Decroix took his St. Joseph’s Day handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped out the brim of the blue Borsolino he used to only wear for parades.
There was a lot of that down here. Used to.
We used to go up to Luchan’s for boudin, used to get us some drinks at Jimmy White’s Sports and Games. Used to have me a house, a car.
Decroix tipped his chair back and looked out at the vacant lots of what used to be a fine neighborhood, the long black line of high-water still visible on some of the remaining ruins.
Early in the morning on August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina struck the Gulf Coast of the United States. The storm’s aftermath was catastrophic. Levee breaches led to massive flooding in the poor wards of New Orleans where many of the city’s musicians and laborers lived. The neighborhoods were razed to make way for new development, pricing out many of the people who had lived there for generations. It will come as no surprise that the African American community was the hardest hit.