Dangerblond points to Tim’s post on the demolition of Cabrini Church in Gentilly and notes …”This makes me very sad,
and I’m not even sure why. I usually don’t give a minute’s thought to what the Catholic Church does with their vast property holdings all over the world.”
Neither do I. But if you read Tim’s post and view the photos, the sadness of this one event among so many in New Orleans does hit you. There are the many people gathering at the side of the road to watch as the church with the broken dangling cross atop its spire is cleared away to make way for a new era. There is the construction worker slipping a few bricks beneath a cyclone fence to 2 women wanting to save some tangible reminder of the old era.
It must be terribly difficult to hold the old memories of what use to be in New Orleans. I wonder if the rest of America realizes what it is like to live among the shattered often untouched remains of those memories for almost 2 years. And then have to release them. And with only a vague sense of what may come next. Think about that a moment. Picture it. Not their lives but yours. All the important landmarks in your life. You know them. Think of each, then all…
That is as Dangerblond says…very sad and notes she’s not even sure why. Why would it be to you?
I’ll attempt to leave my answer in the comments later. What would be yours…
I had been living near Pascagoula, on the Mississippi portion of the Gulf coast for 12 years when katrina hit. For myself, the most devestating aftermath of Katrina was seeing my entire community – my entire world – shattered.
All the old landmarks, the familiar places, the quirky little shops, all gone. And with those places, the people and daily routines that tied us all together were also gone. I think I could have gotten past just a flooded house. But with everything else gone as well, it just wasn’t possible for me to continue living there. There were too many ghosts everywhere I looked.
No, I cannot imagine what the people of new Orleans are/have been going through.