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January 29, 2006


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Joe Kennedy

I spent only a year in New Orleans, but like a kindred spirit, a soul mate, I connected with it. Mobile is 300 years old. I was here for the tricentennial. New Orleans is almost as old. They are like sister cities, sisters who took separate paths long ago and write to each other every once in a while. They are old America. But where one chose to proceed into the future, to flee from urbanity, to flee west into suburbia, the other embraced its history. The Spanish moss covers the same oak trees in both towns. Certain places are identical in both towns, a memorial to years gone by. But New Orleans. Oh New Orleans. That bastion of the Old South, New Orleans. Music on the street corners, people everywhere. The Big Easy, the Crescent City, the French capital of America. How I miss it. How I miss the history, the stories waiting to be discovered. How I miss the great oaks and cedars, covered in moss that drapes off limbs like a shawl on a distinctly aged woman.

Yeah I miss my home too. Even if it was just a dorm room.


I always wanted to visit New Orleans. It was a dream I had once I moved to Nashville to take a road trip down to the Big Easy and explore all its wonderful old-world secrets. Oddly enough (or, perhaps not) it was a movie that really stirred my heart for the area. "The Skeleton Key" opened my heart and eyes to the stark reality of the animism of our own America. After seeing that movie I really wanted to see the whole New Orleans area -- bayous and all.

Then Katrina came to town.... Its sad to think that so much history was lost, and so much more is in danger of being lost.

Someday you'll have to give me a tour of the city that captured your heart...

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