Howie Luvzus

I built this birdhouse after Katrina with stuff I picked up on the side of the road. I thought it was pretty cool.

It didn’t make it through Gustav.

Tuesday afternoon I tried to calm the lovely wife a bit by explaining that I would see where Gustav was the next morning, check on it at noon, check on it when I got home and not get obsessed over it. As I reflect on that conversation a bit (One reason we’ve lasted 24 years) I realize that my cavalier attitude was very inappropriate. The next morning, I gave the same little speech to a co-worker and she teared-up. Man, was I an idiot.

It’s not something that you can put in the back of your mind. Once you’ve had your life totally changed by something like the Federal Flood, there’s no going back. In fact, it’s so deeply embedded in your psyche that sleep is no escape. Since I worked as a case manager trying to help persons impacted by Katrina I have had nightmares about their plights. I had several last night. I admire those who have sucked it up and are ready to stick it out here even if we get another big one. I will not. I can’t afford to lose my job and stay here doing something I hate. I can’t handle any more health issues. I can’t handle being separated from my family for four months again. I can’t handle losing any more friends. I can’t handle the daily struggles of living in a place with so many frustrations that go on and on and on.

I’m not panicked. I’m sleepy, I’m apprehensive, and depressed. I’m angry that Katrina has become a big joke for outsiders and even some of my family members. I’m angry at most of the politicians and public figures that have failed us.

So we’ll head out tomorrow to spend a long weekend away. Hopefully we’ll come back to our home. But unfortunately, this serves as a reminder of how fragile our lives really are. Many people have grown stronger from the Federal Flood experience. God Bless em’!

I’ll know that I’ll be with two of the most important people in my life and that my two sons will be safe from the storm because they are away at college. This event reminds me that even though I love New Orleans and that it has given me great joy, my real joy is with the family. My real comfort is in the love they bring me. I know that at least I won’t lose that this week and that brings me great peace.

President Jimmy Carter shows the lack of progress after Katrina. He makes me proud to be a baptist!

HT: Schroeder

I thought having to do without my computer for 6 days was bad! I can’t imagine what a blow it must be for someone to be called a failure by someone from the Bush administration! OUCH!

Douglas O’Dell, federal recovery coordinator said the following about Mayor Ray Nagin’s recovery director, Ed Blakely:

“I’m basically asking Blakely, who’s probably getting paid a whole hell of a lot more money than I am, to do his damn job,” O’Dell said.

“He’s there not only to plan, but to execute. Not only to manage, but lead. He’s not an elected official, but as a nonelected official he wields enormous influence over the future of this city and the speed of its recovery,” he continued. “And he’s failing, in my view.”

Dang! Guess that’s why we haven’t seen any cranes in the sky yet even though Blakely promised them quite some time ago.

No I’m not talking about Adrastos! In fact, as someone who has been labeled a heretic, I don’t joke about hell. But if anyone deserves to go there it’s Stacey Jackson, former director of NOAH. Lee Zurich and Karen Gadbois have been exposing the corruption in the city-run Non-profit (yeah right!) that has milked the recovery effort and given the city a black eye.

Here’s the real kicker! Christian teenagers have been coming down here for years to gut houses and help our citizens rebuild their lives. The bad part of that is that today’s Times-Picayune article, which has been WAY behind the curve on this thing, informs us that NOAH contractors actually got paid for work that these sweet kids did to make our city a better place.

Holy Crap! Somebody better get on their freakin’ knees right now. As I said above, I don’t take this lightly–but somebody better get ready to fry like a sausage in hell! You *&^%$@’s better be looking for asbestos wetsuits because you’re going to be treading water on the lake of fire for quite some time for this!

Damn. I hope Stacey and the Board of NOAH go to jail for a long time for this.

From the New Orleans Index published by The Brookings Institute:

Major challenges remain: The city may be confronting fully 65,000 blighted properties or empty lots. Rising rents, now 46 percent higher than before the storm, threaten the ability of many essential service workers to afford housing, as wages are not keeping pace. The labor market remains tight as the service and construction industries seek workers. The public service infrastructure in the city remains thin, especially public transit, which saw ridership grow by 45 percent in the past year. And, the latest maps from the Army Corps of Engineers suggest that a number of neighborhoods in the city remain at risk of six to eight feet of flooding from a “1 percent” storm, signaling the need to commit to a coastal restoration plan that goes well beyond levees.

The whole report can be found at The Greater New Orleans Community Data Center site.

I have not written about my work in the recovery efforts because I don’t want to give some knucklehead from Houston ammo to use against New Orleanians, but here goes…

After watching Lee Zurich’s report about NOAH and the corruption there I was very impressed with Karen Gadbois’ contribution to the story. Great work you guys!

However, this story forced me to have a flashback related to a job I had after Katrina. I was not working for the city, but the group I was working with had to work with city employees. We were supposed to be helping persons impacted by Katrina. In some small way, I think some of us did, but I still feel guilty about having to be a part of an effort that in many ways was demoralizing and many times simply exploited those who really needed help. Sure, my efforts resulted in a hundred or so folks getting refrigerators and beds and washers and dryers, but what they had to go through to get them was pretty awful. I still have nightmares about the people I dealt with. Sometimes it’s simply remembering their horrific stories of suffering during the great flood, but mostly they are about their suffering post-Katrina.

We “worked” with three city employees that ran the center. The leader, “Reverend LowDown,” as my colleagues called him was a local minister. He wore some great suits and always had some really cool shoes. He showed up about 10 or 11 am every day, left for a long lunch soon after and usually left early as well. There was a lady about my age that showed up to work on time most of the time and did a fairly descent job. Then there was a young lady that was the niece of one of Nagin’s top brass. She openly bragged about getting paid about $30,000 a year to “sit on her a$$ and do nothing.”

She probably left before noon about half of the time to go take care of her baby. She was never on time. Once, one of my colleagues joked about how she got away with murder. Her response was, “They can’t fire me! I may not make too much money, but I don’t do sh*t, and nobody can say anything about it!”

The biggest problem was that in order to do our job, the city employees had to do their job. When clients came to us without the proper documentation (which the city employees were supposed to tell them about), we could not process the requests. Any time we complained to our bosses, they would try to speak to Reverend LowDown, but it would sometimes take two days to locate him. Then they would get all defensive about it. Nothing was ever done. You can’t expect city employees to do their job. There’s no accountability. I do think that most of the very attractive clients we had got taken care of very well. I became known as someone who was pretty efficient so the Rev would bring them to me and say, “Hey Doc, take care of this nice young lady for me. She really needs our help.” When the did not receive the refrigerator or whatever in a timely manner, the Rev would come to me and say, “Our girl hasn’t gotten her frig yet Doc. You know how bad she needs it.” It was interesting that they had his cell number.

One day, a poor old client of ours just broke down and began to cry. It was her third trip to the center. She had sat in freezing weather for two hours to wait on a bus to get to the center. When she was asked by one of our folks if she had brought her paperwork, she said that she brought what the young lady told her to bring. Unfortunately, we couldn’t process her request. She had to make another appointment. She was escorted to the city employee to set up another appointment. As she walked toward the exit after setting up her appointment, the city employee said so that everyone could hear, “I told that stupid bitch what she needed to bring. It wasn’t my fault.”

The client, probably in her 90s, stopped in her tracks and began to cry. One of my colleagues noticed her and went to comfort her. Unbelievably, the client came back a few days later and hopefully got what she needed.

The city employee was never reprimanded. Reverend LowDown told our boss that he couldn’t say anything to the young employee because it might tick off her Aunt and he’d lose his job.

That’s why I might leave Orleans Parish. My tax dollars are spent on crap like that. And on crazy cops salaries. And on and on and on…

It’s been a tough day. I took my lovely wife to the doctor’s office this morning for her quarterly check-up. Four years since her final treatment for cancer. It seems like only yesterday. I hate that office. We got the bad news there. It’s always pretty packed with folks. Folks waiting for the bad news. Folks waiting for good news. Folks with wigs, using walkers, terribly tired, terribly scared, and terribly sick.

I watched people trying to stay awake. Two people were trying to work the 500 piece puzzle. Several had their spouses with them and some had their kids and grandkids with them. All alone was Sister St. Dorian. Just her and God. It was kind of sad. Her big black horn-rimmed glasses matched her skirt and head covering. Even though she looks to be in her late seventies, Sr. St. Dorian rose rather quickly when her name was called. She released the break on her walker and pretty quickly left for the door. I prayed for her.

As soon as the wife went in for her results, I left the waiting room and went to the lobby of the hospital. I couldn’t stand being in the room any longer.

Great news! She’s fine. I dropped her off at work and headed to the NOBTS library to work on a chapter for the next book. On the way I saw such devastation. I forget how terrible it still is in Gentilly. I get angry and depressed when I drive through my old neighborhood. “Guess they’ll never convict Jose Vazquez, Jr.’s murderer,” I thought as I drove past Vasquez’s restaurant on Gentilly. It hasn’t been touched since Katrina.

Got to the library, made a quick run through the New Orleans Blogs and saw another jerk is using the floods in Iowa to trash New Orleans. I love it when someone who’s never been here explains why Katrina was our fault. It really sucks around here. I know it could be worse. A lot worse.

Sometimes I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Other days I feel like Sister St. Dorian. Alone in a scary place. Just me and God. Gotta hop up now. Got work to do. Can’t wait to pick up Shirley Jr from camp and Shirley Sr from work. I owe the little one a snowball. We’ll go by Pandora’s. Life is good.

My experience as a New Orleanian often parallels my experience as a follower of Jesus. At the best of times, they are both exhilarating, life-affirming, and bring great joy. At the worst of times, they are painful and frustrating and I feel like it’s not worth it hanging on to either of them.

Today is one of those days… I want to move away and get away from the craziness. Our mayor promised to have 200 surveillance cameras installed so we could combat crime.

From the T-P via Oyster:

Since the announcement, much of the Nagin administration’s crime camera program has been cloaked in secrecy. City Council members and citizens seeking basic information about the program, such as contracts, have been rebuffed.

As a City Council hearing about the matter began Tuesday morning, the city’s technology officer, who is in charge of camera deployment, was nowhere to be found. A note sent to the head of the Public Works committee stated that Anthony Jones — who had canceled several previously scheduled appearances — was traveling.

That left two attendees, a police officer and an associate tasked with monitoring the program, to give council members the bad news: Right now, the city has “about 85 cameras that work most of the time.”

The announcement incensed some council members.

“I have documented evidence that over 200 cameras would be installed,” Councilwoman Stacy Head said. “The press releases are wearing me out. I want to know the truth.”

More than 250 cameras have been installed, but only about 85 are operable. In fact, the number of crime cameras working in New Orleans today is about the same as it was pre-Katrina.

Spokespeople for the Nagin administration did not return requests for comment.

Meanwhile, violent crime is occurring under inoperable cameras.

I have relatives who HATE New Orleans. They want my family to leave. When stories like this get out, it’s hard to explain why I stay. Here’s one reason. When I complain about Christians who don’t get it, I’m sometimes criticized for being too negative or even judgmental. I don’t often get criticized for being critical of New Orleans though.

I have two good role models in my two struggles. Ashley Morris was a great New Orleanian who spoke out against the madness.

Will Campbell is a fellow Baptist that has spoken out against racism, violence, and bigotry of all types. Campbell says, “As a Baptist, I come from a long line of hell-raisers.”

Having models like Jesus, Campbell, and Ashley—I must keep up the fight. I must continue to speak up, but I must also keep enjoying those times when the Kingdom of God breaks through. God help us.

From the Greater New Orleans Community Data Center:

Dear friends and colleagues,

You’re not going to believe it! We’ve got the data you’ve been wanting most of all — block-by-block counts of households actively receiving mail, alongside counts of homeowners who have closed on their Road Home applications to stay and rebuild their homes. And we’re displaying this data in a new online mapping system that allows you to zoom in and see the specific neighborhoods you are most interested in.

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