I was driving from LA to Miami, stopped in New Orleans, where my grandmother once lived. Such fond memories of annual vacations in the gracious, beautiful town. I parked near St. Louis Square, mentioned to the elderly black attendant that I was tempted to move to NOLA because I’d always loved it.
He shook his head. “Wouldn’t be safe for you now,” he said with real regret. His gracious, charming city had been stolen from him too. WE shared a moment of silent understanding.
That was in 1987. Everyone our family knew there has left, and all with great sadness.