After the storm

Many of the advisories and press releases about New Orleans that I read before coming assured me that if I stayed in the French Quarter (where my hotel is) and Central Business District (convention center), I would not see any difference in pre- and post- Katrina. ALA was offering a variety of volunteer activities in the areas most devastated. However, I knew my physical efforts would not be available. So I resigned myself to making a difference with my wallet. I was a bit disappointed, thinking I wouldn’t see anything of Katrina’s effects first-hand.

OK, I guess whoever wrote that was trying to reassure nervous conference goers. That or they were sanity-challenged. The signs of Katrina are absolutely everywhere. We arrived after dusk, so we really couldn’t see much Friday night. I noticed the “taxis” in line at the airport. A lot of them had no indication they were cabs—they looked liked private SUVs and minivans, some rather beat-up looking. My NYC street sense said “gypsy cabs—look out.” There were large signs about the fares to the French Quarter and Conference Center. I had planned to take a shuttle bus. The line was enormous. There was a line for cabs, but it was moving. We decided to see if anyone wanted to share a taxi. We immediately found 2 takers, librarians from New Mexico, so we got in the “taxi” line. When we got to the top of the line, our cab was a van, so we recruited two more passengers. The van had a cracked windshield, which concerned me a little, but not so much as it was on the passenger side.

By the time we got to the hotel, it was full dark. We got to our room, which is very nice and ENORMOUS. Last year, at ALA in Chicago we stayed in the world’s smallest two-person hotel room. I mean, claustrophobics, avoid the Chicago Red Roof Inn Uptown. Seriously. OK, I inspected the premises. Pretty standard. The only thing odd is one of the windows. The glass has shattered. There is another sheet of glass between the room and the shattered glass, so it seems safe. I think maybe it’s some sort of privacy frosting, but I’ve never seen this kind before. It does make me a bit uneasy, but not enough to keep me awake worrying.

When we went out looking for dinner, we discovered that many, many stores and restaurants are boarded up. The few restaurants that were open had long lines. We succeeded finally in finding a place where I won’t have to stand for 45 minutes The French Quarter escaped the worst of the physical devastation, but has been hard hit economically.

In the morning, while awaiting the shuttle bus to the convention center, I notice that at least 30% of the cars I see have cracks in their windshields. On reflection, I am guessing that the number of broken windshields and windows on the Gulf of Mexico far exceeds any possible replacement inventory anywhere. The drive to the Convention Center reveals many more boarded up businesses. It reminds me of the very worst areas of Jersey City and Philadelphia, so my street sense pops up and says “Careful here.”

The convention center, a huge building, is only partially open. Plus the number of staff definitely seems thin. Usually there are all kinds of businesses trying to sell you something at a convention center. This convention center is just trying to offer basic services. There all kinds of greeters and people to help attendees, but nothing like my previous ALA Annual experiences. The day continues to show me an understaffed tourist industry that is trying so hard to make this conference work. The economic impact of the conference is obviously a very big deal. The goal of giving the librarians a good experience seems to have inspired everyone except some of the drunks on Bourbon Street. I feel like a visiting dignitary or something. (Even some of the drunks are helpful, and ask if I am one of “the librarians”.)