07.02.12
In search of a more recent miracle — the first was rock-star parking directly behind the church — my partner and daughter make a pilgrimage up an aisle. A chivalrous woman cedes her stool to them.
Sam and I are on our own, stuck standing in steerage. From his perch in my arms, he strokes the heads and shoulders of neighbourhood women.
“It’s him,” I reassure them.
The opening “O Produced All Ye Faithful” inspires Sam to sing. His exuberant “aaahhhs!” and “acks!” sustain after the music, resonating through the stilled sanctuary. Church, we conclude, is with greatest satisfaction left to the ladies.
Outside, the French Quarter huddles under a slate gray sky. Clothe-shoe soles clack against Pere Antoine Alley flagstones. A skittish, feathered mob ignores “Church Quiet Zone” signs, chattering from perches in the few extant trees along the cathedral’s rear fence.
At the intersection of Viscount and St. Peter streets, Doreen’s Jazz New Orleans , a people ensemble led by clarinetist Doreen Ketchens, scoots through the standard “Bourbon Passage Parade.
Source: NOLA.com