MySpace users reprint their Katrina related journals

Many users of the insanely popular online social networking site MySpace.com have recently, in recognition of the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, posted reprints of their evacuation from and return to New Orleans journals. A couple of the better ones that mention spots on Lower Decatur Street area are listed below.

The one who calls himself M. Bevis writes this tale.

As we made the approach to Coop’s, we noticed that Molly’s at the Market was open. This was a popular bar amongst the hip underground set, so it made us feel a little at ease to see that they were at work. We spoke with Jim Monaghan Jr., the owner of Mollys; he told us that Coop’s was talking about preparing the food, but with the water being out, it was not looking good. He told us there were cigarettes and beer for sale in his bar and that we were welcome as long as Molly’s was open. One of Jim’s friends made a joke after I thanked him for his generosity and sanity that that might be the first time anyone has said anything like that to him. I don’t care. Either way, I meant it then, even more so now.

The user called “the insatiable Ms. Juli!” posted this one with the permission of her friend.

It’s hotter than Pavaratti in a corduroy suit at an all you can eat buffet. The Abita Restoration Ale seems to help, either because it’s cold, or because it’s making me not care anymore. Business at Coop’s Place on lower Decatur Street seems much the way it did in July of 2004, when I suffered through a sweltering summer in that kitchen. Locals fill the bar stools checking out the Saturday night special menu. The plates and bottles thump down on the bar, the juke box pounds out my latest DJ attempt a bipolar mix of Charile Parker, Twisted Sister, Dave Brubeck, and Journey. Over the accumulated din of jukebox, conversation, video poker, shouted drink orders, pool table arguments, and overloaded air conditioner, my friend Joey manages to shout “Let’s step outside!” We stumble out into the moist, musky embrace of Saturday night in the French Quarter. It almost feels like nothing has changed, but we all know better than that