I have a schizophrenic heart. Its chambers echo with beats from two cities. New Orleans jazz and Columbus blues blend in rhythms that are sometimes archaic, sometimes contemporary, always miraculous. The taunts of rival Indian tribes (Mardi Gras Indians, that is) and Big Joe Shelton’s amazing harmonica are all objects of my bipolar love.
Last Tuesday was Mardi Gras Day, the last big blowout before Lent, the 40 days and 40 nights that we (supposedly) fast and repent.
In New Orleans, we would have spent the day in the Quarter, meeting friends, going from party to party, watching all the wonderful costumes on Rue Royal, every minute delightful.
In Columbus, we began by bringing a big pot of red beans and rice to Marleen Hansen’s class at The W. From there, we went to observe the City Council meeting and then to a community meeting about the rise in crime. A full day, I suppose; but, except for the class, none of it was actually fun.
There are many similarities between my two cities. Both are beautiful, with exquisite and unique homes. Both have warm people, who really know the meaning of “Southern hospitality.”
The differences are worth mentioning as well. Columbus has changes in seasons, something I longed for in the sub-tropical climate of a city carved from the Louisiana swamp. In my first years here I loved the sense of safety, the feeling that urban crime and violence were so very far behind me.
But, that is an impression that has vanished. The local news is filled with burglaries, and even more terrifying, home invasions. Crime seems to be the only subject discussed these days. Everyone is concerned. No one knows what to do.
Many people have banded together on a Facebook page. Those ranks are now 4,500 strong. They report criminal activity in their neighborhoods, suspicious vehicles, all behaviors that seem questionable. When descriptions, and sometimes license plate numbers, go up on the Internet, people pay attention. We are all watching.
I often wonder if the threat of imprisonment is truly a deterrent. Evidence does not support that, judging from recidivism rates. However, the idea that entire neighborhoods are on guard just may be a preventive. Columbus and Lowndes County have spawned a troupe of citizen-police, and that is working. Amazingly, crime is starting to diminish.
For many years, I owned a business on Magazine Street in Uptown New Orleans. That tiny shop was burglarized so many times that I lost count. The same policemen responded often enough for us to know their names.
After each incident we made changes. We installed brighter lights outside, more and stronger locks, window bars. The criminals were undeterred.
My sister/partner and I began to take home the things that were most often stolen. Every night we packed a big plastic beach-bag with our clocks and calculators and rolls of stamps. Since we usually went to dinner after work, this awkward tote came into restaurants with us. This was not a pleasant way to live. It breaks my heart to think that I might again have to function in such fear.
New Orleans and Columbus are locales that do not have the sameness found in most other towns. They have character and charm and distinctive music that compel tourists to visit. I pray that we in Columbus reclaim the sense of security that helps make this area so desirable. If we do not, how then can we invite visitors whose welfare cannot be guaranteed?
My wish is for my heart to beat only with my deep love for both cities, and not with the terror of crime and criminals.
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina. Email reaches her at [email protected].
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina.
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