New Orleans - Day two

Well, we have certainly been busy. We are working on a home for Mr. and Mrs. Elliot in the Gentilly neighborhood. The entire neighborhood was under water -- along with 80 percent of the city of New Orleans.

While there has been much improvement to the city housing issues as a whole, an outrageous number of people are still without homes to live in.

The Elliot's are some of them. They are a family with grown children and they have adopted a couple of young children from what we know so far. Their home is quite large, actually. There are four bedrooms and two baths. There are 18 doors in the house. And today, put on nine door knobs.

Up until today, I had never installed a door knob. So, quite frankly, I am rather proud of myself. We have been painting and installing shelving. We are putting on the finishing touches. All that is left on the punch list is a little clean up and then the electricians, plumbers and appliance guys will come in and finish their deals. Most important, soon the Elliot's will be able to come home. They have been waiting nearly four years.

After work tonight we drove down to the lower 9th ward -- ground zero, as some refer to it.

I have been to the 9th ward three times now. Each time, I get an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Loneliness. Emptiness.

Not for me, but I feel for the people who used to call the neighborhood home.

I walk the streets that used to have children playing soccer, double-dutch, laughing and riding bikes. There is none of that. I can imagine clothes hanging on the line blowing in the breeze. Folks sitting on their front porch in the afternoon talking to neighbors as the stop by. There is none of that.

A few homes still sit in shambles. A few fema trailers remain. Many front door steps lead up to nowhere as the homes have been demolished. A few piles of rubble remain scattered here and there. Grass grows on some lawns to waist high. It is very lonely.

Yet there is also a deep sense of hope.

There are many brand new homes being built. And they are pretty cool.

They are built higher than the older homes that were there before. They are about 12 to 15 feet on cement pillars. Cars park under the homes and elaborate staircases lead the families to their front doors. Many have solar panels on the rooftops. These new homes are being built, or contracted by a company called Make It right. I will find out more about them, and let you know.

That is the hope. People do want to return to their neighborhoods. They want to come home.

I stood for the first time on the Levy by the canal where a barge hit the wall. I was speechless. I stared for a while in silence. And then started shooting. I will post some photos to my blog within a few days (hopefully).

We drove through Musicians Village on the way home. The original theory behind the neighborhood. A man from a radio station decided that in order to get people to come back to the city, they needed the music. In order to get the musicians to come back, they needed homes. He organized a deal with Habitat for Humanity and they began building homes the musicians could afford in order to come back.

And the music played on. The people came back.

The homes are brightly colored and all about the same style and size. But each one is unique.

We met "David" who is a very friendly old guy living in Musicians Village. He told us the story and showed us his home.

He said, "You know, I could never understand how people could live in California where they continually have earthquakes. Those people keep going back and rebuilding after each earthquake. I never understood. Until Katrina. Until I had to move away from New Orleans and live in Texas. I never wanted to come home before so much as I did after living in Texas. This is my home. And I am back to stay."

Peace.