Greetings,

Carol Hovis here, writing from the North Rampart Street Community Center in New Orleans, Louisiana. Last time I was in New Orleans was August of 1987, driving cross-country with my college friend and fellow seminarian, Amy. Times change, in lots of ways. Mostly through the lenses I wear and use to see the world around me. 21 years ago I did not see the poverty of New Orleans when we visited my relatives in the Garden District and strolled the famous streets of the French Quarter.

The French Quarter is still very fun and close to where we are staying, so it's easy to get there and take another stroll. Food is good; lots of life in the French Quarter; music and the "crazy anything goes" that makes New Orleans unique.

Yet, I don't see or experience any life as we drive by neighborhood after neighborhood of closed retail buildings, abandoned apartment buildings, uninhabited homes, broken glass, shuttered windows, collapsed roofs, piles of debris. It goes on for miles.

Is this the United States? When did this storm occur? Maybe a few months ago?

My mind and heart still cannot register the fact that Katrina hit 2 and a half years ago; it will be 3 years this August. Has there ever been in my almost 46 years of life an example of such devastation? And this is just the city of New Orleans? What about other parts of Louisiana and Mississippi?

It is clear to me that what happened here in August 2005 was a watershed moment, pardon the pun. Every American should know the exact date of when Katrina hit the Gulf Coast like we know the date of September 11, 2001.

There are many cities and towns throughout the United States and around the world where the poorest of the poor will suffer the most when a human and/or natural disaster strikes. In our own Marin County, California, we know that the Canal community is especially at risk the next time the Hayward fault trembles.

So, what to do with this new vision? These new lens? Seeing the world from the perspective of the poor, the maginalized, the forgotten?

Our week here only re-confirms my response of "Yes" to God's question to the prophet in Ezekiel 37: "Can these bones live?"

I have seen dry, tired bones fill up with life and spirit in our group of 23 persons. Our interreligious, multicultural, intergenerational group inspires me to remember again that most of people on this planet practice kindness and compassion and seek justice for our earth.

On Monday we met the owner of the home on which we are working this week. With her daugher and sister, she talked about returning home to New Orleans from where she is staying in Houston. Both she and others who visited the house, called us "angels." The sense of new life and new hope for their weary, dry bones was palpable.

On Wednesday, we met with community leaders from the Jeremiah Group, a community organizing institution in New Orleans for about 13 years. Their work both pre-Katrina and post-Katrina inspires and encourages me about the power of organized people. The road ahead for New Orleans is long, hard and will have many twists and turns. The Jeremiah leaders believe it will take 10-20 years to completely rebuild New Orleans. A generation. Yet, they are determined, strong, smart, articulate and ready for the challenge. Their work here breathes new life into my sad, angry, dry bones.

Can these bones live?

You better believe it!

With love and gratitude,

Carol