New Orleans, Louisiana isn't your typical city. The people are all friendly as they pass you by, the streets are filled with music which can be heard from miles around, and the endless bars all celebrate happy hour all day every day. Simply put, this is my kind of city.

But beneath the advantageous atmosphere and in between each minute of every hour lies a sorrowful story. As I walk through the endless maze of bright lights and motionless street performers, amid the historical buildings, I can see the colors of a dark past. Five years after Hurricane Katrina, here I am in this great city, yet as hard as I try to ignore it, the truth remains. At least 1,836 people lost their lives in the actual hurricane and in the subsequent floods, making it the deadliest U.S. hurricane since the 1928. Where the buildings meet the streets, there are cracked foundations, water stains on the cement, and puddles of dried up tears. People died in these very streets, and our great country just stood by and waited for the storm to pass. I see the devastated homes and desolate landscapes. I can feel the powerful winds and drenching rains. This poor city had once filled with water and drowned in hardship, left to fend for itself during a time when they needed help the most. Most people I know in the cities I have been to would have given up. They would have thrown in the towel and ran for the hills. But these people did just the opposite. They stood tall, stood together, and persevered.

'Semper Paratus' means 'Always Ready' and it is the motto of the United States Coast Guard. As I wonder the streets of New Orleans, that phrase takes on new meaning for me. The uniformed men and woman did all they could, but it wasn't enough. The people of this city required so much more, and they were able to find it within themselves in the weeks, months, and years following Katrina. Every once and a while we are all tested as human beings; I remember seeing Ground Zero for the first time. Standing there staring at a giant hole in the ground, I felt one of my favorite feelings in the world, a feeling that I have coined as 'Insignificant Significance.' Its the feeling of being surrounded by the hustle of every day life, but having time frozen all around you. I was overwhelmed with this feeling in New York City, and again here in New Orleans. "3,689 Lives Saved" the sign reads. To many that is just a number, but to me that is the definition of our human spirit.



Welcome to New Orleans, a one of a kind place so immersed in culture that even when the flood gates opened, the people continued to play their instruments and dip their paint brushes. My experience here will not soon be forgotten. LeRoi Moore, former saxophonist and founding member of the Dave Matthews Band, called New Orleans a hotbed for musical talent. Before he died in 2008, he went to this place to play his music and find his voice. Without saying a word, I also found my voice here, life is suddenly clear and through the eyes of a different perception, I see all that is good in the people here. They are the reason this city is so colorful and beautiful. I sit for an hour and a half on a Bourbon Street curb, watching and listening to a impromptu concert from others who also found their voice in this city. Around the corner, cracked tiles and abandoned structures. Amid the crowds of people, a city's spirit lives on through a random group of musicians and their horns and drums. The sound of life all around us, and it sounds heroic.

New Orleans is not your typical city. It's a place people escape in order to find themselves. A place once destroyed by a natural disaster, and rebuilt on hope and dreams of the people who love to live here. If the opportunity to visit this great place ever presents itself, do yourself a favor and go. Go just once to see what I saw and hear what I heard. Encounter the silent street performers and beautiful jazz music, and get drunk on life during the endless happy hour that is the great City of New Orleans.