That Mardi Gras happened at all in 2006 felt like an incredible feat.
A mere six months before, New Orleans had suffered one of the biggest disasters in United States history. On August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina had devastated the Gulf Coast, killing nearly 2,000 people. In New Orleans, the disaster that we call Katrina was largely due to 50 breaches of the federal levee system that left lives and property in ruins: 80% of the city flooded.
When Carnival season rolled around, between 100,000 to 160,000 residents were back, about a quarter of the original population of Orleans Parish. Neighborhoods were wrecked.
Hardly anything seemed worthy of celebrating. Except everyone wanted and needed the kind of emotional release that comes with Carnival. We needed one day that brought New Orleans back to normal – or the abnormal, some would say.
The day turned into a revival, a purposeful satire of tragedy as only New Orleans can do.
We are both photographers and know the city well, through our lenses and our lives.
Tyrone was born in New Orleans and grew up in a house right along the 17th Street Canal, one of the canals whose levees breached and released floodwaters into the city during the Katrina disaster. Most of Tyrone’s family still lives in the metro area. After we married in the 1990s, Tyrone’s hometown and family became Susan’s as well.
The city has always felt like home, no matter where we lived. When Hurricane Katrina made landfall, Tyrone was hired to cover the storm and its aftermath. Susan was at our home outside D.C. and became a hub of communications for our family. She worked the phones to find the helicopters and small planes from which Tyrone could make aerial photographs of the destruction. Because phones with 504 area codes had spotty, or no service, Tyrone’s family members that had evacuated to Texas and Mississippi could not contact each other. So they would pass messages to each other through Susan.
It felt important for us to be home in New Orleans together for the first Mardi Gras after Katrina to reunite with family and check on friends. On Lundi Gras, we strolled through a gathering called the Blue Tarp Celebration near the French Quarter. Participants in the fashion show and parade had created beautiful apparel – dresses, hats, sashes, and pants – from FEMA-blue tarps, the ubiquitous blue plastic sheeting that covered damaged roofs.
The next day, we were up early. It’s our favorite time to enjoy Mardi Gras in the French Quarter. With our two kids dressed as Spiderman and a fairy princess, we joined the early morning crowds of revelers and walked with family and friends. The mood was one of dizzy exuberance.
There were many Katrina-related costumes, but some of the most memorable carried pointed criticisms of the federal response to Katrina with references to then-President Bush, FEMA and the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers. In the face of so much uncertainty, the catharsis of art provided a way to assert a measure of control.
Mardi Gras 2006 didn’t change the reality of what the city was facing. A long recovery still laid ahead – and some of it is still left undone, even as the 20th anniversary of Katrina approaches. But on that day in 2006, New Orleans held fast to the traditions that define it and bind it.
The city lost so much. Those who lived there lost so much. But as we looked back at these photos taken that day, it was clear that New Orleans did not lose its vital spirit.
