New Orleans does not do quiet very well

One Louisiana politician seeing conspiracies in the latest attack

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Even when the Sugar Bowl was canceled, it still had not hit me.

Instead of the big football game, I decided to go to a late-night movie that had gotten good reviews.

One door closes, another opens.

But as the movie time approached, I felt more and more uneasy.

I had visited Bourbon Street earlier that morning

I watched the afternoon press conference from the politicians trying to get on national TV.

I watched an interview with a witness who described the horrific injuries of the victims.

It was sinking in.

I was processing.

When I walked Sophie earlier that evening, there was a hush over the neighborhood and little traffic.

Driving down S. Peter's Street toward the French Quarter was eerily quiet.

There were few cars and fewer people.

I asked the Uber driver if he had ever seen New Orleans like this.

He said he had not.

Neither had I.

Ten or so of us had sought out the movie as well, perhaps we were all trying to forget.

When I got out of movie theater after midnight, I waited for my ride on Iberville Street.

Iberville Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans was still closed Wednesday morning and into the night.

The street was still closed and you could see all the way up to Bourbon Street where there was still the eerie blue flashing lights of police cars.

And quiet.

Canal Street, one of the busiest streets in New Orleans, was closed as well. Police cars lined the thoroughfare as a deterrent.

It didn't take long to get me home.

When my son moved here two years ago, we were worried about him.

New Orleans led the nation in murders and crime was high. Naturally, Bourbon Street had its own sordid reputation.

He bought a condo in the Warehouse District so he could walk to work at the World War II Museum. When we visited, we stayed nearby and came to not only enjoy the neighborhood, but found it to be quiet and safe.

I've never lived in a big city before and that's why I'm here now.

For the experience.

Maybe, for the adventure.

Trying to decide what's next.

I've found there is an energy to New Orleans, a vibe that is part southern hospitality and part "anything goes" mentality.

I joke repeatedly there are "no rules" in New Orleans, no regulations.

I keep forgetting if you are ready to leave a bar, you can take it with you for the walk home.

There is something freeing about that.

The food is otherworldly.

But I've enjoyed walking the city streets most of all.

As my colleague Maury Thompson always said, you see a lot more on foot.

Just last week, I walked to Saints and Pelicans game and I was ready to do the same for the Sugar Bowl before it was canceled.

After the Pelicans lost a heartbreaker Monday, I walked the mile back from the Smoothie King Center late at night and was totally at ease on the deserted streets.

Then came New Year's Eve.

I was long gone from Bourbon Street by the time the attack happened at 3:15 that morning.

I was not affected, at first.

I was not bothered that I was in the proximity having a slice of pizza a few hours earlier with all those deliriously happy people. You couldn't help but wonder who stayed too long and who didn't.

When I read that an explosive device was left in a cooler at the corner of Bourbon and Orleans streets, I was taken aback. I walked right past that corner - twice - on New Year's Eve.

That bothered me.

My mind raced because I saw people wheeling coolers, but then I remembered that was down by the river.

Did I see the cooler on Bourbon Street?

I don't think so.

At some point during the evening while navigating the crush of the crowd, I considered the number of casualties a suicide bomber could inflict.

That's unlike me.

I don't think about worst-case scenarios and tragedies.

I don't think about shootings and mass casualty events because I know the statistics are on my side.

I did remember the small crane just past the Iberville Street intersection where I had pizza. I remembered stepping around it as the street narrowed because I had to slow down because there were so many people.

This was Bourbon Street at about 11 p.m. on New Year’s Eve.

It's what you need to know about Bourbon Street and why people go there. It is not the bars, or music or strip clubs, it is the parade of people. Those who are visiting are the attraction, the carnival of the human spirit and everyone wants to be part of that, even if just for a few hours.

Bourbon Street is kind of the ultimate freedom.

Attacking that may be the true crime here.

The Quarter was closed Wednesday night and with it the entire city of New Orleans.

There was no energy this night.

Just quiet.

And New Orleans does not do quiet well.

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Politicizing NOLA crisis

One thing you used to be able to count on after a crisis is politicians coming together for the greater good.

An afternoon press conference in New Orleans on New Year's Day, a Democratic mayor with a Republican governor both pledged to do everything they could to make the city safe and help investigators get to the bottom of the crime.

Then, there was Sen. John Kennedy who is no stranger to running his mouth and politicizing just about everything.

During the press conference, Sen. Kennedy hinted there were nefarious forces at work he could not talk about and that he was pressuring the Department of Homeland Security to devote all its resources in the investigation.

He also vowed to make sure there was no federal government "coverup."

No one knew what he was talking about.

Twenty-four hours later, authorities announced there was no conspiracy and the New Year's Eve crime was the product of one person.

Perhaps, Sen. Kennedy could clarify what he meant now.

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Sophie walk

New Year's Eve morning, Sophie and I walked down to Canal and Bourbon Street, then around what was open in the French Quarter.

I think Sophie is beginning to like city-life.

As we were coming down the sidewalk near Canal Street, a woman was power-washing the sidewalk in front of her business. She stopped to let us pass. Sophie was tentative.

"Sorry," I called out. "She doesn't like to get her feet wet."

"Well, she is in the wrong city for that," the woman said smiling.

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Ken Tingley spent more than four decades working in small community newspapers in upstate New York. Since retirement in 2020 he has written three books and is currently adapting his second book "The Last American Newspaper" into a play. He currently lives in Queensbury, N.Y.