Gentilly Girl- a part of the 99%

May 16, 2008

A Pony For Hope

Filed under: Animal Rescue,Katrina,Louisiana — Tags: , , — Morwen Madrigal @ 3:25 pm

From the PoliticalCat comes a great story of a pony rescued in the aftermath of Katrina and her struggles.

And I thought I had probs…

February 11, 2008

Looking Back… (A Memory)

Here is another look back at the first few months post-Federal Flood here in New Orleans. At the time Betts and I were in SoCal, and the only way for me to “be with” Gentilly was to use an e-list.This letter started a movement to build a community association, and ultimately it did. (Just not exactly my version of the dream.)
(posted to Docudharma)   GentillyGirl :: Looking Back…
Maybe it’s just a melancholy nature, maybe it’s inherent memory of things, but I’ve started looking back at some of my writings  post-Deluge and what has become of my observations. Maybe I’m just searching old ammo to try to stop what I am beginning to see in the UNOP (Unified New Orleans Plan stuffs, especially the limited performance demographically within these “meetings”.I wrote this to Gentilly After Katrina on Samhain, 2005. These are my thoughts that helped to start the GCIA. Now that all of us in the city are in Phase Two of the rebuilding torture, I hope that this reminds us all of what we aspired to accomplish when we got involved with the recessitation of New Orleans.

Dear Gentilly folks,

In Life, we all must live within the circumstances of
our own individual existences… that’s a given. It IS
the way of the World.

For those who for whatever reason will not return, may
you find peace and prosperity in a new place. May it
bring you joy, and may the hurts of what happened to
New Orleans and yourselves be soothed over the coming
years.

Myself… we’re going back, even if it means that our
little house becomes Imladris, the “Last Homely House”
on the edge of a modern day Dresden. Our lamps will
shine, and yes, I will be heartbroken to not see a
mirroring gleam in the shadows, but we will go back
home.

Many of us shall.

Yes, even with our limited resources and years
remaining, putting our lives into the hole so to
speak, we will return to rebuild this city, and it
will become the wonder of the 21st Century. New
Orleans shall become the example of what can be done
when the Spirit is called upon. It will be a memorial
to the soul of a wonderful collection of people that
the modern world rarely sees: New Orleans culture.

This is what makes up “History”, and anything less is
an insult to the memory of those who built the place
and survived through almost three hundred years of
various misfortunes and Blessings.

I stated this concept before on this list… those who
wish to rebuild must band together in order to survive
the next few years. We need to have the strength that
comes from a chorus of voices in the face overwhelming
odds and modern-day demands. Vox clamantis in Deserto,
(the Voice crying in the Wilderness”), will not
suffice in our situation.

Take a look at the banality of what passes for life in
most of our cities… cold, cruel, and cultureless.
Everything is the same, and everyone has the same
nameless identities. They are all exchangable and
discardable.

Does that sound like anything we had here in this
city?

Is this all that Life is supposed to be?

Shall the cheap triteness of Post-Modern civilization
be the only thing that our descendants ever know?

Doesn’t work for me, just as it doesn’t work for many
others.

The problems of Old New Orleans, (graft, corruption,
enforced poverty, segregation.), in many ways have
died with the Katrina disaster. New visions will lead
to a better city, a city where every human being, no
matter who or what they “are”, will be welcomed and
valued. A place that is truly a “City upon a Hill”.

It can only happen if we speak and act, not the fools
and stupid concepts that led us to this disaster over
the many decades…

We are the ones who can create an equitable society.
We shall be the people that control their destinies.
We are the Spirits that will say, “No more”, to those
who just use folks up and throw them away.

All of us, no matter one’s particular situation in
Life, are worth more than that.

Let’s get this baby up and running, rebuild Gentilly,
and help restore the Spirit of the city we all love
and cherish. I’m ready.

Her Blessings!

Morwen Madrigal,
Sugar Hill

February 7, 2008

The Summer of Our Discontent

Filed under: Federal Flood,Katrina,Louisiana,Memories,New Orleans — Tags: , , , , — Morwen Madrigal @ 10:13 pm

I’m going back and looking at the last few years, and like many others here, I’m bringing back past posts because they are still relevant.

This is from July of ’06:

This song has been driving me crazy all night… won’t go away:

LAND OF CONFUSION- Genesis 1977


I must’ve dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They’re moving into the street.

Now did you read the news today
They say the danger’s gone away
But I can see the fire’s still alight
There burning into the night.

There’s too many men
Too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can’t you see
This is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

Ooh Superman where are you now
When everything’s gone wrong somehow
The men of steel, the men of power
Are losing control by the hour.

This is the time
This is the place
When we look for the future
But there’s not much love to go round
Tell me why, this is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

I remember long ago -
Ooh when the sun was shining
Yes and the stars were bright
We walked through the night
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago –

I won’t be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We’re not just making promises
That we know, we’ll never keep.

Too many men
There’s too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Just tell my why
This is a land of confusion.

Now this is the world we live in
And these are the hands we’re given
Use them and let’s start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

This is the world we live in
And these are the names we’re given
Stand up and let’s start showing
Just where our lives are going to.

Phil Collins wrote this during the last days of Detante to reflect his dissatisfaction with the rulers of both sides of the Cold War. I see this as a perfect illustration of what we all here on the Gulf, and New Orleans in particular, face every day. We are in a war, a cultural war, a war of values.

We live in a little part of the world that is very different from the rest of Amerika. Our slice of Life is not exactly like that of the outsiders. It’s not Civic pride (Heaven forbid!), but a sense of what we are a part of: that which is as if the Spanish moss grows upon our limbs, the Delta mud cakes on our feet, breathing the heavy air and stirring a bubbling cauldron of gumbo. The folks in our lives gather around… the buzz of voices is unstoppable. People dance in enticing ways… children run around in circles away from the adults. The smoke from the cook fires drift lazily to heaven.

Is our culture an anachronism? I don’t think so. It’s like so many cultures I’ve witnessed whilst travelling the world. Here in New Orleans, all of us are Creole, a living culture. The world can go to shit and we will still be here.

The oil flow stops and there goes the great cities. The highway system will become unused, people will not be able to reconnect with roots, can’t escape the living hell around them. They will be confronted with having to make real connections with the folks around them. Re-invent the social wheel, so to speak.

That will never happen here. I’ve only been home for four years, no family in the area, and there is so much Spanish moss growing on me… blows my mind. Like most others, I’m stuck in the hot Delta mud. We all are. New Orleans grows on you. It fills you, and then you cannot stop living here. Yes, we are fairly poor, have crooked politicians, but we have each other.

Walk down the streets in most of our towns and watch the little kindnesses, the recognitions that we are a part of our whole: New Orleans or the Gulf. Imagine walking into a bar and seeing a Creole shrimper, a gator-trapping Cajun, a Mexican worker, a Drag Queen, two lesbians, a professor and a transsexual having an indepth conversation about the various forms of Jambalaya or the Blues. Where your bartender answers to Miss Love. And then you can get on a bicycle and speed through the Quarter and the Marigny saying hi to folks you know even at 4 A.M.

Stroll down any street in the city, and you will see a Granny sitting on her porch: “How are you today Ma’am?”, “I’m fine honey-child. How about you?”, “I’m doing good Ma’am… take care.” She may invite you to her porch for some ice tea or lemonade, pretty much no matter who you are. I know this to be fact here.

Now this is why this is the Summer of Our Discontent. We are in very grave danger of of being destroyed by benign neglect. We are 35 days from the anniversary of the levees breaking. Our streets are a mess, two thirds of us are still in other parts of the country… many of us cannot start working on our homes yet, and the few others here need reparations for their losses. Most of our Medical/Psych facilities are gone. Same goes for our retailers.

Streets are littered with garbage and construction waste. Little white trailers abound, sans power. Broken trees and street lamps are everywhere. It rains and streets flood. If something catches fire, it takes airdrops of water to fight the conflagration. Schools are fenced off, broken windows and all.

The projects are slated to be torn down, even when the displaced are willing to live there because it means being HOME.

Our levees are still not up to par, and the Corps is falling behind their protection timetable every day. The Administration guts the Corps’ report on the failure of the levees in order to continue their funding of an unjust war. FEMA keeps scaring folks with announcements of ending rental aid in foreign cities. Many of us are going broke trying to restore our lives and homes as the State drags it’s feet. Our local guv’mit plans a freakin’ glittery Gala celebration for the anniversary of the storm and flood while people are in gutted, un-powered homes, in the heat and swarms of mosquitos, hoping to be able to finish the repairs.

All the while, we are entering the danger time for this hurricane season.

This didn’t happen in NYC after 9/11. Same goes for San Francisco post Loma Prieta. (Iknow, I was there.) Why is this?

We are an island of sanity in a B/S sea of Southern conservatism. This is Bush’s back-handed way of fucking us for not supporting him. (The Bay Area suffered a similar fate under Raygun and Daddy Bush for their voting habits.) The PTB want goose-steppers in this town. They can come and “sin” all they want, but we will vote for reprobates and criminals of the GOP persuasion.

My thought on this? ” FUCK YOU!, TWICE!”

We ARE New Orleans, and this is the Summer of Our Discontent. You have been warned Fuckmooks.

Sinn Fein!

I Am Torn

This Saturday will see us voting in the Primaries for Campaign 2008 here in the Gret Stet.

I am fucking torn. Do I vote for my hero John Edwards in order to give him, and by extension the Gulf Coast, leverage at the DNC, or do I vote for Barack Obama? This really sux.

In a way I see this as something we have to do every moment in Life: choose between our hearts or our minds. My heart screams for the thoughts and cares that Edwards expressed, but my mind says to vote for Barack in order to stop HRC.  (and no I can’t just do a coin toss on this one.) Yes I’m concerned about my Country’s future, but I MUST be adamant about getting the Gulf Coast fixed and prepping for what’s coming in the Future.

After Bush’s treatment of New Orleans post-Flood, I become very much a local Patriot. Our motto here is “Sinn Fein”. This is a hard row to hoe for me since I am a Patriot and a Veteran, but my part of this country must not be forgotten. I have traded my “America First” hat for a pirate’s tri-corner. My allegiance is to the Isle d’ Orleans, the Coast. This is the land of my people, and I have lived all along it. These last 29+ months have been Hell.

(been rereading some posts from ’06) Screw it, I’m voting my heart in the Primary, and I’ll vote for Obama in November.

I MUST stand for the folks along the Coast. (And Hillary, Bush-in-a-dress, ain’t getting my vote.)

November 12, 2007

Crescent City Stories

Harry Shearer is still plugging away for New Orleans. These are wonderful vignettes of life post-Federal Flood here in the city.

I read everything that Harry writes about the area, but I missed this, so thanks to Chris Rose for the heads-up. I cried through all of them… tears of Joy.

I love New Orleans.

Once again, it’s Sinn Fein.

November 4, 2007

ChatUsHome Alert!: By Nov. 6– chance to get reform of FEMA elevation allowances for Lousiana homeowners

For those who have been following the news concerning rebuilding along the Gulf Coast post-hurricanes/Federal Flood, you might know that Mitigation Grants were being awarded that would aid folks in rebuilding safer and with less cost to the Nation in the event of another disaster.

We were awarded an ICC Grant for mitigation of our dangers by us raising the house to above the Base Flood Elevation and in accordance with the newest flood depth maps provided by the ACOE two months ago, but FEMA had to consider a way to allow those of us who have already done the necessary work to be re-imbursed for work  done prior to their October announcement.

FEMA is now in the process of amending it’s procedures and policy since the situation down here has taken too long and many of us decided that we didn’t wish to hang out and wait for the funds to be disbursed. We decided to work on our homes and do the right thing. We are rebuilding NOW.

CHAT has just alerted us to FEMA’s upcoming procedural changes, but as usual, FEMA didn’t give much of a lead time on these changes, and that’s were we need you to help. Please visit CHAT and send their message to the Feds by Nov. 6th.

This is vital to folks’ rebuilding efforts. Many people here in New Orleans, with the promise of these Grants have moved forward on getting back into our homes and businesses, but unless some of the rules are changed, we will never see those monies. If the latter proves to be the case, those of us who showed initiative in rebuilding will be shorted many dollars that were promised to us all because of forgotten procedural rules on the part of the Federal Government’s part.

October 25, 2007

Blackwater in NOLA

Filed under: Crime,Federal Flood,Katrina,Levees,Louisiana,New Orleans — Tags: , , , , , — Morwen Madrigal @ 12:27 am

Loki at Humid City finally posted the Bill Moyers interview with a journalist that was here during the Flood concerning Blackwater.

Was Eric Prince angling for a Federal contract by bringing his shock troops into New Orleans to prove a point?

October 3, 2007

Is This My World?

Here.

September 26, 2007

More On the “Shock Doctrine”

A few weeks ago I wrote a post on an excerpt from Guardian concerning Naomi Klein’s “The Shock Doctrine”. Didn’t seem like much was happening  very much on this topic, but now it’s picking up steam as Klein is doing her promotion gigs  for her book.

Try this out: John Cusack’s interview with Klein.

Curtsey to Suspect Device. and the Zombie.

I’m happy that this book is getting notice down here in Da Swamp.

August 28, 2007

Shattered (part 2)

Filed under: Aside,Katrina,New Orleans — Tags: , , — Morwen Madrigal @ 3:33 pm

I’m not doing too well today: Betts has been ill and all that flows through my mind are the events of late August 2005. The latter is the Goddess’ way of telling to do more for the folks here, to find new ways to give help and solace. To never allow the World to forget what happened here two years ago, and to bring those who failed an entire region of the planet to Justice.

8/28/05- I’m cleaning up the courtyard. Checking my tomato stakes because it’s going to be rough for my plants. I’m still expecting the turn of the storm, but that’s in full knowledge that we in New Orleans aren’t getting off lightly.

Betts and I talk about boarding the windows, but they have plexiglass over them and what the Hell can come through all of that? She continues to answer the phone and do her business. I have everything prepped as goes for supplies.

Must clean the house. I can’t have it messy before having a bunch of people in panic mode staying with us. I’m trying to be my mother: insane grace under pressure. The feelings of disaster still hit me and I’m wondering if this is my last day in this incarnation. (Am I creating a sanctuary or a tomb?)

Evening- I’m burning my phone line leaving messages for folks I know must get out of their homes. The old ‘puter continues to show me possibilities. I’m getting worried: Momma Morwen gathers part of her flock in one place and the world caves in? This storm is scaring me greatly, or is it the storm? What is fucking with my soul? I wish my mom was with me: I need some backup. I can’t do this alone, but it all boils down to my choice.
Hours later I have no responses. It’s time to lock up the fort.

At 12:45 AM I get the latest storm data… Katrina is a Cat 4. I’m sitting at my desk… seeing in my mind’s eye all of St. Bernard, the Lower Ninth, the Marigny… remembering all of the Past… friends, enemies… just freakin’ life… the world of my crazy tribe. “MY” people are going to get screwed.
I’m in total shock and then I realize I’m packing up files. We cannot face a Cat 5 storm here in New Orleans. The house will survive, but we need power, ‘puters and phones. How else can we pay the bills? Betty’s company changes hands in two days and she is their primary salesperson. We, and by that I mean many people in different regions, are a freaking chain… what happens to one link reverberates along the line.
I walk back to the living room…  I must chose between love and mind. I know Katrina will turn, but… something spoke and said “Get the fuck out of there”. I told Betts to start packing and I’ll take care of the cats and the house.

We are trying to get two friends to help with cleaning out the rest of the courtyard. They are basket cases and we see them off to Dallas. I don’t need their insanity because I need to think.

Grey Kitty (who we inherited when we bought the house), will not get into the car. Betts is putting her stuff in the Buick. I grab Grey Kitty and my tenant’s cat and place them in the house. Split open a 20# bag of kibble and set out 8 gallons of water. I grab photos of Betts’ grannies, her heirloom of a Maxfield Parrish piece, some of my favorite things and stuff them in the car. I pray to the Lady at my altar and ask my little ones to protect the house.

I have a feeling of Doom coming at me… and there is no fucking reason for it. I KNOW the models… I’m a freakin’ engineer. I grew up here, but something is coming. Something I cannot put a name on.
Gentle readers, whether you believe in the Metaphysical or not, I had a really bad feeling about things, and that was the Lady warning me.

At 4 in the morning we took off for Houston.

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