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A ghost town

The French Quarter is usually the happeningest (I know that's not a word, but there's a hurricane coming and my mind's not quite right, so give me a little leeway.)

Anyway, the Quarter, for those of you unfamiliar with New Orleans, is what many people think of when they think of this city. It's only a few blocks wide and about 10-12 long, filled with every kind of shop and business imaginable. During peak tourist season, you can hardly walk down many of the streets because of the crowds. Oh, yeah, and there's this street called Bourbon Street, which contains every debauchery under the sun. (Not that I know from personal experience, of course. A friend of a friend of a friend told me.)

I went down to the Quarter last night (Friday) with a friend for dinner, and it was a ghost town. Most of the streets were empty, save for the policemen guarding already boarded up businesses. ATMs had signs on them letting any potential looter know that all of the money had already been removed. One parking garage had warned customers that if - and at this point, mostly likely when - the governor issues a mandatory evacuation order, that people will have exactly five hours to remove their cars. At five hours and one minute, the garage will be locked.

Even the few businesses that were open Friday had signs posted, saying they would be closing Saturday. Until further notice. On the signs, there was no certainty about when life in the city would return to normal. People learned from Katrina that it could months, if not years, before normalcy took hold.

Word on the street last night was that hotels had also already gently nudged their guests out or let everyone know that they would be closing as well. Everyone learned their lesson from Katrina. Prepare for the worst.

The bartenders, waitresses, parking attendants and other people who are the motor that keeps the Quarter afloat all had worried looks. I ended up last night at Pat O'Brien's, a notorious New Orleans bar known as the home of the hurricane drink, which is extremely strong and potent. (A friend of a friend of a friend told me.)

I talked with the bathroom attendant who kept checking her phone. She and some of her friends planned to leave the city later Friday night. She planned to get off work sometime between midnight and 2ish, depending on when her bosses let her go. She was going to go home, take a quick power nap, and then hit the road, headed for Mississippi.

She prayed that this time wouldn't be like that other time. It was the wish of everyone in the Quarter last night.

Posted by Lara Richards at 5:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)