My mother, Carol
Chatelain Guerin, was merely one of countless individuals whose lives were
affected when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans .
But my mother’s life in New
Orleans was as much a personification of this city as
anyone’s. A Catholic mother of four, she
graduated from Mount Carmel High in 1957, worked at D.H. Holmes on Canal Street , and
married a Tulane graduate. Of course, it
was music that brought them together.
She was a young piano player, and he was a singer who performed in many
a show with his deep baritone. It was
after one of his shows that she introduced herself to him, so impressed was she
with his performance. I seem to also
recall hearing of wild post-show parties at the Napoleon House, and dancing on
the tables.
While New Orleans can be a wild
city, awash with music and parties, she is also undoubtedly a Lady… a mother
and a creator. My mother took her role
as a New Orleans Lady to heart. She was
a masterful creator of food, family, and joie
de vivre. With the rekindling of her
Catholic faith, she sometimes worried about her imperfections. But no one among us is perfect, and imagine
how lifeless New Orleans
would be without its “imperfections”.
She was, however, so perfect in so many ways. She was loyal and faithful to a fault, and
worked through whatever difficulties life threw at her with grace and
strength. She had a stellar track record
as a mom -- going “4 and 0” with her kids -- raising a neurosurgeon, a dentist,
a scientist, and a teacher. Her example
has resulted in four wonderful families, and 10 grandchildren who will impact
the world in countless positive ways that cannot be underestimated. They are, rightfully so, her pride and
joy.
In her spare
time, Mom used a masterful green thumb to cultivate a menagerie of plants, the
likes of which could only thrive under her delicate care and in New Orleans ’ steamy
clime. She also thrived in the city’s
steamy clime. If she wasn’t in the
garden of her West Bank home, she was tearing
up the tennis court, or walking around the French Quarter enjoying some
festival or other. In recent years, just
downriver from the Quarter, she had become somewhat of a fixture herself. She was the Saturday “headliner” in the piano
bar of a little Faubourg Marigny establishment, Feelings Café D'Aunoy (my father often
providing vocals).
Before Hurricane
Katrina hit, my mother evacuated to safer ground, along with my father, Roland
Joseph Guerin, and a million other New Orleanians. In their case, they traveled up to Shreveport , to take
refuge in the loving home of my father’s brother Wilfred, and his wife Wilda
(for which I will be eternally grateful).
Although she was
never able to return (except of course in spirit), my mother’s imprint on New Orleans will be felt
for generations. In this small way, she
may even help this great city to live on.
It lives on in her children, her children’s children, and the traditions
and values that she has passed onto them. They will always remember their deep New Orleans roots,
imparted to them by Granny, Papá, and by the sheer scope of family history,
which has paralleled the city’s growth from its earliest times. New
Orleans will live on in the memories that her many
friends have shared with her there, adding to its magical aura and to their
impression of it. It will live on in the
thousands of people throughout the country, if not the world, who retain a
memory of that one steamy night, listening to the piano in a beautiful
courtyard in the Marigny.
In
the same way that my mother’s life has added to the anthology of New Orleans traditions
and memories, New Orleans
will perpetuate her spirit. When anyone
she ever knew sits in a misty garden and hears the rain pattering on leaves, or
soaks in the atmosphere of a small bistro, or once again enjoys café au lait
and beignets at Café du Monde, she will be there. No matter where they may end up or what they
may do, her children and grandchildren will always remember the New Orleans
Lady that was Granny. They will remember
the piano, the crazy Mardi Gras hats and glasses, the toy robots, the grillades,
and the turkey gumbo. They will remember
walks through Audubon Zoo, the swamp, and the Quarter. But mostly, they will remember the love, and
the love of life that, like her city, she has always embodied and imparted to
others.
Before Hurricane
Katrina hit, my mother had been fighting her own storm. Lung cancer had recurred some months earlier,
and had spread to her brain a few weeks before the evacuation. Shortly after arriving at the sanctuary of my
aunt and uncle’s home, her condition worsened, and she moved into a nearby
hospice for better care. My father,
family and friends were with her every day.
My brother and his family were there day in and day out, despite their
own incredible loss (their home was four houses from the levee breech in
Lakeview, and they were forced to relocate to Shreveport as well). In this hospice, appropriately named Grace Home
Carol Chatelain
Guerin died in Shreveport , Louisiana October 27th, 2005 .
Some say New Orleans died on August 29th, 2005 . But New
Orleans will live on, through her people and their
families. Perhaps in a different form,
sometimes even in a different place… but it will live on. Likewise, my mother will live on… through her
family, and through the city. She will
live on through memories made in this wonderful place, a place made more
wonderful by her presence.
I know that my
mother has gone to a better place. My
hope is that New Orleans
will end up in a better place as well, and I believe my mother’s life has added
to that goal. I know that she has
certainly made the world a better place.
