Where the other half live(d)

Lived, because very few people still live in New Orleans' Lower Ninth ward. It's impossible for me to convey the lingering devastation in that part of town. I'm sure words can describe the situation on the ground, but nothing I can compose would do it justice.

Four years later, the infamous markings on the houses used by search-and-rescue teams are still there -- some faded, some as vivid as when they were sprayed. Some families live in the houses, and kids walk past these markings as they run in and out of their front doors.

I didn't take pictures, and if I had I'm not sure I would post them here, or anywhere. They are already all over the Internet. And these are peoples' homes, whether the owners are dead or alive, long gone or staying put.

Come to think of it, the lower ninth has no lingering devastation. That takes the situation quite lightly. Only a 15-minute drive from the French Quarter and this weekend's Hallowe'en parties, there sits a neighbourhood -- and there are others -- that died four years ago.

It might be on life support now, and things might be improving in small doses, but a refurbished lower ninth wouldn't be a resurrection. It would be a new neighbourhood built on top of a graveyard.

That's not all there is to say. Not even close. But everyone should come to New Orleans and understand the situation. It is dire.

I did it again. I understated it.