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Show Page 8 THE OGDEN VALLEY NEWS Volume XII Issue XI September 15, 2005 of New Orleans o like me. Surrounded by lush green plants, I sat on a stone bench, listening to the trickling Along with everyone, I saw on TV the devsounds from a weathered fountain. astation that Katrina left behind. Mississippi Eventually I had to eat and saw Café Du was hit by a category 5 hurricane and the levies Monde. A jazz musician stood on the corner broke in New Orleans and flooded the city. entertaining visitors on the terrace. I joined Thousands died in the City of Enchantment. them and ordered Beignets dusted with powAnd we know now that you can live in the dered sugar and a cup of Café Au Lait—the strongest country in the world but when such a rich Creole coffee with that distinct chicory disaster hits, America can be just as helpless as taste. I sat there for a long time taking in the a third world country. My heart went out to surpeople, the music, the atmosphere. vivors; it was heart wrenching to experience vicThat afternoon Johan and I took a trolley to ariously their losses, the death toll horrifying, the French Quarter to have dinner. Out of our the magnitude of the devastation mind boggling. window we could observe New Orleans neighn I read the impressions of reporter borhoods. We marveled at the colorful houses Dan Darry of the New York Times as he and lush gardens. Then we saw a bicyclist with drove through New Orleans where the waters his basket filled with long crusty French breads. started receding, I cried. The reporter wrote: He came to a stop under a typical two-story “On the other side of downtown, acros: house. From the balcony above a man lowered Canal Street, in the French Quarter, the most a basket attached to a rope. The cyclist put a loaf raucous and most unreal of American avenues is of bread in the basket, waved, and went on his now little more than an empty alley weit: balwa we saw a lady lowering a basket conies The absence of sweetly blown jazz, of from her balcony and her cat jumped out and someone cooing “ma chére”. . . past the famous disappeared into the lush undergrowth. The Cafe Du Monde . . . past the statue of Joan of lady retreated into the shadows of the balcony, Are gleaming gold and onto Royal Street . . .” leaving the basket ready for the cat’s return. And the memories came flooding back— We smiled at each other; how ingenious! Café Du Monde . . . Royal Street. The next day I did something that I’d It was six years ago. I was so fortunate to wanted to do the minute | heard we were accompany Johan at a conference in New going to New Orleans. I went on a shrimp Orleans. While Johan went to meetings, I boat into the bayous n escort was on my own and made good use of this steered the boat slowly into the swamp and opportunity. The first day I took a trolley to glided to a silent stop. Cypress trees stood in the French Quarter and was mesmerized— the green, murky waters, their strange bare the smells, the people, the ambiance! French “knees” protruding above the water; their and Spanish architecture was clearly visible at draped in long strands of Spanish in the colorful buildings with wraparound oss. Egrets stood balancing on one leg balconies decorated with intricate white lace abe the trees. I felt as if 1 were in a medtrellis work. Baskets brimming with flowers evil swampy forest. and =e hung from the balconies. My guide touched my shoulder and pointOn almost every corner, Jazz musicians ed into the water. I saw nothing but a log. were jammin’ the blues. The place was so Then the “log” opened its eyes and I alive! I wandered through the streets like a screamed as he lunged forward. Egrets child in Disney World. Every now and again flapped their wings and flew away. In horror, I peeked into antique stores and gated courtI snapped my head back and saw a very dead, yards. One of them, the Brulatour Courtyard, wet chicken dangling over the water. It was was on Royal Street. I walked in, not sure if attached to the end of a line knotted onto a I could but it was so inviting, so peaceful and rail high up on the bridge of the boat. I shivromantic. Arched doorways led off the courtered when the alligator’s whole, scaled repyard into the surrounding building; an oasis tile body seemed to hesitate in mid air as its on warm days for inhabitants and wanderers jaws snapped over the chicken. Water splashed over us as the reptile hit the water and rolled and thrashed until the line broke. He disappeared into the water with his catch and the water and surroundings were silent again. I wiped myself dry with my sweater while my Cajun friend’s laughter echoed through the swamp. I smiled even though it was a terrifying experience. It was a thrill I would always remember. That night we went to a Cajun restaurant with Johan’s colleagues. I ordered a bowl of gumbo filled with okra, shrimp, crab, rice, and spices that made me smack my lips. totally agreed with Mark Twain; “New Orleans food is as delicious as the less criminal forms of sin.” But what really fascinated me about New Orleans was the people! A Cajun band’s music filled the quaint restaurant and, in between eating, the locals danced! The music was so unusual with the button accordions, violins, harmonicas, and whiny vocals—all in the so-called “chank-a-chank” rhythm. The music was so enticing that it was hard to keep your feet still. A local came to our table and asked if one of us would like to dance. Even though I’m not really a dancer, I did. Couples danced in one another’s arms, next to each other, moving in a circle, two stepping and waltzing to the amazing rhythm—it was incredible. On our last day, | accompanied ladies in our group to a plantation home on the Mississippi River. It was a huge white columned house standing in the shade of hundred year old oak trees. I heard Dixie music and turned around and there, anchored on the banks of the Mississippi, was the two story high Mississippi Queen! The Dixie Band musicians sat on the deck of the Paddleboat making their awesome music. e remember how the paddleboat was partly hidden by a nine feet levy that kept out the waters “of the mighty Mississippi. It seemed so out of place in the otherwise beautiful and unique surroundings filled with Dixie music. Now, several years later, some levies gave way and bodies are floating in the streets of New Orleans. The once vibrant, colorful city streets are deserted and the Enchanted City is in mourning. I remember how it used to be and am engulfed with a deep sorrow. LIBRARY EXHIBITS ‘cont: ‘trem page 5 of clayi I than using an assortment of g glazes to decorate my ware. Maybe it is because that element of chance is at play when I throw the pieces on the wheel or make them by hand. How these pieces will eventually emerge remains a mystery until the process is completed. Except for the choice of clays, I have no control over their final decorative effect. Allowing the clay to talk instead of letting the colored glazes applied over the clay body do all the talking, appeals to me.” : cal Plein Aire painting by Ed Palmer. Abstract and Plein Paintings by Ed P: Ed Palmer has a Bachelor of Arts degree in Art with a composite major in ceramics and sculpture. He also has a Master of Science and Industrial Education from Brigham Young University. Presently, Palmer is study- categories: plein aire painting and a kind of abstract fantasy genre. He states, “I love the landscape and enjoy painting outdoors. In inclement weather or on days I teach and it is too dark by the time I get home, I work on still life subjects in my studio. Realistic painting has always attracted and challenged me. The paint tube still life’s are fun for me and allow me to cross over into abstract and fantasy paintings based on the squashed, deformed, and paint splattered old tubes most artists end up having around the studio.” For more information about these beautiful exhibits, please contact Sarah at 745-2220. Gage Froerer & Assoc. 801)745-4221 ream Come True" a oe built home & barn. Great ay location- VIEWS! 6,300(+) sq.ft. , 5 BD, 4.5 BA, GR, lg. kit., sun rm w/ re tub (a 3 car gar. $950,000 Call Joan 675-0444 Aire > Memories By Drienie Hattingh Eden Office FANTASTIC a eWToro RETREAT! 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