My blog might be nameless, but I'm Tim. Basics: 48 years old, married, one child. I'm a Registered Professional Engineer in Louisiana and an active member of the American Society of Civil Engineers. I have over 15 years experience as an engineer working in the private and public sectors. I currently work for the Corps of Engineers in New Orleans. This is my personal blog. The views expressed here in no way represent the views or policies of the Corps or any other group or organization discussed here. This blog is entirely my thoughts, my personal observations and my vision for New Orleans, my home.
Ray Nagin never sounded better. Welling up through the opening beats of "What's Going On," the angry plea of the chief executive captures the moment perfectly.
Chaos. Fear. Abandonment.
This was New Orleans in the days after Hurricane Katrina struck. Floodwalls failed. Levees washed away. The city, the state, the Federal government almost totally overwhelmed to the point of uselessness. It was triple a disaster: what happened before, during and after almost killed an American city.
The soulful horns of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band pull it back together. In their 2006 release, "What's Going On," they re-invent the classic Marvin Gaye song, reminding us of the timeless message that "war is not the answer."
It was not then and it is not now.
In stark contrast to impotent Mayor Nagin, Chuck D. powerfully calls out the political and moral failures that allowed this tragedy to happen. Lyrics are not included in the CD and I've also searched online with no success. So the lyrics I post here are my best effort at transcribing Chuck D's rap.
"What's going on When all them guns is drawn? Here's a memo--remember? There's a few wars going on-- A couple overseas and on my front lawn."
"No Child Left Behind, what? You think we're all blind, Well even the blind coulda seen her Aftermath of Katrina."
At first listen the song might appear to struggle with itself, the easy pace and laid-back horn arrangements moving in a steady shuffle while Chuck D of Public Enemy fame raps angrily in sharp staccato. But the two meld and counter each other in rhythmic and harmonic ways that surprised me each time I listened to it.
What was going on--when the levees and walls were first so poorly designed? When Congress failed to properly finance their construction? When politicians allowed citizens to build and live in an unsafe city? When local, state and federal responders almost all failed to respond? These questions flooded our thoughts and actions during the disaster and for months and years afterwards.
Chuch D and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, for their part, suggest that a nation distracted and diverting its resources to wars in far away places might not ever be able to prevent or properly respond when such disasters occur. In this observation, they maintain the anti-war sentiment of the original song. It's a message that needs to be repeated, unfortunately, over and over again.
In the face of the almost unspeakable destruction here in 2005, a group of local Bloggers resolved to sponsor a conference on the future of New Orleans. That was the first Rising Tide Conference.
Each year the conference has improved upon the year before with engaging programming and activist networking unlike any event in the city. This year the conference is again taking place in the immediate aftermath of an event of almost unspeakable destruction.
Rising Tide V will be on Saturday, August 28 in the larger venue of The Howlin' Wolf in the warehouse district of NOLA. Find all the details at www.risingtidenola.com.
When you register, be sure to order this year's beautiful poster and a t-shirt created by local artist (and blogger) Greg Peters. And if you want to be a part of the Oilzilla relief effort, you can join Rising Tide in support of Second Harvest Food Bank the day before the conference. You must sign up in advance to volunteer.
I first saw Andy J. Forest perform at the Mirliton Festival in Bywater a couple years after Hurricane Katrina. He and the band put out a sturdy rendition of 3-chord blues appropriately punctuated with fuzzed-out guitar solos and grinding harmonica. I bought their 2007 CD "Real Stories" shortly afterwards and I’ve enjoyed it ever since.
The first cut tells the saddest story of them all, the story of Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath with just the right sardonic tone to keep it from rummaging too deeply into the most painful memories. Forest applies the blame generously: everyone gets a shout out: from Mayor Nagin to the Army Corps of Engineers to the President, who provides the title line, “Let’em Die.”
The song is well paced with an outstanding harp solo and sturdy guitar riffing that is sure to snare the table-top drummer in all of us. Forest's phrasing helps him fit all the right words into his lyrics, a technique that almost approaches modern rapping. But have no fear, "Let'em Die" is a blues song from top to bottom with a chorus of singers repeating the refrain like a church choir might repeat a prayer.
It's a dark view of what went down in 2005, but in the tradition of all great blues, revisiting those tragic events seems to provide the will and the energy to go on. The CD was well received and even won a local "Best of the Beat" award for blues.
It starts with horns blowing a tight and urgent alarm. It builds with intensity and anxiety like the soundtrack of a Hitchcock film. And then it breaks into a smooth groove that can only be achieved by a great New Orleans brass line.
Bonerama retells the tale of "Mr. Go," that much hated shipping channel that runs from near Michoud in New Orleans East out to the Gulf of Mexico.
"Twenty feet of water on my crowd, Mr. Go you bringing me down. Cypress swamps used to be, Mr. Go it's broken these. St. Bernard and Plaquemines, Lower Nine coming back again. I don't know what's been said, Mr. Go you killed them dead."
Craig Klein wrote and sings the lament, delivered at a slightly slower pace than a march, but with an arrangement that soldiers forward through the blues and into post-K victory.
From the CD "Bringing it Home," "Mr. Go" is just one of the outstanding tracks on this 2007 collection of bone-crunching covers and brass-jam originals. Bonerama bills itself as a rock band, and sometimes they really are. But that label limits their artistry in so many ways.
Just listen to the creative use of the sousaphone on this track. New Orleans brass bands know how to toot the tuba at the end of each chord progression, but Bonerama gives the lowest horn an entire solo lead toward the end of the song. That alone is worth the price of admission.
Bonerama recorded "Bringing it Home" at Tipitina's so the CD captures all the spontaneity of a live show that you wish you had been a part of. Regular readers of this blog will know that science does not validate the popular belief that the MR-GO served as a "storm surge super highway" during Hurricane Katrina. But I will not quibble with facts here--this is good rock'n'roll and I love it.
In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, we New Orleaneans had to endure the endless cast of professional pundits and social commentators telling us that New Orleans was "worth saving" because we gave two great gifts to America: food and music.
Forget that all American citizens deserve equal protection under law and the basic rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That seemed to be not enough to warrant serious response to the crisis. America needed more. America needed to know that if bad things happened to New Orleans, bad things would happen to America’s food and music.
But that is not what I want to blog about today. No, today and in several weekly blog posts to follow, I want to acknowledge the tremendous contributions New Orleans has made to music in America and even, in the world. And I want to focus in particular on the impact Katrina had on the music of this city.
It is said that, "Blues ain't nothing but a good man feeling down." Lester Bangs once noted that rock'n'roll is "The sound of restless youth." And it was George Harrison who once opined that pop music is just "Happy songs about sad things."
Citizens of NOLA have boatloads of all of the above. Local musicians, experiencing it probably more than the average New Orleanean, have found ways to express these emotions in music.
Feelings of sadness, frustration, doubt and, yes, conviction, courage and perseverance are expressed in many post-K compositions. And on top of it all, overwhelming, undaunted joy.
Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some of my favorite local expressions of what the combined forces of nature and politics have done to coastal Louisiana--and the unbridled determination to rise above.
When I listen to these songs, I alternately feel the sadness and the joy, the tragedy and the triumph. It's what makes all great music great, and, in my admittedly biased opinion, it's what makes New Orleans music the greatest of all.
Over the to left there I've put a big 'ole button for Rising Tide V. That's the annual new media conference on the future of New Orleans I've been happy to be associated with for the last few years.
Registration is just $20 and it includes a full day of great speakers and presentations, a light breakfast, a hearty lunch, and the unique chance to meet some of the people behind the voices in the NOLA Bloggers community.
The official line-up of speakers will be announced shortly, but as an "insider" I happen to know that someone who regularly writes at this blog will probably be part of the program. The keynote speaker is typically the best of all, of course, but I'm afraid I can't divulge any information on who that might be this year. Just remember that we had actor and activist Harry Shearer and author and levee board member John Barry in the past, so the bar is set high--and we intend to move it higher.
To keep up with this developing story, plug into Rising Tide via your favorite social media platform:
I expect trash talk on talk radio. The radio station operators deliver it in super-sized portions because their target audience responds to it and keeps coming back for more. But I have higher expectations from the print medium.
Editors at The Washington Post this week demonstrated they do not have similarly high expectations of us.
In a story about the "suspicious" outcome of an election in South Carolina, it is suggested that the election was tainted by Louisiana. We may well marvel at the imaginative excuses South Carolina Democrats are concocting to explain the unexpected outcome of their recent primary; after all, desperate people will do desperate things.
But what shocked me is the absolute cavalier and reckless manner in which The Washington Post offers credence to the wild and unfounded accusation.
"Louisiana, after all, does political shenanigans more colorfully and brazenly than most," writes staff writer Mr. Manuel Roig-Franzia.
A reputable journalist would have written, “There is absolutely no evidence or fact to support the accusation.”
Ignoring the fact that political shenanigans are epidemic throughout America at all levels of politics, The Washington Post smugly invites readers to roll their eyes in group derision and disgust at the mere mention of the Bayou State. I wonder to what other dehumanizing stereotypes does Mr. Roig-Franzia subscribe?
You can easily imagine the thought process that drove the publication of this story. In lieu of fact-checking and respect for fellow Americans, the Post dumps mightily on an entire state with a chortle and a wink.
“Heck, fellas, it's LOUISIANA--what evidence is needed?”
I wrote to the Post to complain but received no response. Fortunately my sister-in-law in Virginia, who first alerted me to this insult of the entire population of Louisiana, also wrote. Her letter was published today.
It was suggested to me that defending the honor of Louisiana politicians is a fool’s campaign. But I don’t see this as defending our soiled past; this is defending our future. It is just as much about calling out the hypocrisy of the Post to call attention to the splinter in our eye while overlooking the timber in their own.
As my sister-in-law pointed out, “Convicted former Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards is doing time in the penitentiary while convicted former D.C. mayor Marion Barry is doing time on the city council. Did somebody say ‘brazen’?”
So the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:
"We will do what it takes. We will stay as long as it takes to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives."
Remember those words?
That was in 2005.
And in 2010, the president goes on national television for a prime time speech on the ongoing crisis. In a stern tone that assures us he's serious, the president pledges:
"We will fight this spill with everything we’ve got for as long as it takes...And we will do whatever’s necessary to help the Gulf Coast and its people recover from this tragedy."
So forgive me if I'm cynical, because I am.
I've often said that the only real difference between the two major political parties is the color of their neckties. And so far, when I compare the response to Hurricanes Katrina and Rita to the response to the current oil-pocalypse in the Gulf of Mexico, I don't see much improvement in 5 years.
President Obama, prove me wrong. Show us that your words are not simply more campaign rhetoric. Make me take my words back and write a blog about how you turned out to be a man of your word. Because I'll do it--I'll gladly eat crow online for all the world to see.
Several of the NOLA Bloggers are drawing parallels between the ongoing BP oil geyser disaster and the catastrophic failure of floodwalls protecting New Orleans in 2005. I certainly agree that there may be similarities in these two different engineering debacles, but we have to be careful.
There is still a lot we don't know about what happened out in the Gulf of Mexico last month and why all the safeguards, standards, precautions, fail-safe systems, redundancies and the workers who lost their lives were not able to avoid or contain the dangerous conditions of mineral extraction. Until we do know--and that may be years--we need to keep an open mind to all the possibilities.
In contrast to the BP disaster, we now know a great deal about what happened and why before, during and after Hurricane Katrina. At different locations where constructed features did not perform properly we know there were specific reasons that those point failures occurred.
But the most significant and dangerous condition was not the result of a single point of failure or isolated bad engineering decision. The most devastating factor in my opinion was what is known as "The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions."
Simply put, during the long trek from project conception to operation, a long list of changes and compromises were made that individually didn't seem significant but which added up in a project doomed to failure. Some of those decisions may have been the result of budget pressures, or local preferences, or just ill-informed good intentions. Poor Richard advised that small strokes fell great oaks; The Tyranny of Incremental Decisions can be viewed in that manner.
As we learn more about the BP oil geyser disaster, I won't be surprised if the news media, politicians and many private citizens clamor for a single point of failure, a "smoking gun" that can be blamed. There may well be one. But I would not be surprised to learn that a series of decisions made by different people at different times had a large role to play in undermining the overall safety and reliability of the drilling operation.
