New Orleans – The noise, louder than the roar of a hurricane, shook the Superdome. Who dat? The Saints of this storm-battered city, with running back Deuce McAllister cradling the football and carrying the hopes of 70,001 spectators, beat Philadelphia 27-24 on Saturday night in an NFL playoff game. Folks screamed, not only for their team, but to drown their sorrow and chase away ghosts that haunt the building.
Oh, Lord. Is it asking too much for these Saints of unfulfilled dreams to win the Super Bowl?
“The Saints have been a tremendous inspiration to New Orleans, making us all feel like winners,” said the Rev. John Raphael Jr., who stood in the back of his New Hope Baptist Church on Aug. 29, 2005, and watched Hurricane Katrina viciously peel the skin from the roof of the Superdome. “Here’s what you have to understand. Normally, the Saints winning games would be enough to put a smile on the city’s face. But the smiles are short-lived, because this is a city in pain.”
The Saints have come marching in, giving FEMA trailer-dwellers a reason to believe, inspiring a Mercedes owner to paint his car black and gold and allowing one sports-crazed local waiter to show off a tattoo of the team logo inside his lower lip with pride.
“As much as this city has been through, we talked about leaving it all out on the field,” said McAllister, a son of the Gulf Coast who ran for 143 yards against the Eagles. “We were determined not to fail.”
But the happy story line of an underdog team and its feisty fans quickly takes uncomfortable twists if you take a few steps away from the party on Bourbon Street to rub shoulders with people who still feel like crying more than 16 months after the last raindrop of Katrina fell.
“Our community is in pain, it’s suffering, it’s frustrated,” said New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin, who feels the hopelessness smothering his constituents. “People are beat down.”
Seeking a way out
His name was George. He was not in the Superdome on Saturday to watch the Saints and Eagles. He committed suicide in 2005, leaping from the upper deck to the stadium’s concrete floor, not far from the end zone.
“I heard the blood-curdling screams and ran to the spot where he hit the pavement. He was bleeding from his mouth, his ears, the back of his head,” said Rhett Charles, a New Orleans policeman who reported to the Superdome on the eve of Katrina and stood watch as the stadium became the refuge of last resort for more than 25,000 desperate citizens frightened by the storm or trapped by the ensuing flood.
“I never got to shake the man’s hand. But we asked his name, and he said it was George. Despite the trauma, he was talking. I remember him saying the street where he lived. His language got profane. But he told us he could not take the pressure of that many people inside the dome and the devastation outside in the city. The thing I remember most? George kept saying he just wanted out.”
On desolate streets of the Lower 9th Ward, it’s striking how slow the city has been to rebuild, and how quickly America has forgotten the guilt of letting residents suffer like stray dogs when the levees broke.
After enduring a nomadic existence a year ago, the Saints moved back to the Superdome, refurbished by $185 million in repairs.
Born in 1966 and long a sad-sack franchise that managed only one playoff victory during its first 40 years, the Saints have never been better. But, according to Loyola University projections, 100,000 working- poor families will never make a comeback to New Orleans, a large chunk of the city’s soul lost forever.
“I’m an eternal pessimist, but we have not had the leadership this city needed. We’re still scrambling,” said 85-year-old Arthur Davis, proud architect of the Superdome, which opened in 1975. “There are a lot of people who cannot come home, because there are no homes for them to come back to.”
More than just a QB
While the 31 rushing touchdowns scored by San Diego Chargers running back LaDainian Tomlinson made him the best player in the NFL this season, no player has been more valuable to his team and his town than quarterback Drew Brees, who relocated to New Orleans in March, when he was a free agent.
The quarterback’s contribution far exceeded the 243 passing yards he provided the Saints against Philadelphia. He has given hope to strangers, and made them feel loved.
Speaking to local reporters last week, Brees said: “I get so many people coming up to me and so many of them, their comments are not, ‘Hey, great season.’ It’s more, ‘It’s so great you came to New Orleans. It means so much to us you’d choose our city. Thank you.”‘
Scars can’t be erased
They are Saints the entire country would like to wrap in the American flag, with stars replaced by 50 fleur-de-lis, the unmistakable trademark of the team and this region.
We want so much for the Saints to symbolize indefatigable spirit. But as amazing as being in the NFC title game is for this franchise, it does not repopulate a town diminished by half from the storm or erase the brown water stains on abandoned buildings or stop nine murders that drenched New Orleans in fear during the first dozen days of 2007.
The victims ranged from a young drug buyer to a 36-year-old filmmaker named Helen Hill, shot in the neck by an intruder to her home. “Defend NOLA not Iraq” was among the signs waved by 3,000 angry protesters who converged Thursday on City Hall, decrying the spike in violent crime.
“Grown men are running scared of this city’s children, who are carrying guns,” Raphael said. “What blows my mind is New Orleans has always had problems. But something has changed. This time, the idea of working together lasted only as long as it took for the floodwaters to dry up.”
Season-long rescue mission
Playing football is not enough for the Saints. They are on a rescue mission, trying to repair the broken psyche of their hometown. “We hope to be out front in a leadership role, and we’re not afraid of that,” New Orleans coach Sean Payton said.
A helicopter lifted Al Serpas off a roof barely above water after Katrina hit. As rowdy fans outside of the dome chanted “Who dat?” before kickoff, it made him smile.
“You can write this down,” Serpas said. “If the Saints went to the Super Bowl, this town would party for 10 years. Mardi Gras would be a drop in the bucket by comparison.”
Charles, the cop who stood watch over the terror in the dome during the hurricane, was on the field in his role as stadium security when Brees took a knee as the scoreboard clock ticked to zero in the fourth quarter.
Payton, the first-year coach, started the celebration by offering handshakes and hugs to hundreds of fans in the stands. “In the wake of Katrina, we all know how much recovery there is to go,” he said.
Barely 2 miles across town from the Superdome, in front of a house where the late Hill lived with her husband and a 2-year-old son before being murdered, friends built a memorial of candles, bouquets and hand-written notes.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
