I went to New Orleans in October with Jesse Jackson and the Rainbow Coalition to find work. After working three weeks I was bitten by a spider and had to leave. Words and pictures don't do the devastation justice. There were no sparrows for God to have his eye on. Except for the military, the police and private security, who were all suspicious and visibly armed, there was little or no life. Oh and let me not forget the "carpet baggers" who were always on alert for any opportunity.

The signs of life pre Katrina were everywhere, but there was no life. The cars in the driveway w/the hoods up and the tricycles in the front yards gave an etheral testimony to the relevance of the bold, spray painted numbers on the outer walls of the houses. I found out later, the numbers were a code that accounted for the lost souls, both people and pets, who didn't get out in time.

I'm sure the "Big Easy" is well on its way to recovery with the help of the government, the politicians, the preachers and the people who genuinely care. At first I was angry that the spider had chosen me to bite, but in the big picture, God always knows what's best and working there for three weeks was probably more than enough for me.

I did find it ironic though, that many New Orleanians, displaced by Katrina, were now living and working in Memphis. Life is funny like that I suppose.