IN DEFENSE OF A CITY THAT NEEDS SOME LAUGHTER

I usually don’t expend my limited energies–emotional or physical–on responding to media comments, otherwise there would be time for little else. Last week a local professor wrote a long op-ed piece in the Times-Picayune, for example, on “Why they hate us,” going to great lengths to expound on why the rest of the world despises New Orleans. One wonders what planet that guy lives on. I didn’t respond to him, but plenty of writers did, including one in Thursday’s paper from North Hampton, Ohio.

Karen Hayes wrote, “What a surprise it was, while I visited your city this weekend, to read in your headlines that we who are not from New Orleans ‘don’t get’ Mardi Gras and not only that, will always ‘hate’ you! As one of the chaperones for a high school marching band from the Ohio cornfields, I can assure you that our group of almost 100 would not have come if we didn’t love both New Orleans and its people.’ She ended with, ‘I have no doubt that your city will be better than ever, but already your hospitality and courage have won the hearts of a bunch of Ohio kids and their parents.'”

Said so much better than anything I would have written.

Thursday’s Baptist Press releases included a short article from Gary Ledbetter, editor of the Southern Baptist Texan, in which he asked “Is this the New Orleans we want back?” Ledbetter is for New Orleans, he said, and I don’t doubt it. He stands for the same gospel we love and opposes the same vices and excesses those of us who live here do. But in railing against this week’s Mardi Gras celebration, he said, “It is…a bit unseemly for a city…to quake in terror before a storm, beg for mercy, beg for help, and then, after those prayers are abundantly answered, to run naked through the street yelling, ‘Laissez les bon temps rouler!’

I did not read of anyone running through the city naked. Perhaps he did. Thursday’s paper reports that arrests were down 60% from last year, and with the exception of one hit-and-run, no major incidents related to Mardi Gras were reported. Of the 282 arrests in the French Quarter’s 8th District, the police department indicated that 91 were for public intoxication, 21 for lewd conduct (maybe streaking naked, but more likely exposing themselves for beads), 6 for guns, and 2 for narcotics. A total of 900 arrests city-wide were made in connect with many Mardi Gras parades over several days. And those parades, bear in mind, involved several hundred thousand people. Pretty good, if you ask me.

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The pastor said, “We’re not the same church we were before Katrina.” We were sitting in his office this Wednesday afternoon. He explained, “God has shown me just how introverted we were as a church before the hurricane. All our energies and ministries were directed inward.” I said, “A lot of our churches were that way.” “But we were slowly dying,” he said. “One of the things we are determined to do is minister in the community. A free car wash, giving help door to door, doing what we can to help the people.”

I rejoiced inwardly over his being given a clear focus from the Lord for his church. I told him of one of our local pastors who announced to his congregation recently, “We’re through having two hour business meetings to vote on spending a few cents on call waiting.” I told him that pastor’s congregation cheered his decision, and that his will, also. “Have you had any opposition?” I asked. “Not really,” he said, adding, “A little grumbling here and there, but nothing serious.” I gave him one of the mainstays of my quotes. John Wesley wrote a letter to a pastor, saying to him, in effect, “I hear you are doing a great work in that city. I am amazed Satan has not raised up a champion to oppose it.”

FamilyNet Radio is now broadcasting on Sirius, the new pay radio service. This morning at 7:30 am, in their live talk show portion, I was their guest for some 15 minutes as they interviewed me about the New Orleans situation. I didn’t say anything new, certainly nothing readers of this website haven’t seen fifty times, yet it’s good to find new audiences.

At our pastors meeting in LaPlace this morning, I suggested to our guys that they do what I’ve done, which was to take a leaf out of Chuck Kelley’s book. The president of our New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary has to speak before many different groups, often on the same subject, so he feels no need to re-invent the wheel each time. “When we were in the New Horizons fundraising campaign three years ago,” I told them, “I attended many gatherings where Chuck spoke, each time saying basically the same thing, but with great gusto and enthusiasm. He was quite effective.” Every one of our pastors gets opportunities to speak before groups or be interviewed in the media concerning the New Orleans story. “Get your story,” I suggested. “Pick out your favorite quotes, scenes, comments, and insights, and arrange it so you can tell it effectively. Sometimes you’ll have a half hour and sometimes two minutes.”

Here are some excerpts from today’s pastors meeting with around 50 attending…

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“Waitin’ for the train to come in”

The Times-Picayune’s editor Jim Amoss was interviewed by Katie Couric on this morning’s “Today” show. “Why is it taking so long to get the rebuilding process started?” she asked. He answered, “The government needs to step up with money and a plan. Then the mayor and the governor have to get on board.” She said, “The federal government has already put $87 billion into this area.” Amoss said (I’m going from memory here), “Most of that was money paid out to people through the federal flood insurance program.” I wanted to add, “And to help people survive these months they’ve been unable to live at home.” “But,” Amoss added, “very little money has been put into the rebuilding of the city.” That is a point the average U.S. citizen does not seem to get. He pointed out that the city flooded because of the ineptitude of the Corps of Engineers, making it a federal responsibility. Another point most people miss. So we wait.

In the Second World War, Peggy Lee had a hit, done in that soft sultry way of hers, about a girlfriend standing on the station platform, looking for her soldier boy to return. “Waitin’ for the train to come in” was a song millions of Americans could identify with.

Tom T. Hall had a song a generation later in which everyone was waiting for something. It ended, “The bee’s just waiting for the honey. And honey, I’m just waitin’ for you.” Everybody’s waitin’.

Around here people are waiting for the mayoral election, due for the end of April. If someone other than Ray Nagin is elected, all bets are off, and anything could happen. My guess is Nagin and one of the white guys–Ron Forman or Mitch Landrieu perhaps–will make the run-off. People afraid of radical change will probably vote for the known quantity, Nagin. Amoss said on the “Today” show that there is no real polling going on, since so many voters are displaced and many who are here are living with cell phones, putting them out of the reach of pollsters.

How some of us spent Mardi Gras

This morning Freddie Arnold borrowed Riverside Baptist Church’s van and met a group of Georgians at the airport. After checking into the hotel in Metairie, they joined Lonnie Wascom, Larry Badon, and Mike Canady for lunch at the Piccadilly. This cafeteria was the only eating place on the east side of the river we could find open. Everything else was shut down for Mardi Gras–a holiday for most, party time for some. The Georgia group was led by Jim Burton and Richard Harris, executives with our North American Mission Board, come to see the area, and included four men from the oldest Baptist church in Georgia, Kiokee Church of Appling. Pastor Steve Hartman was accompanied by Allen May, Jerry Tiller, and Robert Pollard. All of them–execs, pastor, laymen–were looking for a handle, how to help this area in the way that will mean most. Dr. Jack Allen, NOBTS professor of church planting, joined our group and added considerably to the discussions.

Tomorrow the group will tour the Mississippi Gulf Coast, then Thursday take in the Northshore, from Covington to Hammond.

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Tuesday is the big day. Normally a holiday for our citizens, and a welcome one at that, this year we have some representatives of the North American Mission Board coming to town–they’re good people, but they don’t keep up with the local calendar–and some of us will be spending the day with them.

Sunday morning, I preached at Oak Park Baptist Church on the West Bank of New Orleans. They were commissioning their Sunday School teachers for the year; like everyone else down here, they’re running a little off schedule. Interim minister Joe Kay announced that a church in Ruston had sent $10,000 to help install showers in the renovated educational building so they will be able to host volunteers coming to help rebuild the city. He read a letter from a couple who belonged to Oak Park decades ago, sending their love and a thousand dollar check. The church voted today to allow the Billy Graham “Rapid Response” chaplains to live in a residence next door for the next three months. At the end of the service, the altar was filled with members recommitting themselves to pray for this city. State Legislator Jim Tucker, a member of the church, was present. He has a standing invitation to attend our Wednesday pastors meeting in LaPlace to bring us up-to-date on legislative doings.

Times-Picayune columnist Chris Rose is defending Mardi Gras, which has become a popular task around these parts, since much of the nation wonders whether the city has lost its mind by staging this party in the midst of the great devastation. He says some of the same things the rest of us have, that 98% of the people in the French Quarter who are guzzling barrel-size beers and flashing their bodies for beads are not from here. They are from “your” town. “You’re watching a mirror of yourselves,” he says to the nation.

Chris Rose is put out with what the media–and some self-serving politicians, I might add–have done to the image of this city, post-Katrina. Listen to the national coverage of our disaster and you come away believing the rich white folks of Lakeview got off easy compared to the poor Blacks of the Lower Ninth Ward. “Never mind,” he writes, “that the flood itself ignored such devices and claimed lives, property and peace of mind indiscriminately and equally across race, class and gender lines and across hundreds of square miles.” He writes, “The failure of the Corps of Engineers was true democracy in action. Or would that be inaction?” Read any paper in the nation commenting on New Orleans’ having a Mardi Gras this year, and it comes out to rich white folks partying at the expense of the neglected minorities.

Rose quotes a friend who lives in the Lower 9th, that she is fed up with the reaction when she tells people where she is from. “They immediately think I am poor, uneducated, have no car, no job, and was too stupid to get out of town when a hurricane comes.” She adds, “I’m not stupid.”

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Since Katrina, our funeral homes have been busier than before. At first, it was “Katrina” deaths, with the newspaper notices announcing that “He died on September 1” or “She died of a heart attack in a shelter after the hurricane.” Now, judging from the obituaries, it seems to be the normal kind of dying. But with one third the population of what the city was before the storm, you would think we’d have fewer deaths. I have no answer to this.

A member of the Kenner church, a lady who had moved away some years ago and with her husband had been residents of a nursing home in Mississippi, died this week and the family asked me to do a brief memorial service for her in the local cemetery’s mausoleum. Standing in that little chapel waiting for everyone to gather, I heard a man say, “This place gives me the willies.” In slots all around the chapel wall, perhaps reaching 12 feet high, were remains of the deceased over the years. I never come into that chapel without going to the rear where a glass case, not unlike a china cabinet, holds the cremains and photographs of a number of people. I go to the pictures of three brothers side by side, all of them dying before they were 30 years old. I did every funeral. I can only imagine the pain their parents must still be experiencing to this day; you never get over that kind of grief.

On the way out of the associational office to the cemetery, Jennifer Smith called. “Can you run by here?” Something had happened at Highland Baptist Church where her husband Scott is pastor. When I arrived, police cars were everywhere. Scott explained, “A few weeks ago, two men came by, said they were trying to find construction work, and could they put their pop-up camper on our church parking lot. It occurred to me this morning I had not seen either of them for two weeks. If they weren’t going to stay here, we need to get that camper off the parking lot. We have some FEMA trailers coming in. I decided to see if the door was open.” It was.

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My mother sent us a copy of the recent “Daily Mountain Eagle” from Jasper, Alabama, with a large write-up about her and Dad. The headline: “Retired miner, 94, and his wife have lived and loved through almost a century of hard times.” Writer Lona Vines calls mom “a fiesty 90 year old who still cooks a full course dinner for her family at the noon hour.” (Mom tried not to be offended; she won’t be 90 until July 14.) Mom and Dad were married March 3, 1934, which means they are about to celebrate 72 years. The article says, “At 22, Carl asked for the hand of Lois Kilgore, a sweet, yet lively young woman he had met in church. Her father wrote a note to the judge giving his permission for the not quite-18-year-old to pledge her heart to McKeever. He has kept that note for 72 years.”

((Want to write them a note of congratulations? Carl and Lois McKeever. 191 County Road 101. Nauvoo, Alabama 35578. Thank you.))

Monday’s news. Labor shortages are crippling local shipbuilders. Bollinger Shipyards has canceled a $700 million contract it worked years to get, then took a pass on a $150 million job because high wages and scarce employees meant the company could not turn a profit.

A group of congressmen came to town Sunday and toured the ugliness Katrina inflicted on the city. One of them, Westmoreland of Georgia, said he has often been to New Orleans in better times, but since the storm his image of the city was formed by our crooked politicians, daredevil looters, and absentee cops. Over the weekend, he saw the city as it is, and met a group of leaders who call themselves Women of the Storm who have changed his opinion. “All we’d seen in Washington and on TV,” he said, “were people who did not give a good representation of what was going on down here.” He says he voted against the Baker bill recently, which would have created a buyout fund of $52 billion because it was an invitation to fraud.

Wednesday’s editorial cartoon fits here. Cartoonist Steve Kelley has Uncle Sam telling a guy, “I paid twice what I should have for blue roofs.” “And blew $900 million on the wrong type of trailers.” “Just storing them is costing another $25,000 a month.” The listener says, “Why didn’t you send the money directly to our state?” Uncle Sam answers, “Everyone knows you would have mismanaged it.”

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Mardi Gras parades are rolling in our city. Judging by the televised portions, not many people are lining the streets to grab for beads, but it’s an emotional thing for the city. Front page of Sunday’s Times-Picayunes addresses the two ways Mardi Gras is viewed. The outside world sees decadence and debauchery, beads and breasts, Bourbon Street and booze. To most locals, Mardi Gras is about kids catching throws, masking with friends, bands marching down St. Charles Avenue.

I had not thought of that distinction, but it explains something. I recall a phone call I received one Mardi Gras Tuesday (redundant, I know) at the First Baptist Church of Kenner. A church supply salesman was calling for one of our ministers. I told him it was a holiday, the offices were closed, and Jim was not in. Long pause, then, “What holiday is it?” Mardi Gras. Another pause, then, “And you close the church of the Lord Jesus Christ for such an ungodly display of wickedness as that?” I said, calmly, I hope, “Sir, the entire city shuts down. No stores are open, the streets are jammed. For most of us, it’s a great time to stay home with the family. Some of our people go to the parades and witness.” And I wondered why I felt it necessary to justify this to him. Incidentally, the man still wanted to argue that we were wrong in closing the office, that we should take a stronger stand against the wickedness.

I told the gentleman that most of the parades are as tame and harmless as your high school homecoming parade such as we used to have in Double Springs, Alabama. It’s in the French Quarter where people show out, I explained, then felt bad because a) I had argued with him at all, and b) I’m in the weird position of defending Mardi Gras.

Home prices are zooming in this post-Katrina era. In most areas of metro New Orleans, something like 20 percent since the hurricane. This is the result, of course, of 200,000 homes being unliveable and the ones that are being highly sought after. Paper says some people are buying the damaged homes in Lakeview at one-half the previous value because they have finally found a way to afford to buy a home in New Orleans. Go figure.

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Today, Friday, the city of New Orleans celebrated two openings. The Morial Convention Center, infamous as a place of suffering of stranded citizens following Katrina’s floodings, has been repaired and is open for business. Then, Harrah’s Casino, the city’s only land-based gambling hall, sitting at the foot of Canal Street a block from the river, welcomed back nearly all its 2500 employees as it threw open its doors. The front page article in today’s Times-Picayune celebrated the “miracle” of Harrah’s contacting almost all its workers and returning them to work for the same wages as before, and this without the aid of a single FEMA trailer.

Reading of those 2500 employees, I have vivid memories of the flurry of promotion and the fury of controversy in the early 1990s over allowing casinos in New Orleans. The gambling industry promised and bumper stickers everywhere proclaimed, “25,000 new jobs!” Speak out against the casino–as many of us did–and you were accused of not wanting to help poor people out of their poverty. To this day, there are not 25,000 gambling-related jobs in the entire state. Unless you add the counselors and bankruptcy lawyers helping people deal with the consequences of their gambling.

The mayor of Kenner is in trouble. In the days following Katrina, Phil Capitano signed several large contracts for millions of dollars, mostly for debris cleanup. When city council members tried to find out the details, they were not allowed to see them. Now the U.S. attorney and a federal grand jury are involved, with both the mayor and the council members receiving subpoenas. This comes just a few weeks before the election, and yes, the mayor is up for re-election. His arch-rival, retiring police chief Nick Congemi, is running for his honor’s seat.

The special called session of the state legislature ended its meetings today. We’ve not heard of today’s doings, but yesterday they voted to consolidate our numerous fragmented and disjointed levee boards into two, one for the west bank of the Mississippi and one for the east. Governor Blanco had pushed for one board composed only of professionals, most of whom she would appoint, but settled for the two boards.

What the governor apparently did not get is the down-sizing of New Orleans city government. For decades, we have had too many judges, too many courts, seven tax assessors, and two sheriffs. With one-third the population as before, it’s high time to take an axe to this cancerous growth. Politics were on display in Baton Rouge in all their selfish ugliness, and when the legislature splintered into factions, the issue died. Some say it will be back in the next regular term. We can hope.

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Nearly 60 of us met at the First Baptist Church of LaPlace Wednesday morning, getting underway at 9:15 and ending at 11:30 for a lunch of po-boys, soft drinks, and dessert, furnished by the church. As usual, at 10:30, the 8 or 10 women in attendance excused themselves to meet with Linda Williams, wife of Joe, our FBI chaplain and NAMB counselor-in-residence. It was a full morning.

David Lema reported that the Portuguese-speaking mission meeting at Emmanuel Spanish Church had 65 in attendance Sunday. “They had six saved last week,” he beamed.

Jose Mathews came in on a crutch, followed by his wife Othello. This pastor of Discipleship Church in defunct East New Orleans is living in a trailer near Baton Rouge. He told the group of the warm hospitality of the sponsoring Oklahoma church, of returning from that visit only to experience a stroke, followed by the death of his mother. He’s in therapy three times a week, but when today’s session was canceled, they decided to drive down to see everyone. He received a royal welcome.

Warren Jones reported on the recovery of New Salem Church in the 9th Ward and the new ministry they are committed to having in that neighborhood.

Rick Lopez reported that Lake Forest Church on Morrison Avenue in East N.O. has officially gone out of business and has deeded their assets to the association. “We’ve had teams of workers in fixing up the building,” he said, “and it looks great. The Franklin Graham organization is going to use it when we’re finished.” I’m always eager that everyone know the association is not Freddie Arnold and me, so when Rick finished, I asked everyone, “Who exactly is this association he’s speaking of?” They called out in chorus, “Us!” Exactly right. A Baptist association is composed of all the Southern Baptist churches in that area, with the executive committee being the pastor and one elected layman from each church.

Charlie Dale reported to the group on the progress of Grace Church, saying how excited he is to be back.

Kevin Lee reported on the rebuilding of Edgewater Church, of the tent that was donated to them, and of their services Sunday in the frigid temperatures. “We were all so glad to be there,” he said, “no one noticed the cold. I told Charlie Ray you could set fire to the tent and no one would move.”

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Since the hurricane, several people have offered to help our pastors and churches rebuild their libraries. The folks at Saddleback Church in California even went so far as to say if we would give them the names and contact information of pastors who lost their libraries, they would make arrangements for a shipment of books to each one. That was easily done on my part, and greatly appreciated by our ministers. The last offer we received, however, stood out from the others. This lady was determined.

“Some men from our church went down to New Orleans and came back telling us about your situation. When I told them I want to help rebuild the church libraries, they said that is low priority right now.” She was clearly offended, believing as all good librarians do, that reading is not only next to cleanliness and godliness, but probably a means to both. We e-mailed back and forth a few times, with me explaining that rebuilding the churches and gathering the dispersed congregations actually do take a higher priority. Finally I said, “Bring your husband down and see for yourself.” Today they did.

She and her husband are spending tonight in our Rachel Sims Mission Center in Uptown New Orleans, then attending our Wednesday pastors’ meeting at the First Baptist Church of LaPlace. I suggested she might want to talk to the pastors about their needs.

I picked the two of them up at their hotel Tuesday morning and gave them the grand tour. Lakeview, Gentilly, out to the associational office on the lakefront, Franklin Avenue, East New Orleans, St. Bernard Parish, and the Ninth Ward. All morning long, the sights seemed to get worse and worse. Soon, they got so caught up in gawking at the devastation–and this nearly 6 months after the hurricane–that the husband would forget to take pictures. They got out of the car and walked around inside Edgewater, Gentilly, and Arabi churches. “What’s so amazing,” he said, “is that it is mile after mile of this same misery.”

Clearly, the tour was sapping their spirits and overwhelming their comprehension. That’s why I was delighted to find Warren Jones standing in front of New Salem Baptist Church in the Upper 9th Ward. He smiled that grin that lights up entire neighborhoods and waved me down. We circled the block and parked and walked over to where he was conversing on the street corner with two men and a woman.

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