NEEDLING

My heart goes out to the city of New Orleans and all her people. In 1997, I lived in New Orleans for seven months. It’s one of my favorite cities. I made lots of friends there, many of whom I lost contact with when I was kicked out of the country by the INS later that year and moved to France.

Last night, a friend of mine who now lives in Austin, but happens to be one of those people I met while living in New Orleans, called me because she wanted to go out. Across from me at the table where we were sitting was a girl of 25 who had come to Austin last week on vacation with her parents. She lives in New Orleans. Her whole house was completely destroyed in the last couple of days, she said. They’re living in a motel right now. Her pregnant sister is there as well. Since they’re here all ready, and they like it here, they decided just to stay here, and to make a new life for themselves in Austin.

Marcia Ball was on stage with several other musicians. People were coming on and off the stage. They had five keyboards lined up, and a drum set in the back. They kept exchanging keyboards when new people came on stage to join in. Marcia Ball was always up there. At one point, this one woman came up and grabbed a microphone and started singing. She sang a mixture of blues. She was very good. In between songs, she explained that she and her husband had been vacationing in Austin when all this happened, but that they actually live in New Orleans. Even though they can’t go back home right now, they’re going to fly in as close to New Orleans as possible in the next day. When she was explaining all this, she wasn’t overly dramatic or melodramatic at all. She said everything matter-of-factly. The girl sitting across from me was laughing and having a good time, said she had to get out of that motel room, her parents were driving her mad, which is why she was out on her own. Nobody was crying. The woman on stage was all smiles.

These are people who just lost everything.