A Letter to America from South Louisiana

[Kicks]

Dear America,

I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana.

We have arrived on your doorstep on short notice and we apologize for

that, but we never were much for waiting around for invitations. We're

not much on formalities like that.

And we might be staying around your town for a while, enrolling in

your schools and looking for jobs, so we wanted to tell you a few

things about us. We know you didn't ask for this and neither did we,

so we're just going to have to make the best of it.

First of all, we thank you. For your money, your water, your food,

your prayers, your boats and buses and the men and women of your

National Guards, fire departments, hospitals and everyone else who has

come to our rescue.

We're a fiercely proud and independent people, and we don't cotton

much to outside interference, but we're not ashamed to accept help

when we need it. And right now, we need it.

Just don't get carried away. For instance, once we get around to

fishing again, don't try to tell us what kind of lures work best in

your waters.

We're not going to listen. We're stubborn that way.

You probably already know that we talk funny and listen to strange

music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of

your yard.

We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too

much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly, we're

suspicious of others who don't.

But we'll try not to judge you while we're in your town.

Everybody loves their home, we know that. But we love South Louisiana

with a ferocity that borders on the pathological. Sometimes we bury

our dead in LSU sweatshirts.

Often we don't make sense. You may wonder why, for instance - if we

could only carry one small bag of belongings with us on our journey to

your state - why in God's name did we bring a pair of shrimp boots?

We can't really explain that. It is what it is.

You've probably heard that many of us stayed behind. As bad as it is,

many of us cannot fathom a life outside of our border, out in that

place we call Elsewhere.

The only way you could understand that is if you have been there, and

so many of you have. So you realize that when you strip away all the

craziness and bars and parades and music and architecture and all that

hooey, really, the best thing about where we come from is us.

We are what made this place a national treasure. We're good people.

And don't be afraid to ask us how to pronounce our names. It happens

all the time.

When you meet us now and you look into our eyes, you will see the

saddest story ever told. Our hearts are broken into a thousand pieces.

But don't pity us. We're gonna make it. We're resilient. After all,

we've been rooting for the Saints for 35 years. That's got to count

for something.

OK, maybe something else you should know is that we make jokes at

inappropriate times.

But what the hell.

And one more thing: In our part of the country, we're used to having

visitors. It's our way of life.

So when all this is over and we move back home, we will repay to you

the hospitality and generosity of spirit you offer to us in this

season of our despair.

That is our promise. That is our faith.

The people of South Louisiana

http://www.livaudaisnet.com/katrina/091005_Get%20Well.jpg

[karatekid1975]

Amen, Kicks. We have a fund going at work for you guys. I always drop my spare change in there (it's a can of change). It's not much, but it will help in the long run, I am hoping. God bless.

[fallen_milkman]

Beautifully written, Kicks.

The only way you could understand that is if you have been there, and

so many of you have. So you realize that when you strip away all the

craziness and bars and parades and music and architecture and all that

hooey, really, the best thing about where we come from is us.

I was wondering how in the hell they could ever recreate what you guys had down there. I assumed it was mostly lost. Now I know. Good luck, God bless.

[Red J]

Kicks, I've been thinking about you. Glad to see your posting. I just made it through Wilma. We were smack in the middle of the eye for 45 minutes. It was so surreal. Luckily it was no Katrina, but none the less I lost 16 trees, one on the roof. Everyone is safe.