I flew into New Orleans Oct 3, 2005. When I crossed the airplane threshold the sickly stench of mold & mildew told me I'd arrived. A quick ride into the city revealed a ghost town dotted with working men of every size, shape and color. As Mari and I drove through the French Quarter there were small if only XXX signs the area was coming back.
My travels ended in Turkey Creek Mississippi, a historically Black town inhabited by 7th generation decendants of its founders.
