[StBernard] Chris Rose thank you

[Westley Annis]

Letter to America

>

>

>   Did ya'll read this letter by Chris Rose in the paper?  Sure to make you

>  >> smile.

>  >>

>  >>

>  >>  Dear America,

>  >>

>  >> I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana.

>  >>

>  >> We have arrived on your doorstep on short notice and we apologize for

>  >> that, but we never were much for waiting around for invitations. We're

>  >> not much on formalities like that.

>  >>

>  >> And we might be staying around your town for a while, enrolling in

>  >> your schools and looking for jobs, so we wanted to tell you a few

>  >> things about us. We know you didn't ask for this and neither did we,

>  >> so we're just going to have to make the best of it.

>  >>

>  >> First of all, we thank you. For your money, your water, your food,

>  >> your prayers, your boats and buses and the men and women of your

>  >> National Guards, fire departments, hospitals and everyone else who has

>  >> come to our rescue.

>  >>

>  >> We're a fiercely proud and independent people, and we don't cotton

>  >> much to outside interference, but we're not ashamed to accept help

>  >> when we need it. And right now, we need it.

>  >>

>  >> Just don't get carried away. For instance, once we get around to

>  >> fishing again, don't try to tell us what kind of lures work best in

>  >> your waters.

>  >>

>  >> We're not going to listen. We're stubborn that way.

>  >>

>  >> You probably already know that we talk funny and listen to strange

>  >> music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of

>  >> your yard.

>  >>

>  >> We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too

>  >> much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly, we're

>  >> suspicious of others who don't.

>  >>

>  >> But we'll try not to judge you while we're in your town.

>  >>

>  >> Everybody loves their home, we know that. But we love South Louisiana

>  >> with a ferocity that borders on the pathological. Sometimes we bury

>  >> our dead in LSU sweatshirts.

>  >>

>  >> Often we don't make sense. You may wonder why, for instance - if we

>  >> could only carry one small bag of belongings with us on our journey to

>  >> your state - why in God's name did we bring a pair of shrimp boots?

>  >>

>  >> We can't really explain that. It is what it is.

>  >>

>  >> You've probably heard that many of us stayed behind. As bad as it is,

>  >> many of us cannot fathom a life outside of our border, out in that

>  >> place we call Elsewhere.

>  >>

>  >> The only way you could understand that is if you have been there, and

>  >> so many of you have. So you realize that when you strip away all the

>  >> craziness and bars and parades and music and architecture and all that

>  >> hooey, really, the best thing about where we come from is us.

>  >>

>  >> We are what made this place a national treasure. We're good people.

>  >> And don't be afraid to ask us how to pronounce our names. It happens

>  >> all the time.

>  >>

>  >> When you meet us now and you look into our eyes, you will see the

>  >> saddest story ever told. Our hearts are broken into a thousand pieces.

>  >>

>  >> But don't pity us. We're gonna make it. We're resilient. After all,

>  >> we've been rooting for the Saints for 35 years. That's got to count

>  >> for something.

>  >>

>  >> OK, maybe something else you should know is that we make jokes at

>  >> inappropriate times.

>  >>

>  >> But what the hell.

>  >>

>  >> And one more thing: In our part of the country, we're used to having

>  >> visitors. It's our way of life.

>  >>

>  >> So when all this is over and we move back home, we will repay to you

>  >> the hospitality and generosity of spirit you offer to us in this

>  >> season of our despair.

>  >>

>  >> That is our promise. That is our faith.

>  >>

>  >> Chris Rose for The Times-Picayune Chris Rose can be reached at

>  >> noroses at bellsouth.net.