The four of us had a great dinner last night to cap off our week. We drive East out of Biloxi and find a restaurant that Jim recommended. Considering how long he and Nancy have been here, it’s not surprising the food is good and the service great. What *is* surprising is that (1) it’s in Ocean Springs and not Biloxi and (2) Jim also tells us about how they like to go shopping here during their down time. I can’t imagine Jim or Nancy having any “down time” while being here … nor can I see them leaving Biloxi to treat themselves to a nice dinner out (‘tho they’ve more than earned it!). But I DO see why you can’t be surrounded by this 24/7. It wouldn’t be healthy.
We’re awake, packed, and ready to leave at 6:45am. We’ve decide to drive to the French Quarter and the 9th Ward areas in New Orleans before we head off to the airport. It’s about an 80 mile drive but we started early so it goes by pretty quick. We arrive and turn onto Decatur Street. It’s been about 6 years since I was last in the French Quarter (I had to show the city to my mom), but the street and restaurant names bring memories of the amazing food and music rolling back. I point out Café Du Monde to the team, and we drive by Arnaud's, Jackson Square, The Court of Two Sisters, and the Old Absinthe House. For the “foodie” in me, it’s physically painful to be just driving by these locations and not go in, but that’s not why we’re here. We head East, which means we need to backtrack our route … and we wind up getting a little turned around. We’re not really “lost”, which is good because this wouldn’t be a place you’d want to be lost in. We take a chance on a random street and turn left.
We’re in the upper 9th Ward – no doubt about it. We pass no one. There is no other car moving on any of the streets but ours. There are no birds, no bugs, no dogs, no one walking on the streets. There are no contractors or trucks and no power saws or hammers. There is very little trash on the sidewalks from home clean-out, not because garbage collection is happening, but because no one has started clean-out. Nearly every house has some sort of FEMA spray-painted code on it. It isn’t just silent here … it’s like watching someone’s home movies on “mute”. My opinion is that New Orleans isn’t 6 months behind Biloxi – it’s more like 12 months, presuming the project actually starts because it clearly hasn’t yet. But then, there isn’t anyone here to start it up in the first place.
We find an industrial lot with a posted security guard and he gives us directions back to the Interstate. “You girls be careful ‘round here – be safe and go straight there, ya’ hear?” he drawls. There is no other accent that sounds like a native Cajun and, ‘tho he’s clearly giving us sage advice and a stern warning, his voice is welcoming and his tone friendly so I give him a large handful of Hershey kisses. “Kisses from four strange women in a Missouri Van,” he smiles. “Not a bad day’s work.”
We say our goodbyes at the airport with promises to share our photos. When I return in a week, I’ll visit Miss Dickson’s, Miss Iona’s, 264 Nixon Street and certainly Miss Cora’s homes to make sure the work being done meets our high standards but I’ll sleep well until then knowing that things are in very good and capable hands.
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Big sloppy gobs of “thank yous” go to Tom, Carl, Carol, Julie and Stacey for allowing me to work at a company that encourages their employees to be involved in projects like this. I need to PROFUSELY thank Maria for remembering my name when she was reading an A.F.H. newsletter 8 months ago. I need to thank my sales team for being self-sufficient enough to let me be in Biloxi for 3 weeks.For those of you that have volunteered, donated miles, or even asked for more info, I want to thank you for remembering the Gulf Coast after all this time.
To my inner-circle of support (you know who you are), Miss Dickson is right – “I need bigger words than thank you”. You’ve helped me feel like a bigger force of nature than even Katrina. I DEFINITELY want to thank Paula, Kerry Ann, and Eva, for not only volunteering, but for volunteering on the 1st week. You’ll always be “Miss Paula”, “Miss Kerry Ann”, and “Miss Eva” to me. Hey – it’s a Southern thang.
Take Fun. Have Care. Be Good - Jules
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