1. The Lower
9th Ward (also called The Lower Nine or just The
Nine).
This area of New Orleans was once a burgeoning
old-line neighborhood. It was home to generations
of New Orleanians and included among its evacuees
Fats Domino, members of the Neville musical family,
and several leaders of the Mardi Gras Indian Tribes.
This was one of the touchstone areas of the City
where architecture and atmosphere combined perfectly
to attract many Hollywood scouts looking for “authentic”
New Orleans neighborhood locations. A vibrant,
urban, sometimes dangerous neighborhood, the Lower
Nine was devastated by the floodwaters of Hurricane
Katrina and further mutilated by the floods of
Hurricane Rita. Homes, businesses, schools, churches,
the entire heart of this area was literally torn
out and washed away. Today the neighborhoods look
like war zones and visitors have to stop and remind
themselves that this is New Orleans in America
and not Fallujah or Baghdad. Residents of the
Lower Nine were the last to be allowed back into
New Orleans to view what remained of the neighborhood
most had known all their lives; later, some residents
returned to gather what they could before leaving
again for good; and still others are determined
to stay and rebuild. The Lower Nine suffered a
high death toll in the aftermath of the hurricane
where many who could not make it to higher ground
drowned inside attics or homes as the floodwaters
rose. Now, in the empty, shattered shells of derelict
houses and once-thriving buildings there have
been reports of looters where none have been found;
voices ring through the neighborhood, even the
laughter of children in streets caked with layers
of river mud and dust: there are no children left
in the Lower Nine. There have been reports of
cries for help in the darkness and NOPD officers
on the graveyard shift patrol have heard the desperate
sounds of drowning people. Most disturbing are
the 911 dispatches that come in the dead of night:
when officers arrive at the location they are
greeted with a devastated home or an empty lot
where homes used to be. Even if the Lower Nine
is rebuilt, it will never be the same and the
ghosts of its Katrina dead will not let it forget
the torment it has suffered at the hands of Nature.
The voices will call out into the night for years
to come.
#2. Convention
Center Boulevard / Ernest N. Morial Convention
Center.
In the now-infamous bungled response to the
aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, this area has
to rank among the most horrific. Thousands of
people jammed into the Ernest N. Morial Convention
Center seeking shelter from the rising floodwaters
that were consuming neighborhoods all around the
Central Business District. What these evacuees
found when they arrived at the Center was, quite
literally, a corner of hell. For an entire week
following the hurricane the poor, the elderly,
the displaced, both black and white, were congregated
in this shop of horrors and left to fend for themselves
while Federal agencies bungled the emergency response
to the storm and police and National Guard were
occupied with stopping looters and thieves. Several
of the elderly and infirm died at the Convention
Center, in wheelchairs or on bare floors or abandoned,
alone, in rickety lawn chairs out in the noonday
sun. Deep inside the Center, the criminal element
continued intimidating and violating citizens
just as it had before the storm, only now there
was no law enforcement authority to stop the violence:
many were beaten and robbed or raped, many died.
Citizens banded in groups to protect themselves
and to hold onto a shred of humanity in the devolution
taking place around them. These were probably
the people who placed the dead in the Convention
Center freezer, but with no electricity or generator
by week’s end even this seemed an act of
cruelty. The National Guard finally arrived for
these forgotten ones on the Saturday following
the hurricane’s strike. Distributing MRE’s
(Meals, Ready to Eat) and water to the suffering
crowds and finally loading them onto buses for
evacuation to safe haven was the easy part. Patrolling
the empty, trashed halls of the darkened Convention
Center was not a welcome assignment, according
to several who were there. One man stated, “That
place is full of the dead,” and this is
absolutely true. If torment and suffering, hopelessness
and fear contribute anything to a haunting, then
the Convention Center and the areas outside it
will certainly be haunted for years to come.
#3. Chalmette
and St. Bernard Parish.
Though technically not part of New Orleans,
and located, in fact, in an entirely different
parish, the entire area is so closely connected
to New Orleans that it can almost be described
as a suburb of the City. Most “Chalmatians”
would probably bristle at the comparison, but
it is a fact that generations of families have
married and mingled across city limits and parish
lines. St. Bernard parish is a low-lying area
that flooded horribly during Betsy, the infamous
storm of 1965 and the one against which, until
Katrina, all others were reckoned. It is a good
thing to say that most people in St. Bernard evacuated
when they were told to; some, however, refused
to listen. Having survived Betsy, these old-timers
and hardheaded residents chose to hunker down
and ride out Katrina. This was a devastatingly
bad idea. When Katrina roared into Louisiana all
the power of her wrath was concentrated over the
swampy low-lying St. Bernard; ahead of her, and
behind, the Gulf waters stormed over the parish,
breaching low levee walls, funneling into the
parish, washing away fishing hamlets, small towns
and the entire city of Chalmette. Today, nothing
is left of Chalmette. Entire neighborhoods are
gone – literally no trace is left to show
that people ever lived there. Some areas, less
devastated because the homes may have been better
constructed, are still nonetheless set for demolition
because the muck and mire washed in with the storm
has done its work far too well. St. Bernard had
a reasonably high death toll, as well, losing
more than 200 residents to the storm, among them
32 residents of a nursing home who were abandoned
in their beds by the nursing home owners. Search
and rescue teams found bodies tied together where
homes used to be: entire families trying to ride
out the fury that was Katrina. These days, as
residents are slowing returning to face the destruction
and decide their future, there are more than a
few who are reporting strange, ghostly encounters
amid the devastation. One family, sifting through
the tattered remains of their dead mother’s
home, claim to have heard her voice amid the ruins,
as if talking to herself; others have heard the
desperate last gasps of someone drowning in homes
where they had found dead relatives. And, perhaps
most strange, the sight of ramshackle boats, cast
up on highways and in driveways, manned by a ghostly
crew.
#4. Gentilly
In the 1930’s and 40’s Gentilly
was what suburban life in New Orleans was all
about. Beautiful, cottage style homes dotted the
streets and stood alongside monoliths of the era’s
nouveau riche that generations later seemed to
blend right in. Gentilly was home to generations
of New Orleanians, a place for family, where schools
and churches thrived and streets were lined with
huge oak trees, fragrant camellias and azaleas.
Even today, in pre-K New Orleans, Gentilly was
still a nice neighborhood, though it had its share
of crime and problems. Nevertheless, it was home
to a large portion of elderly homeowners, most
of whom had spent their entire lives in their
Gentilly homes. Gentilly suffered a large death
toll in the fury of Hurricane Katrina. Bodies
are still being pulled from the rubble, even at
this late date. As in other gutted neighborhoods
reports of ghostly voices and cries for help abound
and patrolmen are chilled by the sight of ghostly
faces peering from shattered windows, frozen in
fear. On investigation, however, the officers
never seem to locate the elderly folk staring
out at them. It is as if they just were never
there.
#5. The Louisiana
Superdome and surroundings.
Like its smaller sister, the Convention Center,
the Louisiana Superdome took the brunt of a lot
of tragic psychic energy in its role as the “shelter
of last resort.” Put to use in Hurricane
Georges two years ago, the interior was trashed
by idle evacuees who were more than a little annoyed
at having been hustled out of homes and into the
meager comfort of the Dome: Georges, as everyone
knows, turned away from New Orleans at the last
minute becoming in the end a major inconvenience.
Memories of that debacle were probably overwhelming
to Mayor C. Ray Nagin when he pondered calling
for a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans in the
face of Hurricane Katrina. But as the weekend
of Katrina’s approach wore away, the reality
was driving home fast: Mayor Nagin had no choice
but to call for that evacuation, and many residents
had no choice at all, and nowhere to go except
the hulking monolith that is home to the New Orleans
Saints. By Monday morning, August 29, 2005, with
Katrina barreling over Lower Plaquemines Parish,
thousands were huddled together inside the cavernous
Superdome. As the ferocious storm approached the
City, it was clear that this was like nothing
ever experienced before. Katrina’s vicious
winds and slicing sheets of rain wreaked havoc
with the roof of the Dome, a building designed
to withstand 200+ mph winds. Still, Katrina had
the right combination of malice and mischief and
spent the day battering the building, finally
tearing away sections of the roof. Crowds lurched
to avoid the rain that came pouring in, huddled
together, praying and hoping that the storm’s
fury would spend itself quickly. But as Tuesday
morning, August 30, dawned, a new threat was revealed:
Katrina had torn down levees surrounding the City
and the famous “soup bowl” that is
New Orleans was filling quickly with a mucky stew
of storm water. Thousands more would fill the
Superdome to overflowing in an effort to escape
Death in the roil of Katrina’s aftermath.
Jammed inside, with food and water nearly non-existent
and relief agencies nowhere in sight, the thousands
fell prey to desperation, fear and the same kind
of human devolution that was plaguing others at
the Convention Center. Criminals, always lurking,
now had free rein; New Orleans Police officers
on the scene were forced to hunt down rogue gangs
deep inside the Dome. Female security officers
on duty at the Dome had to be locked in a secure
area, under guard, because of the threat of rape
and other crimes. In the meantime, evacuees were
being starved and dehydrated, were being robbed
of the few belongings they could salvage, and
were dying. By the end of the week, six deaths
had been confirmed in the Dome. With the arrival
of the National Guard a new fear arose in the
shape of camouflage-clad men with guns that they
were not afraid to use. As the evacuation of the
Superdome commenced, the tale of the tragedy and
human suffering could be measured in the refuse
and trash generated by their passing. Now the
Superdome stands empty as politicians and pundits
debate its fate, but is it really empty? Will
it ever have anything but a sold out crowd as
long as it stands?
#6. City Park
For generations New Orleans City Park has been
an oasis in the heart of the urban city sprawl.
Since the earliest days of the Louisiana settlement
the commitment to preserve the space as a pristine
“verdant acre” has ensured that this
area of New Orleans, at least, would be untouched
by development and rabid change. Splendid old
oaks like the infamous haunted Dueling Oaks grew
to ancient age in the fathomless green that was
City Park. Locals and visitors alike enjoyed the
Museum, the Peristyle, the Casino with its paddleboat
rentals nearby, and the touring train that has
chugged generations of New Orleanians under the
spreading oaks. The Beatles performed in City
Park’s Tad Gormley Stadium in their only
visit to New Orleans back in the 60’s; famous
golfers have played the professional courses that
frame the park; and new generations have found
a place in their heart for the park, coming back
year after year for the Celebration in the Oaks
holiday light show. There isn’t a kid from
New Orleans who doesn’t have memories of
playing in Storyland and riding the beautiful
carousel that is the centerpiece of the children’s
area. The Botanical Gardens had rare and otherwise
extinct flowers for all to enjoy. When Hurricane
Katrina roared into New Orleans and broke the
levees surrounding the city, City Park was engulfed
in a deluge of polluted and murky floodwaters
that covered it for weeks. From the air it had
all the appearance of a lake or perhaps looked
more like the City Park swamp than a “verdant
acre.” As the floodwaters receded the damage
became evident: ancient oaks suffered irreversible
damage from salt water; the Botanical Gardens
was destroyed, its rare plants and flowers washed
away; lagoons overflowed; ducks and swans were
dying, desperately trying to find something to
sustain them in the rusty brown war zone that
had once been the greenest space in New Orleans.
Just as generations of New Orleanians have visited
and loved City Park, and just as many of those
same people are dead or missing in the aftermath,
it is not beyond the scope of imagination to believe
that they might be found under the spreading oaks
in the City Park of their memories, ghosts to
those of us who dwell here now, newcomers among
the old spirits that have haunted the Park for
years.
#7. Mid-City,
the Faubourg St. John and Carrollton
The thriving heart of New Orleans is really
not the French Quarter. Though some might argue
it, most locals know that Mid-City is the jugular
of this town. Bayou St. John, Holy Rosary, St.
Louis No. 3 cemetery, Esplanade Avenue and Grand
Route St. John, the New Orleans Fair Grounds,
the Criminal Court Building and Police Headquarters
at Broad and Tulane, Tulane Avenue where you still
can’t make a left turn, the old Dixie Brewery,
the American Can Company, Mandina’s, Liuzza’s,
Brocato’s Ice Cream, Venezia’s, Manuel’s
Hot Tamales and the Flying Burrito, the Mid-City
Parade Den, Mid-City Bowl, College Inn, Genghis
Khan and the Union City Market, the schools that
used to be Sacred Heart Academy and Warren Easton,
Crescent City Steak House, and the Zulu Social
Aid and Pleasure Club Headquarters, the Banks
Street Bar and Grill and Bud’s Broiler.
The list is practically endless and there isn’t
a single true child of this City who does not
know what you’re talking about when you
mention any of these, in any combination: No matter
how you say it, that’s Mid-City and that
is, as others have coined the phrase, “Naturally
N’Awlins.” Most of the great old families,
the ones who worked and slaved to build the City,
came from this area, raised families here and
are rooted here. Forget about urban sprawl, when
you’re in Mid-City, you’re home and
that’s what tourists ought to be experiencing
instead of spending all their time in the Quarter.
Most of Mid-City took on 10 to 12 feet of raging
floodwaters from the break in the 17th Street
and London Avenue Canals. Adjacent to City Park
and Carrollton, the area remained under water
for days following Katrina and was again inundated
by waters from Hurricane Rita. Though in the past
several weeks some residents have returned to
clean and to try to rebuild, the area, many parts
still without electricity, is essentially a ghost
town within a Ghost Town. Now the ghosts of Jose
Planas, the King of the French Market, and Marie
Laveau, who performed her rituals along Bayou
St. John, and Eddie “Blackie” Pustanio,
who rests uneasily in St. Louis No. 3, can mingle
with the ghosts of many who have died, many who
have left and cannot return except in memory.
They walk Mid-City, but they are not alone.
#8. The Cemeteries
at Canal Boulevard
The intersection of Canal Street where it turns
into Canal Boulevard at City Park Avenue is a
mecca for tachophiles: there are thirteen cemeteries
within walking distance of this one intersection.
For years there have been the legends of ghosts
and hauntings, even a haunted city bus regularly
visits this area. Ghosts have caught transit buses
to other parts of town, have hitched rides here,
even jumped onto car hoods and scared the bejeezus
out of many a New Orleans teen. But as the floodwaters
rose in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, a silent
kind of second death came over these Cities of
the Dead, and as the waters receded there was
evidence that many New Orleanians just wouldn’t
be kept down: tombs buckled, old and new in ground
graves surrendered their water-logged contents
to the open air. It wasn’t until All Saint’s
Day, November 1st, that some locals were finally
able to check on what remained of their family
remains. Some were not surprised to find waterlines
as high was 6 feet along the sides of some of
the biggest tombs; others were forced to rebuild
entirely their ground-level tombs; still others
were having unpleasant “reunions”
with some of the dearly departed who had washed
up, seeing to it that they were put in place once
again. In a situation like this, in a place that
is already the focus of numerous hauntings and
paranormal activities, there is no doubt that
the activity in this area will increase as the
already-uneasy dead are made even more restless
by the affront of a storm that had no respect
for anyone, living or long dead.
#9. Lakeview
A little more upper crust than Gentilly, but
with the same cottage style homes, some of them
on the National Historic Register, Lakeview was
a quintessential New Orleans neighborhood. Home
to an eclectic mix of elderly couples and young
families, of musicians and artists, local yokels
and local bigwigs, this area – bordered
directly by the 17th Street Canal and adjacent
to the London Avenue Canal levees – was
overwhelmed by the murky floodwaters the day Katrina
roared through New Orleans. Homes that had weathered
Betsy and Camille in a neighborhood that had retained
its character and quality through generations,
all were washed away in what seemed like the wink
of an eye. Manicured lawns and gardens, schools
and churches, all fell in the face of the natural
disaster that was Hurricane Katrina. No more tears
were shed in Lakeview than in the Lower Nine or
Gentilly, but it seemed that, just as Mid-City
bore the indelible stamp that said “This
is New Orleans,” so for most of us Lakeview
felt a keen loss as well. As residents slowly
come back home, sifting through belongings and
securing what is left from looters and criminals,
police officers continue to patrol the empty,
Martian landscape that once was one of the “Gardens
of New Orleans.” They hear, in the cacophony
of silence, the lost voices of children playing,
of mothers calling and school bells ringing; and
though the sun still sets in drama over nearby
Lake Pontchartrain, its light is fractured now
through dead trees and the shattered windows of
empty, truly haunted houses.
#10. The French
Quarter
Though the French Quarter fared well compared
to many other areas of New Orleans and whether
by fate or the wise choice of its 17th century
founders, it stayed mostly dry. It was the first
area to bound back after the storm – lights
on Bourbon were back on almost immediately with
the clubs catering to the weary contract workers
and off-duty guardsmen looking for a little amnesia
in the midst of Chaos. Its “old” ghosts,
the well-known specters that people the stories
of New Orleans ghost tours who have haunted the
old buildings for over two hundred years, have
not been daunted by the fury of Katrina. They
are still there to be encountered and experienced.
But Katrina has made a ghost town of the French
Quarter, its once vibrant fabric now tattered
by the storm’s unforgiving winds. In a City
that never closes it is clear that there is no
reason these days to stay open. So the French
Quarter is dealing with a new kind of ghost, it
fills the empty barstools and chairs in restaurants,
it fills the empty jails in a City that is now
the safest urban area in America: it is the ghost
of tourism, a zombie that must be revived and
only a few know the magic spell. In the meantime,
like moss overtakes a grave and time overtakes
a haunted house, the ghosts of the French Quarter
are free to roam again, unhindered and unimpeded
by the intrusions of curiosity seekers.
Officials indicate that it will take years to
rebuild the hardest hit areas of New Orleans,
and some areas may face wholesale demolition because
the damage is just too extensive. Visitors to
the City in the near future will be able to see
these areas for themselves, places where fear
and death are palpable and real. This is the Ghost
Town created by Hurricane Katrina.
