Standing at the intersection of Bourbon and Canal Street is a newly erected memorial: 14 candles, 14 flowers, a large painted cross, and a list of names.
Kareem Badawi, Drew Dauphin, Nikyra Dedeaux are just a few of the names of those who lost their lives to Shamsud-Din Jabbar, a military veteran armed with a semiautomatic rifle, IEDs and a crumpled ISIS flag, who swerved around police barricades near the intersection early New Year’s Day, barrelling his truck down the iconic street.
“The families that lost their loved ones…they’ll feel good when the people gather together and pay their respects,” said Roberto Marquez, the 62-year-old who started the memorial. When he’d heard the attacker lived in Texas, the former construction worker quickly packed his bags, driving to New Orleans from Dallas to spread a message of unity.
Within hours of Marquez placing those candles on Jan. 2, images of the makeshift shrine spread rapidly across social media. By the following day, a growing sea of flowers, beads and teddy bears surrounded the candles, framed against a backdrop of supportive handwritten messages. A faint whiff of sage hung in the air. Hundreds had likely already come to kneel and pray.
“The community is responding,” said Marquez.
On Friday, he was painting an abstract mural of a woman’s face to symbolize the pain and desperation of tragedy. He wants to donate it to the victim’s families.
“This is not mine, this is the reverence I’m giving,” he said.
A few feet away, reporters jostle for camera angles, and a row of policemen sit stoically on horseback next to an adult entertainment store. Bouncers loiter outside nearby bars, draped with cardboard signs over their shoulders, advertising free cover.
On Thursday night, 36 hours after the attacks, roughly 57,000 fans headed downtown for the Sugar Bowl. The game had been postponed to Jan. 2, and officials estimate about 11,000 fewer fans attended than a normal year.
“A lot of workers called out because they didn’t feel comfortable being here,” said one security guard.
After a brief moment of silence, a mostly typical college football game ensued, with rabid fans drinking and cheering for their Fighting Irishmen or Bulldogs.
“It's about having a good time,” Gov. Jeff Landry said in an interview before the game. “These are the events that give us the opportunity to relax.”
As fans trickled out of the Superdome, many walked under surveillance drones and armored vehicles, some fist-bumping hordes of first responders before arriving at a recently reopened Bourbon Street.
“Everybody lives in a 15-second tik-tok video,” said Landry at a press conference. He was referring to shifting information released by law enforcement, but his statement parallels other aspects of the days following the attacks. By Friday afternoon, the French Quarter, including Bourbon Street, was once again packed.
Blaine Clark had seen the truck on New Year's Day. He’d heard the bullets whizzing by, and he’d witnessed the carnage.
“You walk around thinking oh that won't happen here,” he said. “Then it happened right in front of you and you see people dying. You count your blessings.”
Yet Clark, like many other fans who’d seen the attack, had chosen to go to the Sugar Bowl. The massive law enforcement presence, including local, state, Homeland Security, and FBI agents, made him feel safe, he said.
“ISIS is not gonna stop us from being Americans. Football is America. America is football.” he said. “They're not gonna tell us we can't do what we want to do and love.”
The show of force might preview what’s slated for the Super Bowl, which New Orleans will host on Feb. 9. A large team of federal Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agents is set to be present at the game, and they also plan to stay for Mardis Gras Day on March 4. Mayor Latoya Cantrell has also requested the White House for a tactical expert to map vulnerable areas in the city, and increased federal support during Carnival season, which kicks off Monday with the Krewe of Joan of Arc.
“Safety continues to be our top priority,” said Cantrell at a Jan. 2 press conference. “We are ready to continue to host large-scale events in our city because we are built to host at every single turn.”
Yet for those with closer ties to the scarred pavement, a sudden influx of police strength doesn’t exactly erase deeper wounds.
“I don’t think most of us have processed it yet,” said V., a bartender whose bar was 100 feet from where the truck crashed into construction equipment. She’s worked just off Bourbon Street for the past 12 years and pushed off returning until Friday. The second she came back, tears streamed down her face.
“I went to get coffee and I almost couldn't do it because it's right where the truck ended. It's back to business. There’s no bodies, there's no blood. There's nothing. And yet I almost wasn’t able to.”
A group of other bartenders crowded in to order food. The full list of the deceased hadn’t been released yet, and they were worried about a colleague who hadn’t been seen since New Year’s Eve.
“All of us know everybody walking up and down Bourbon,” she said. “Every time I see someone I haven't seen since Monday I have to hug them and start crying…I can't help it.”
V. knows others struggling to return, forcing smiles and friendly greetings in places where they experienced profound trauma; but in a city where tourism contributes nearly 40% to the city’s operating budget and employs approximately 12% of residents in the area, returning to work isn’t necessarily a choice.
“The only reason I opened is because people still need to pay their bills,” she said. “We have to.”
“When you wake up in the morning you're going to do what you did yesterday,” said Paul Athul, a street artist posted in Jackson Square. “Some people can afford to grieve, some people can’t.”
Yet for others working in the Quarter, returning isn't just about paying bills—it's an act of defiance– a refusal to cower in the face of tragedy.
“It's not too early,” said Doreen Ketchens. “The loss that was created from pure evil…it stops me in my tracks. But moving on is something we’re supposed to do.”
She had just finished a soulful rendition of “House of the Rising Sun,” her smile beamed amid a burst of applause from encircling tourists.
“It's like being in elementary school and the bully tells you not to come to school the next day,” she added. “By us being out here right now. It's helping a lot of other people.”
Father Pat Williams stood at the rear of St. Louis Cathedral after Friday's midday Mass, offering blessings and warm greetings to visiting Catholics from across the globe.
"One of our primary responses is to pray," he said, addressing the church's role in the predominantly Catholic city. "Then our focus turns to healing."
Williams said the Cathedral will hold an interfaith prayer service on Monday evening for the city.
“We’re trying to reassure people by our presence that our faith is strong,” he said. “We’re not going to let what really is evil overcome us.”
While thoughts and prayers might seem trite to some, they’re only the first collective response from a city well-versed in facing adversity.
On Saturday night, hundreds of residents and visitors gathered around the memorial before joining a second line down Bourbon Street. The memorial continues to grow. Several tall crosses have been erected with more offerings left behind and photos of the lives lost lit by dozens of candles.
A few of the victims’ families attended the vigil, weeping in each other's arms while a brass band played in the background. A woman adorned with feathers and sunglasses, holding an umbrella, swayed solemnly to the second line. Her dance gradually spread to a group of locals who had gathered to show support.
“This is the most overwhelming response of love, an outpouring of love. I’m floating through it all,” Cathy Tenedorio told the Associated Press. She had lost her 25-year-old son Matthew, an audio technician for Caesar's Superdome.
All 14 victims were identified by Sunday. Eight people remain in intensive care. President Joe Biden is set to meet with the Mayor and Governor Jeff Landry in New Orleans on Monday.
