Greg J. Schloesser:  Back in the Big Easy

Sorry for my conspicuous absence last week, but my wife and I traveled back to the Big Easy—New Orleans—to visit with family and friends over the Father’s Day weekend. I was hoping to send my entry from there, but as fate would have it, their internet connection was slower than the FEMA response to Hurricane Katrina. And, truth-be-told, I really, really enjoyed just visiting with everyone, and didn’t try to take the hours that would be necessary to prepare the entry and rot while trying to upload everything. Your forgiveness is humbly requested.

I had another topic in mind, but my visit to the Crescent City is still fresh, so I wanted to pass along some thoughts—some game-related, while others are most decidedly not.

Our last visit to New Orleans was in late December, only four months after Hurricane Katrina had ravaged the city and Gulf Coast. As we entered central Mississippi, signs of the devastation began to appear. Thousands of trees were still strewn about the roadsides, and debris was still visible just about everywhere one looked. The roads were congested with truck-after-truck hauling FEMA trailers and building supplies, all headed towards the coast. But the true horror didn’t surface until we approached New Orleans. The entire eastern section of the city—known appropriately enough as New Orleans East—bore the appearance of a war-torn town. Debris was everywhere, and the houses were wrecked. Roofs were in shambles, entire walls were crumbling, and vehicles were tossed about the streets as if they were play toys. This was once a thriving community of 60,000 or more people, and there was nary a living being in sight. It was at once horrifying and depressing. This was MY city, and a colossal combination of nature, governmental mismanagement and incompetence, and personal irresponsibility had caused arguably the worst disaster in United States history.

Later, I was to venture into other hard-hit areas of the city, and it was equally depressing. Where the levees broke, houses were completely washed from their foundations. Water from Lake Pontchartrain and the surrounding lakes and bayous had reached—and topped—rooftops. The muddy water-lines were still plainly visible on the houses, as were the spray-painted markings indicating that the house had been searched and if any bodies had been found. The sight of these abandoned and completely trashed neighborhoods—the heart and soul of New Orleans—was simply too much. Tears flowed freely.

In the midst of this, however, was a mixture of anger, determination, and hope. SO many entities and people could be blamed for at least aggravating. if not outright causing this tragedy. But my anger then and now is still focused on the pace of recovery, which is taking FAR longer than it should. Everything seems to be moving along as if it were still mired in the thick, sucking, muck that had infiltrated the city. Incredibly inept leaders seemed stunned and unable to formulate a plan of recovery. Governmental bureaucracy and red-tape was hindering many recovery efforts. Most people were—and many still are—taking a “wait and see” attitude, which is absolutely crippling in a situation like this. Little was getting done, and it was maddening.

I am happy to say that on this latest visit, things are improving, albeit slowly. Gone was much of the trash and debris that littered the streets. Water and electricity has been restored to much of the city, and neighborhoods are beginning the long and arduous process of recovery. FEMA trailers are now occupying driveways in front of a few houses on many blocks, with the residents living inside as they slowly repair their homes and attempt to recapture just a smidgen of how life was before Katrina. However, for every home being repaired, there are dozens—if not hundreds—of homes that sit vacant and in complete disrepair . That is a situation that needs to be addressed by the political leadership. A time-table needs to be established by which repairs by homeowners need to begin. If not, procedures need to begin to demolish these homes. Only then will people have the incentive to begin repairing homes, knowing that they will be able to move back into neighborhoods that are not filled with vacant and crumbling homes, which are not only eye-sores, but ideal hovels for criminals and vagrants. This is going to take strong, convicted leaders who are willing to withstand the protests of powerful individuals and groups. Sadly, New Orleans and Louisiana seem to be sorely lacking in such strong-willed leaders.

There is hope, though. Desperately needed federal funds and supplies are arriving. The levees are being repaired and rebuilt, hopefully the RIGHT way this time. While we were there, the 100,000+ abandoned cars were beginning to be removed from the streets. Volunteer groups have formed to help revitalize New Orleans. I will be leading a group from my church to the city in the Fall to help in these efforts. It is a small, small effort, but I MUST do something. There recovery will be long, slow and painful, but New Orleans WILL recover. I lived there for 43 1/2 years, and can testify that there is a spirit in New Orleans that doesn’t exist in any other city I’ve ever visited. The architecture was unique, the food was fabulous, and the people of ALL races were proud of their city. There was a pulse and an excitement that permeated life. The city was ALIVE.

That pulse has been slowed. The city was dealt a horrific blow, one that brought it to its knees and has left its population reeling. Even today, its people are dazed, and still cannot believe what has happened. For some, that haze may never lift, but for most, it will. There are definite signs of recovery, and with each house repaired, each tourist eating at Cafe Dumonde, each bead tossed from a Mardi Gras float, and each jazz tune that drifts from a local bar, the city gets a little stronger. New Orleans is still on its knees, but one day—and I pray one day SOON—it will climb back to its feet, spread its arms, and invite the world to come back down and “Pass a Good Time”. I am looking forward to that day.

***

On the game front, I was able to play quite a few games with family and friends, AND have a joyous reunion with my wonderful friends in the Westbank Gamers. My siblings enjoyed Eye to Eye on my last visit, so this time I brought along Rio Grande’s new The Difference Between Men and Women. It is very, VERY similar to Eye to Eye, but the scoring is quite a bit more convoluted. Still, the underlying game is quite fun, and it proved popular. They also thoroughly enjoyed both Cluzzle and Hilarium, during which our loud antics and gesturing caused my sister’s collie to go into a barking frenzy!

On Monday evening, Michael and Shanna Labranche hosted the Westbank Gamers. This was doubly special as the Labranches lost their home in Katrina, as it was inundated by over ten feet of water. They purchased a home in nearby Metairie, and it came complete with all of the furniture! The hand of God was truly over them. We had a wonderful turnout, and it was great to see the familiar faces of Lenny Leo, Tom & Paul Cortazzo, Michael Aucoin, John Moore, Keith Canova, Jim Fairchild, Henry Hunger and the Labranches. Sadly, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, several of the Westbank Gamers have been forced to move elsewhere, and were therefore unable to join in this reunion. We enjoyed a huge pot of jambalaya, a cart-load of begnets, great fellowship, and, of course, games!

I taught the group both Ticket to Ride: Marklin and The Great Space Race. It was such great fun to be playing with them again, and the jokes, jibes and laughter flowed freely. At one point, Henry made the comment that he had forgotten how much fun it was to play with everyone. He is SO right. It was a super visit, and I look forward to doing it again very, very soon.

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