Operation Eden


A heart-rendingly beautiful and poetic photo-blog about life in the Louisiana diaspora after Katrina:

Alva was helping him finish the beer. She was also from the Ninth Ward. She was separated from her entire family, and her husband. She was distraught, and despite Philip’s heroically drunken efforts to make her laugh, she often slipped into quiet tears. She asked me if I remembered that big wave that happened last year. It happened on Christmas, she said. She said she cried when that happened, and she knew in her bones that New Orleans was next. She said she was no Bible thumper, but that God was so powerful he just flicked his hand and her family was gone. And when she said this she made a flicking gesture, like dusting off her arm. She said God’s so powerful, and tears started. So powerful, she said softly. She asked, Do you believe? No, do you believe?

I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore, these days. What am I saying? Like Alva, I’m no Bible thumper. I don’t even believe. But I’m saying, when you look at the faces of my people, I’m saying you need to know, really know, that “There But for the Grace of God go I.” We’re all one really bad day from oblivion.

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