Yes I am still up on my soapbox

And I shall remain there until such a time as these states have recovered. So often with these sorts of disasters people flood charities with generosity then, as the media moves on to something else they do as well.

Not this time. I will do my part to make sure people know that those people will need our help for months to come.

Today I read an article about NOLA that made me smile. There is a reason why so many people fall in love with this city.

French Quarter forges on with stubborn hearts

'We're not helpless,' says cleanup crowd
By Bruce NolanStaff writer

Sunday, the sixth day after the apocalypse of wind, fire and flood visited New Orleans, Nancy Hirst stepped out of Johnny White's Sports Bar and Grill in the French Quarter and trilled, "There's buses leaving from Harrah's in a little while, if anybody's interested."None among the small crowd gathered outside in the empty street stirred.

Not bare-chested John Lambert, carrying a sign that read "Life goes on?"Not a woman in black fishnet stockings who called herself Jelly Sandwich ("'cause Jam don't shake like that"). And not Diana Straydog, an Apache Indian in flip-flops smoking an 8-inch Monte Cristo cigar.

Overhead, the whine and thump of heavy military helicopters reverberated through the nearly empty streets of the French Quarter. They circled on distant missions or streamed low overhead. Once a fleet of seven streamed over the triple spires of St. Louis Cathedral in a deafening roar.Armed police and sheriff's deputies from distant states patrolled Canal Street and walked through the French Quarter with sidearms and M-16 rifles. But the Quarter remained a determined flicker of its old self.

Although largely depopulated, it was not empty. And what filled it up was what people have always filled it with, which is what is in their hearts.At noon, the great bells of St. Louis Cathedral remained silent instead of tolling the hour as usual. The only sound filling the empty Place John Paul was the swish of Ty Watford's broom.Watford, his companion, Ashley McCoy, and a few friends swept leaves and branches accumulated from Hurricane Katrina and dumped them in city trash barrels.

The place looked parade-ground perfect."It's our neighborhood. We're not helpless," Watford said. "We can fix it ourselves. We don't have to wait for anybody."Watford and McCoy rode out the hurricane two blocks away on Dumaine Street, and three days ago they began sweeping there, out of pride and a desire to kill the boredom."You should see where we live," Watford said. "Our street looks like nothing ever happened."

On Saturday, they swept St. Anne and St. Peters streets flanking Jackson Square; Sunday was for the Place John Paul.

While reports abounded of anarchy outside the Quarter, Watford said he and McCoy never felt unsafe. "Every time somebody passes by, they ask if we need something. The French Quarter is as safe now as it's ever been."It was safe - even convivial - outside Johnny White's on the corner of Bourbon and Orleans, perhaps the only place in the Quarter serving, even if it was warm.

Ordinarily, during the Southern Decadence weekend, the Quarter would be packed with gay men and lesbians socializing in their annual celebration of gay culture.But after Katrina, this would have to do: Lambert, with his son; Straydog with her cigar; and Jelly Sandwich, who said her "Central Business District name" is Jill Sandars.

In time, they would head a few blocks away and start the traditional Sunday decadence parade. As usual, the rules were bent.Lambert, for one, spoke of having a girlfriend. "I guess you could say it's an excuse for people to come out and be whoever they are or whoever they want to be," he said. "There are so many dedicated people here, and they're not going to give up. You hear so many people outside saying they're not coming back."There's got to be at least as many who will."