James Gill again takes soon to be former Judge Tom Porteous to the woodshed.

Folks once again James Gill shows why he is one of the best opinion columnist in the south. Here is a snippet from today’s piece on the continuing Porteous saga:

With a convicted felon on one hand, and Jefferson Parish judges on the other, there’s no way of figuring out who is telling the truth.

Truer words have never been spoken. Redflex will take more of ’em out IMHO.

Gill expertly points out how Tom Porteous’ brand of spread the wealth will not help him in the Senate.  I continue to hear his family continues to be mortified at the spectacle that is Tom as he remains a defiant piggy.

Pigs get slaughtered.

sop

Mississippi’s otherwise “invisible coast”

In that short flight over the Mississippi Gulf Coast, I couldn’t believe what lay before my eyes.

What his eyes saw, however, Sun Herald photographer James Edward Bates captured with his camera.  Bates tells his story in today’s Sun Herald and links to a gallery of 150 his photographs – “Most have not been published before this week”.

The Sun Herald remembers Katrina plus 5: Mississippi

As Aug. 29 recedes into the conscious time of many Americans, the great storm that devastated 70 miles of Mississippi’s Coast, destroying the homes and lives of hundreds of thousands, fades into a black hole of media obscurity.

Never mind that, if taken alone, the destruction in Mississippi would represent the single greatest natural disaster in 229 years of American history. The telling of Katrina by national media has created the illusion of the hurricane’s impact on our Coast as something of a footnote.

The awful tragedy that befell New Orleans as a consequence of levee failures at the time of Katrina, likewise, taken by itself, also represents a monumental natural disaster. But, of course, the devastation there, and here, were not separate events, but one, wrought by the Aug. 29 storm.

There is no question that the New Orleans story, like ours, is a compelling, ongoing saga as its brave people seek to reclaim those parts of the city lost to the floods.

But it becomes more and more obvious that to national media, New Orleans is THE story – to the extent that if the Mississippi Coast is mentioned at all it is often in an add-on paragraph that mentions “and the Gulf Coast” or “and Mississippi and Alabama.”

The television trucks and satellite dishes that were seen here in the early days have all but disappeared.

While there has been no study to quantify the amount of coverage accorded to the plight of so many here or in New Orleans, it is obvious to any observer that the number of news stories on New Orleans is many times that of those focused on Mississippi.

So, why does that matter?

It matters first as it relates to journalism’s obligations to cover human beings whose conditions are as dire as those that exist here.

The depth of the suffering and the height of the courage of South Mississippians is an incredible story that the American people must know. But, in the shadows of the New Orleans story, the Mississippi Coast has become invisible and forgotten to most Americans. Read more…

Slabbed remembers Katrina Plus 5: Determination Billows Along Mississippi Road. By Ben Montgomery of the Tampa

Wednesday, September 7, 2005

KILN, Miss. – Along Highway 603, Bruno’s Bar, with the spray-painted rebel flag on the concrete-block wall out front, is closed. So is the Cajun Connection, the Broke Spoke and just about every other dive on this stretch of sleepy Mississippi country road touched and tangled by Hurricane Katrina.

Even the catfish are belly-up in the farm ponds.

But rising above cattle fields and swampland and this ruined, rugged little town is Roddie Bilbo’s bedsheet tribute to the spirit of the people of Kiln. The effortless homage hangs from power lines, stretched taught with two bottles of spring water, for all of Highway 603 to see.

They do. Folks honk or whistle when they pass, a half-dozen of them by the hour. There goes a family in a Chevrolet Suburban stopping to take a picture. There’s a “woo-hoo!” from a pickup window.

“See, that’s what it does to people,” says Bilbo, eating jambalaya and green beans in his driveway a few nights ago. “It’s been like that since I put it up.” Continue reading “Slabbed remembers Katrina Plus 5: Determination Billows Along Mississippi Road. By Ben Montgomery of the Tampa”