I stop here because I don't even think I can begin to explain the happenings of my day. The great brass drummer 'Uncle' Lionel Batiste passed away this week, and ending the week long celebration of this incredible musician's life the Treme's second line went on parade starting in North Treme and ending on St. Claude at Sweet Lorraine's. Sweet Lorraine's is less than a hundred yards from our house so I rush us out with the first trumpet sound I heard and step onto the street to see hundreds of people lining the streets and gathering about a block down a St. Claude and St. Bernard. The parade began and with that came the music, the white clothes the lady's in their Sunday hats, the umbrellas, the dancing, the occasional tears.
The joy of this life, this incredible loss to New Orleans soul, it was indescribable. Two bands slowly made their way down St. Claude, one U-turning to end at Sweet Lorraine's, and one going rouge and traveling down Touro rounding out onto Frenchman Street from Royal. This was the path we chose along with a train of locals, gawking tourists, bee-bopping happiness hop stepping its way around Marigny. On our way home we ended up walking back by Lorraine's and stopping for a while finalizing our excursion with a couple Coronas and a most excellent char grilled sausage. 
A couple moves with my man the 'Dancing Man', roof top solo's, and musicians I now recognize, it was a good night. It all ended with us finding out we have an incredible view from our front sidewalk of the river fireworks celebrating the eve of Bastille Day. I close the door immersed in the air of New Orleans's unwillingness to allow its heritage, history, scars, and glory to fade into line with the rest of the country.
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