Let It Shine
I’m a train kinda guy. So what to do in New Orleans? Ride the historic street cars, of course. Bought a day-pass for the mass transit system, walked around town, and then boarded the street cars to see more of town. After walking much of the day, I started finding more excuses to hop on the street cars.
I got to see a lot of New Orleans (downtown, at least), and did it all on $5. Soon after breakfast, I walked the two blocks from my hotel to the famous Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. I walked down to the St. Louis Cathedral, passing Preservation Hall and then to the French Market. From there I walked back to Canal Street and rode the street car up to City Park and back. After lunch I rode the St. Charles line out past the Garden District and Tulane University. An evening ferry ride (free!) across the river and back allowed me to view the skyline and spend a few minutes on the water.
Back to Bourbon Street. Blocks and blocks of bars and cabarets. Very surreal in the morning hours, the shop owners slowly cleaning and re-opening, tending to their storefronts much as suburbanites tend to their front lawns on a quiet Saturday morning. As the required New Orleans experience, I went back down to Bourbon Street last night. At about 9:30 PM, it was still early, relatively, and the crowds were present but not overwhelming. What was overwhelming was the number of bar and cabaret staff, seemingly too many of them, standing throughout the street trying to draw customers into their establishments. The music is overwhelming, with every bar having a different band–everything from country to classic hard rock could be heard, so choose your poison, I guess. There were several families still out and walking up and down the street, perhaps it’s a way to impress upon youngsters just how stupidly adults can behave when mass quantities of alcohol are involved. Before heading back, I enjoyed an adult beverage at an outdoor patio listening to some jazz. It was pleasant. Very pleasant.
I was on the return trip into downtown on the St. Charles street car when a group of 25 got on. They crammed in the back, where I was already sitting, some standing, some finding seats. It was mostly what appeared to be younger high school aged young men and women, and I learned that were a mission group from a Methodist Church in Kansas City. They had finished up their week of volunteer work and were heading into town for some fun and relaxation after the many days of work. One of them asked me something along the lines of whether I was annoyed to all of a sudden be surrounded by a large group of unexperienced mass transit riders. To which, I said, “nah, not at all. In fact, I’m more often in one of those groups!” They spoke about their work experience during the week, quickly forgetting that I wasn’t “in” on the inside jokes. Their excitement over getting to spend the evening downtown and have some fun was contagious. They had toured the Lower Ninth Ward sometime during the week, and although they had certainly done a tremendous amount to help this week, you could see the despair in their eyes as they related what they saw still today in that devastated area. As we all got off at Canal Street and said our respective “safe travels,” I was simply reminded of how much I enjoy working with adolescents. Though most wear a hard shell, they, most often, are some of the most caring, wondering, and eager to explore people on the planet. I am reminded of the words of a Dan Fogelberg song we used to sing at Storer Camps:
There’s a light in the depths of your darkness
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
What a great reminder of the trips that I used to lead from our Ferndale UMYF group. Hope that all of ya’ll are doing fine. And it’s about time for me to get back involved in such a group around my town.
It’s back to the train station now, for the ride on the Sunset Limited to Los Angeles. Two nights in a row on the same train — this is the longest stretch on the same train for me this trip. Should be fun. All aboard!
Credits: “There’s a Place in the World for a Gambler,” Dan Fogelberg, from the album Souvenirs.
