- The Washington Times - Thursday, July 6, 2006

NEW ORLEANS - Sitting here at the U.S. Airways terminal at the airport waiting to board, making another exit from the Crescent City, which has become my adopted home, leaving behind the people I have met here, who have become my adopted family.

Another trip, another conversation in a FEMA trailer on a tree-lined street, another burger at Port of Call, another trip to the Lower Ninth. These are the days we will tell our grandchildren about someday. When life here was rearranged, and the people came through for each other and the spirit of New Orleans shined through, as they reclaimed the city they loved from the hands of Katrina.

This is a place where the crawfish is king, and the Cajuns sing. Where the arms of the clock seem to bend and fold, broken, like the old man taking a nap under the magnolia tree, in the warm shade there. A place where the fragrant blossoms of the night fill the air, as you take it in, and where stories of Mark Twain take you along the old Mississippi River. As you stand there on the shore, you’ll soon realize how good you’ve got it, and that you’re now family too.

Come on down to New Orleans. Live it, believe it, rebuild it. You’ll get it.


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