An actor from the Lou returns to his adopted city
By Roland “Bob” Harris
For the St. Louis American
I was born here in St. Louis. For the last nine years I lived in New Orleans. I was forced to leave New Orleans on August 28 because of Hurricane Katrina.
Prior to Katrina’s devastation of New Orleans, I was making a pretty good living in the booming motion picture industry that had developed there. New Orleans had developed the nickname “Hollywood South.” I worked as an actor in television commercials and some six motion pictures. I also did pretty well as a singer and master of ceremony.
My most recent movie credits include Ray, which starred Academy Award winner Jamie Foxx. I also have a role in the soon-to-be-released Big Momma’s House 2 starring Martin Lawrence.
I worked on Double Jeopardy which starred Tommy Lee Jones and Ashley Judd. Unfortunately, my role was mostly left on the editor’s cutting room floor. I am only seen very briefly in one scene. I still get my residuals for my services on the film, and my name appears in the credits as The Preacher. Although I defy you to locate The Preacher!
My good friend and confidante Jeter Thompson of Trio Tres Bien suggested I contact the American when we were discussing the various rumors and misinformation about what took place during and after the Katrina disaster. For example, the vilification of my mayor, Mayor Ray Nagin. Nagin did all he could to save the lives of the citizens of New Orleans. Days before Katrina hit New Orleans, Nagin pleaded with us to get out of New Orleans and to prepare for the worst-case scenario. He also made it very clear that there would be no public services to aid those who stayed behind.
Leaving New Orleans was rather difficult for me. Like most evacuees, I was leaving behind everything I owned. Since my arrival in St. Louis, I have dreamt of nothing but getting back to New Orleans to see what, if anything, is left of my personal belongings. I needed closure. I was rather optimistic, because my apartment was located on the tenth floor of a brick building.
So two weeks ago, my good friend Issac Butler and I drove down to New Orleans. Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw. As we approached New Orleans, we saw a lot of houses that had been completely destroyed. We saw boats on Interstate 10. As we got nearer to where I lived, in New Orleans East or what was known as the Upper 9th Ward, the devastation got worse.
Nothing looked anything like I remembered it. It was so quiet and filthy. There was once a big park, Joe Brown Park, across the street from where I lived. It looked like a junk yard. All the big trees in front of our building had been knocked down. The bottom floor of my building had been completely destroyed. There was this horrible smell. But most outstanding was a floodline on every stationary object that was six feet in height or higher.
Since there was no electricity and we had no flashlights, Issac and I decided that we would not attempt to traverse the 10 flights of stairs up to my apartment. Plus, we were afraid of the mold and mildew spores in the air. Not only that, but we had no idea as to what wildlife – snakes, alligators – may have found refuge up those stairs.
Issac and I became very depressed at the sight of all of this devastation. To know that all of these places were once the homes and workplaces of thousands of people who were now displaced and scattered around the country.
As I had prepared to leave New Orleans before the hurricane hit, I saw one of my neighbors, Ms. Erma, sitting in the lobby of my building in her wheelchair. Upon her lap she held her walker. I held a special place in my heart for Ms. Erma. My mother’s name was Erma. Plus, Ms. Erma resembled my mother.
I ask her if she was evacuating.
Her reply was, “Where to?”
I often wondered if she and the other residents who stayed behind were rescued.
Well, I got the shock of my life upon my return to New Orleans. The most heartwrenching sight I saw among the debris was a walker like the one Ms. Erma was holding on her lap when I last saw here as I was leaving the building.