New Orleans East

The people who have returned to New Orleans are desperate to see it come back. Reopen a restaurant, and they will come to eat. Reopen a neighborhood bar, and they will come to drink. Reopen a club, and they will come to dance. Get Mardi Gras on the calendar, and they will parade. It's who they are. It's what they do, and they're not changing for any damn hurricane. Hell, in New Orleans, a hurricane is just another drink.

They go back to work. They send their kids back to school. They file reports with insurance companies and argue with the adjusters. They spend every free moment repairing their roofs, hanging drywall in their homes, and replacing broken fences and storage sheds. They try to get back to a normal life. But then they drive into Orleans Parish. They see the water lines on the deserted houses. They see the fluorescent crosses on the doors. They stare at the missing windows, the drowned cars, the broken stoplights, the piles of rubble that once made up the lives of friends and family and neighbors, and they wonder, "Why doesn't the rest of the country know about this?"

There is nothing in the brain that can process the information flooding in through the eyes when you look at what is left in New Orleans. The sheer magnitude of destruction is overwhelming and incomprehensible. Never in modern American history has a major city been so devastated. And people don't know. America doesn't know.

We all saw the dramatic pictures at the Superdome and the Convention Center. All of America held its breath as rescuers plucked people from rooftops. We all saw the bodies and the temporary morgues and the refugee centers. We all wrote checks and donated clothes and time and energy to help. And then we all went on about our lives. We forgot about the people of New Orleans and hoped they'd get the French Quarter up and running in time for Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest.

Those of us with friends in New Orleans call and ask how they are doing. "We're all right," they answer, but they're not. They are guilty and depressed and afraid and in shock. Their city is destroyed, and the rest of America doesn't know. The rest of America doesn't care.

Where is CNN now? Who will show the rest of America the devastation? This story may not be as dramatic as Katrina, but it's a much bigger story. This is the story of the life and death of a city, a uniquely American city. It's the story of the life and death of an entire, glorious culture.

This story is not about Jacques Soulas or Kim Prevost and Bill Solley or Charmaine Neville. This story is not about New Orleans or even the Gulf Coast. This story is about America and what it stands for and what it will become. The 1.3 million displaced residents from the Gulf Coast are Americans. They live in the same country we do. What we do to help them will define who we are and what we will become. But America doesn't know.

America had better find out. If New Orleans and her people are left hanging, the road to recovery is a dead end. Every American should go to New Orleans and face the destruction. Consider it a wake-up call. Look at the devastation and soak it all in. Talk to the victims, the politicians and the builders. Then get righteously angry and send in the reporters. Shine the bright light of attention into every dark pile of rubble. Let us all see what the people of New Orleans deal with on a day-to-day basis. Surely, Americans will not abandon their own.

All the insurmountable problems about how to rebuild the levees, how to relieve the anxiety in the black communities, how to foster new businesses are nothing if America decides to fix them. When Americans worked together, we went to the moon. If America wants to, we can build the finest levees the world has ever seen. Americans unlocked the secrets of DNA. If America wants to, we can restore the wetlands and barrier islands that would serve to protect New Orleans from the next hurricane. America designed computer chips and invented the Internet. If America wants to, we can completely rebuild and refurbish the homes and neighborhoods of our brethren in New Orleans. America is the birthplace of democracy. Let's use real democratic principles to help local communities participate in their own rebirth. Let's welcome raucous partisan debate, listen to all sides and settle upon a compromise with which we all can live. That's what America is all about.

Right now, New Orleans has died. The funeral procession is long, dark and mournful. America needs to step up, lift the handkerchief of mercy, blow the horn of plenty and second-line its way back to a vibrant, joy filled resurrection. Do that, and America will show the rest of the world what we can achieve. Do that, and we can once again take pride in who we are. Do that, and New Orleans will be reborn even better than it was. Do that, and we'll all want to be in that number.