter doubled the bet. We reveled in the odds — and the oddities.

Soon, all our lives would be shattered. Or, at the very least, scattered.

And our beloved city, New Orleans, would be changed forever.