Hope
Good morning, all. I'm tired as usual, sitting at my desk at work, reading through the Austin newspaper online. I've been reading the news about Katrina with growing interest as more Louisianans pour into my home state and city. Like everyone else, I've been saddened, horrified, and disheartened by the stories and pictures that have been coming from New Orleans. But, as I knew would happen, and as happens in the face of any disaster, the stories of faith, hope, and revival are surfacing.
One article is about the musical community that has been displaced into Austin. One of the Neville brothers, a jazz label exec, and many jazz musicians are holed up in hotels and temporary homes and Austin is welcoming them with gusto. Bars and clubs are already booking gigs for them. Cyril Neville is planning a weekly dinner to bring together the New Orleans musicians who suddenly find themselves in a city that, although new and different, has the same love of music as New Orleans. What amazes me is that these musicians are already getting into their groove. They're turning to what they love even after losing everything they own. And people in Austin, and other cities as well, are doing what they can to help them do that. And where would we all be without our music?
Another article is about people maintaining their faith after this disaster. There's a picture of a woman attending a Catholic Mass by herself on a Wednesday afternoon at the Austin Convention Center. She's wearing a garish red sweatshirt and a touristy bright red baseball cap, both of which remind that she's surviving on bare minimums. She seems out of place in that strange clothing, bowing her head in prayer, but isn't this whole situation out of place? It rose up out of our every day humdrum to remind us of how vulnerable we really are, even though we like to convince ourselves otherwise.
But, people are surviving. They're finding new jobs, enrolling their kids in new schools, turning back to the things they love to get them through. People are always stronger than they think they are. This is not to say that everything's going to be fine from now on. We've still got sad images to come as New Orleans resurfaces. There are still so many sad stories we haven't heard of families that have been splintered and will never be the same after their losses of cherished possessions and loved ones. But, the sun keeps rising every day, and these people will go on. And they WILL rebuild.
I hope it happens sooner rather than later. I've visited New Orleans twice, and it's the only city I've been in besides Austin where I felt at home. I wandered the city all day, looking at the architecture, the streets, the sky. The city is amazing. And to see it in ruin depresses me. All we can do is keep hoping.
Aren't I idealistic this morning? See what a little inspirational reading can do? Even for a cynical little bastard like me. Go figure.
Gonna get back to my paper now. Just had to share and spread a little hope. Have a good Thursday morning, all.
--Joseph
One article is about the musical community that has been displaced into Austin. One of the Neville brothers, a jazz label exec, and many jazz musicians are holed up in hotels and temporary homes and Austin is welcoming them with gusto. Bars and clubs are already booking gigs for them. Cyril Neville is planning a weekly dinner to bring together the New Orleans musicians who suddenly find themselves in a city that, although new and different, has the same love of music as New Orleans. What amazes me is that these musicians are already getting into their groove. They're turning to what they love even after losing everything they own. And people in Austin, and other cities as well, are doing what they can to help them do that. And where would we all be without our music?
Another article is about people maintaining their faith after this disaster. There's a picture of a woman attending a Catholic Mass by herself on a Wednesday afternoon at the Austin Convention Center. She's wearing a garish red sweatshirt and a touristy bright red baseball cap, both of which remind that she's surviving on bare minimums. She seems out of place in that strange clothing, bowing her head in prayer, but isn't this whole situation out of place? It rose up out of our every day humdrum to remind us of how vulnerable we really are, even though we like to convince ourselves otherwise.
But, people are surviving. They're finding new jobs, enrolling their kids in new schools, turning back to the things they love to get them through. People are always stronger than they think they are. This is not to say that everything's going to be fine from now on. We've still got sad images to come as New Orleans resurfaces. There are still so many sad stories we haven't heard of families that have been splintered and will never be the same after their losses of cherished possessions and loved ones. But, the sun keeps rising every day, and these people will go on. And they WILL rebuild.
I hope it happens sooner rather than later. I've visited New Orleans twice, and it's the only city I've been in besides Austin where I felt at home. I wandered the city all day, looking at the architecture, the streets, the sky. The city is amazing. And to see it in ruin depresses me. All we can do is keep hoping.
Aren't I idealistic this morning? See what a little inspirational reading can do? Even for a cynical little bastard like me. Go figure.
Gonna get back to my paper now. Just had to share and spread a little hope. Have a good Thursday morning, all.
--Joseph
posted by Joseph at 8:44 AM
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