It was all Broken.

Hurricane Katrina had two major affects on the Lower Ninth; changing the experiential landscape, and the surviving demographic. In some ways, many things have stayed and will return the same. But it would be deceitful to tell you that all things can return and seem unchanged. In truth, after homes are rebuilt and lives are restored, things will be similar, but not exactly as they were.

Walking and driving through the Lower Ninth is an eye opening experience; even two years after. It is very apparent that something happened here that shouldn’t have. But there is a lot missing, there is little evidence to suggest exactly what it was that had occurred. And even less evidence of how long ago it was. It appears to have been cleaned, the debris whisked away as though it floated out with the water though some things were left behind. Immediately after the water receded personal accounts described the Lower Ninth, “Everything was covered in brown crud,” and “There was nothing living. No birds. No dogs. There was no sound.” Now, nature is healthy again, but the families are not. The depiction was that all was lost, that along an entire block, “It was just a ruin, all death and destruction.” Today, thankfully, it is different; it is sunny, it is green, the air is clean and the breeze is soft. But there is something unsettling about seeing the grass and trees, green and growing again, and the only remembrance of houses are the concrete foundations and front steps. There is a stark quiet, as one editorialist puts it, “Empty during the day and dark at night, this area is a long way from being a neighborhood again.”

The city council established the New Orleans Neighborhoods Rebuilding Plan where some fifty-four designated neighborhoods were divided into eleven planning districts. Each with its own community associations and consulting design firms driving the rehabilitation. The eighth planning district was strictly the Lower Ninth, including a small portion of the Ninth Ward often labeled Holy Cross that sustained minimal damage. Stull and Lee Architects were responsible for the eighth planning district. With extensive research of the neighborhood and citizen input they proposed a redevelopment plan to the city. They have distinguished three classifications of areas in the Ninth Ward depending on damages. These areas are characterized as high, substantial, and least incidents of damages.

Because of the considerable destruction of the Lower Ninth a drastic landscape exists. Most of the houses closest to the levee wall were turned over, and completely taken off of the piers of foundation. Where houses do remain there is, “block after block of ruined shells with doors swinging open and windows gaping wide.” Many of these houses will be torn down, if they have not been already. A community with over six thousand homes before the storm, the Lower Ninth has lost 2500 of those homes. This combination of tear downs and structural failures creates a new condition for the redevelopment of the neighborhood. The proposal suggests that there are three types of homes left in the Lower Ninth, homes in good, fair, and poor conditions. Homes of Good report are able to be renovated because the exterior and structure has not been compromised. The Fair label is given to homes with level roofs and plum walls that can be, at least mostly, salvaged and then reconstructed. Any homes marked Poor would have considerable damage to the structure and lack integrity. This drastic labeling dictates that there will be streets that remain historically accurate and streets that are wholly reconstructed. There will be juxtaposition of newly built homes with homes have survived and are true to New Orleans. The question is: How will this dialogue be considered by developers and contractors? There is much opportunity in this condition between the old and the new. Will the aim of the neighborhood seek to cherish the opportunity of the considerable differences between now and then, or will it attempt to emulate the old? Either way, the condition will be present. The hope is that conservation and preservation will be present, but that the potential for new progress will be realized.

There has been stagnancy in the Ninth Ward’s continual growth after Katrina. There is relatively low growth compared to many parts of New Orleans and there are a few indicator as to why. Contributing: “That the Lower Ninth is overwhelmingly black is not irrelevant. African-Americans were the predominant and poorest members of this city before the storm, they bore the worst of it and have the farthest journey back to stability.” But that is applicable to the entire city, however it is particularly significant in a few of the neighborhoods devastated by Katrina, including the Lower Ninth. These people were a combination of low income renters and home owners. Most of the home owners were such because the house has held generations of the same family. But in recent history the rising costs of homes increased faster than family income levels. Thus many people of the Lower Ninth were forced into renting. Disrupting the transition between disaster relief and reconstruction even further is the fact that these families had little savings and were often uninsured. Although, insurance companies have contributed very little to most of the rebuilding efforts regardless of policy or income level. The possibility of zone changes and the impact of the redevelopment will greatly affect the chances that these families have of coming back to their neighborhood.

It is difficult to say how and when a recovery will appear in the Lower Ninth. But Most people feel that it will. There has been response, and many have “found signs of hope” and still more “said they were optimistic about New Orleans’s future.” With this hope, still, “A huge silence still hangs over the Lower Ninth Ward, a place every American should see, to witness firsthand how truckloads of promises have filled New Orleans’s vast devastation with nothing.”

L9

If you are not from New Orleans, and you know only one neighborhood in the city by name, bets are, it’s the French Quarter. But if you happen to known two by name, the second is probably the Lower Ninth Ward. But probably not for the better – because of the media coverage of the Ninth Ward, it became an icon of devastation of Katrina. Like many parts of New Orleans that were under water, the images shown the broken levee and the neighborhood was complete engulfed. The attention of a major levee break along the Lower Nine brought the neighborhood into much media coverage. Among those memorable images of the Lower Ninth, houses were tossed aside by the rushing water, the water rose to fourteen feet, and countless people were stranded and displaced. But what was the Lower Ninth Ward before the catastrophic failure? And what is it being shaped into today?

To the south, it is bounded by the Mississippi River, that winds through the Orleans Parrish creating the crescent shape of the city dubbed ‘the Crescent City’. Along the west is the industrial canal, dredged so that mercantile ships could pass easily through what was formerly a significant area of wetlands. The length of Florida Avenue and the Southern Railway draws another boundary along the north; but perhaps it is more important to cite the wetlands and levee that they runs along. Lastly, and least in tangible limits, is the east with the Bernard Parrish line. The Parrish line defines the Ninth Ward, but does not contain it as the other significant framing elements do. It is effectively boarder by three levees; that of nature in the river below and the wetlands above and also by the human hand along portions of the river, the length of the industrial canal and as well on the edge of the wetlands.

St Claude and Claiborne serve as the two major corridors to and through the Lower Ninth. They are signifying markers in travel as well as visual indicators due to their bridges across the industrial canal. They also pass through the Lower Nine into the rest of New Orleans and the Bernard Parrish. As well through Jackson Barracks, another significant marker of the Ninth Ward, housing the Louisiana Army National Guard, Jackson Barracks has contributed to the historic development of the neighborhood.

But what does the neighborhood tell that the planning commission cannot? The experiences of the limits of the Lower Nine are possibly the most definite of any neighborhood in the city of New Orleans. The physical objects that enclose the Lower Nine are very apparent. As a mostly residential district, the Lower Ninth has a considerably large footprint of industry compared to most of the city. With limited availability of vacant land, and often ineffective zoning, the sense of place strains. There is a need for a cohesive relationship between these two land uses. There is a clear rift between these two kinds of implants.

The Lower Ninth was one of the last neighborhoods to be developed in New Orleans. The first residents were poor immigrants from Ireland, Germany, and Italy, and freedmen, who were formerly enslaved Africans. Essentially, those who were desperate for housing but could not afford to live in other parts of the city. They moved to what soil they could find in the low, once mostly cypress wetlands, Ninth Ward. Isolated and lacking in adequate drainage, any sort of sewerage, and water distribution systems, the neighborhood grew steadily but slowly. Eventually, the industrial canal was dug, which brought funds for adequate drainage and pumping systems. But the physical disruption isolated the Lower Ninth further. The industry advanced around the canal introducing the neighborhood to mechanized developments. These small to medium sized insertions strewn throughout the Lower Ninth began to effect the environment, but not the character. Risking flood and disease these residents built their homes and lives. Creating a warm community that greeted and attracted many low income residents. The reputation for neighborliness continued through the entire formulation of the Lower Ninth Ward.

So we ask ourselves why is the Lower Ninth a significant neighborhood? It is not because of the news stories or even the severity of Katrina’s impact. It was valuable long before then. It feels like a neighborhood -- still. But things have changed. What makes it significant is its sense of place. That life runs through its streets as blood runs through veins, and it is in a sense, itself a living being.

um, i needed a title?

I knew little of New Orleans; I had seen and heard about the cruelty and severity of Katrina, I knew about Creole and Cajun, about the creation of Jazz and the famous trumpeter Louis Armstrong, I had seen pictures of the street bands with the uncontrollable dancing, the famous white walled cemeteries, and the wavy-hand paintings of those musicians and participants. Really, that was all I needed to know to want to be here. And I have to admit that the reason why I wanted to come to New Orleans was to see the humanities that had not been available to me. I needed to feel a new way of expression, outside of Kentucky. But mainly to experience New Orleanian-arts of every kind.

Of course I had seen and been around a lot of art in Louisville and in museums in major cities across the country, most recently in New York City, Cincinnati, and Denver. I’ve been in front of stages in as far north as Pennsylvania and south as Memphis, and on one in Carnage Hall. Although, I felt like there was something else that I could experience. Art with more than just an expression, but a passion and a need. I knew that New Orleans would be a place that I could feel it first hand, and probably more strongly than anywhere else. It had always been part of the culture here, and it would have been the worst casualty of Katrina. But it had not left this place and it was here long before any attempt at national aid.

So, in a way, I ended up here by accident. But it seems to be part of what New Orleans is about, being where you are at that moment, and not worrying about how you got there or how long you’ll be there. Of course, I planned, I had to find a place to rent and map a driving route. But truly, four years ago I could have told you I would be in college, and three years ago I could have told you I would be going to the University of Kentucky. But I didn’t consider New Orleans, even a year ago. I had never have dreamed that I would be able to earn credit hours in such an irreplaceable way. I know that New Orleans will change how I think and how I work.

The music here is like nothing else I have experienced. And I have only begun to taste this fruit. I do know that it does not begin with the ears, nor does it merely end with the ears. Here, it is as important to the body, if not more so. I cannot yet say that the art is like nothing else I have ever experienced, having seen much more than I can truly recount. Except for the fact that it is coupled with the music. I think it is impossible to do anything in New Orleans with out being creatively or otherwise inspired by the sounds. And who can say that they have had a bad day with the chorus of a live brass band or the steadiness of a percussion line becoming the soundtrack to that day?

I have begun to realize that it is not humanities that I wanted to see -- it was the life. I do not think that I am different in seeking something new and unique, and finding New Orleans. That has brought people here for countless years and kept them here through countless generations. I can only hope that I become a true resident.