Stories

February 13, 2010 - Des Moines Register Under normal circumstances, I'm not much of a sports fan. But like nearly everyone in my adopted hometown of New Orleans, it seems I have lost my senses in the euphoric frenzy of the Saints' improbable journey to the...

The new 2010 census is coming up.  For those who don’t know this is the decennial process by which the U.S. government determines (1) how many people live in the U.S., and (2) how to properly apportion Congressional representatives to across the country.  The census...

[caption id="attachment_211" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Homeless persons waiting for refuge from the freezing cold"][/caption] I’m tired. We’re all tired. As a cold jet stream continues to dip into the Deep South for over a week now, New Orleans homeless providers have been operating under our freeze plan....

It was 7:30 p.m. Saturday night.  The outreach team needed extra help due to the hard freeze so good friend Katy and I volunteered to help out.  As we pulled out of the UNITY Welcome Home outreach team’s parking lot, I thought, “Surely no one...

I don’t understand this at all!! Why isn’t someone doing something to help???? Can you ask the Arc to help you? What can we as citizens do about this? I used to work with special needs kids and this is totally unacceptable to me. Above is...

[caption id="attachment_185" align="alignleft" width="419" caption="Mike Miller conducting intake with a client"][/caption] There are retarded people on the streets of New Orleans.  No, I’m not talking about the guy who cuts you off in traffic or the disruptive lady in the grocery line yapping away on her...

New York Times Editorial Published: December 11, 2009 The real estate industry and some Louisiana politicians have been promoting the fiction that New Orleans has all the housing it needs and should be allowed to divert hundreds of millions of dollars in federal aid from desperately...

“Uh, we’ve got a situation.”  These were Mike’s words just before noon as we were checking out an old factory building along the river.   We had been there before, knew the building, and – in an atypical move – allowed ourselves to get separated. I got...