Chicago at 25.

With the last few posts being the darkside of 2005, I can happily announce a new stage of my life with my move to Chicago and the landing of a new job at a web development firm, creators of sites for Atlanta Falcons, Notre Dame, The Field Museum, GE, and more. The picture above shows our offices, and its view over the northside and El train, eye-level to my design station. Its Thursday, almost Halloween, a few days away from seeing Wilco, and the White Sox just won the world series. Not a bad October so far.

Return to the Aftermath

I documented the following photos and writing upon my return to New Orleans, October 8-14, 2005:

click here for Katrina Aftermath Photos


New Orleans... One Last Time

Back in the South, the capitol of the laid back, back-breakin lower United States, so close now to the lower ninth ward (one of fourteen or more), it’s hard to not step outside in the debris covered streets and ride it down into the Marigny where just a month ago I was listening to smoke-filtered brass bands mixed with the overflowing of spun hip-hop records, sirening in locals from all walks of life.

Meanwhile the other side of this auxiliary life which I briefly follow, I can’t help but stay inside, paying attention not only to the mold that hangs down from my ceiling like vines for Donkey Kong to swing from, forcing me to squat at Friend A to Friend B’s home, but once I’ve found an acceptable shelter, avoid going outside for fear of the federal military currently present.

Entering my old home, I must admit a sense of excitement – the same energy both me and my friends have felt upon each evacuation over the past many years. Yet now when the shit has actually hit the fan, I initially run, and have now returned to a pile of shit. I can’t believe how much I have, under my breath, asked for this to happen for the pure purpose of drama, national drama, that affects me. Now, as post-traumatic stress sets in while national guardsmen threaten to imprison me, M16s in-hand, the air strickens my breathing, I push those closest to me away, I can’t help but feel I brought this upon myself and those around me- more symptoms of P.T.S. I suppose.

Nonetheless, I cherish the people who are here, because not only are they under that fan that cast shit all over our lives, but they are here because they put faith in a city that is in the crosshairs of nature, a struggling economy, and a racist government that will hopefully in the near future receive deserved retribution and recognition.

The National Guard, the Army Corps of Engineers putting rooftops on people’s businesses and homes, the firemen, the doctors and nurses, the teachers, the construction workers, the entertainers, the service industry – to them I offer more respect than anyone here. However, this city will only thrive in the direction it was heading as of August 2005 if the people that make the local or small businesses stay or move back actually put their full effort into the great city of New Orleans. And for that reason, among all the rest, we should not ever again be considered “The Big Easy.” We were too easy with the situation in the levees, the coastline, and our way of life. It is time for an active, intelligent push for the big recovery.

That said, I am a horrible hypocrite. I have returned to this ravaged city in which I offer so much hope for one week only to help clean up what I can, get my instruments, and go north of the Mason-Dixon line. I have finally landed a job that provides me with enough substance to see a doctor, dentist, and pay my Loyola New Orleans loans off. And so, I weakly use this as my excuse to relocate to Chicago. With three days left in the greatest place in our country, I write now purely in hope that I can document what has happened here, what damage has occurred, what beautifully optimistic operations are in effect to fix this place, and what New Orleans is, was, and will still rise to become.


click here for Katrina Aftermath Photos