Travel: New Orleans Needs You

I felt my chest tighten as we approached our landing in New Orleans. Would it feel sad, like going back to your old house after a parent has died? Immediately, we chose to deal with lumps in our throats in a time-honored New Orleans way, flipping the radio to jazz, WWOZ, 90.7, and heading directly to Harbor Seafood ( 504-443-6454 ), not five minutes from the airport. Pulling into the parking lot at 11 a.m., you can already smell the spicy shellfish boil. Soon, an adorable server sets down a platter of bright red crawfish, saying: "Here you go, hon. Party on!" Catching her spirit, we begin the quest for the perfect po' boy, a hollowed-out loaf stuffed with fried oysters, shrimp or catfish that you order "dressed" with the works.

Coming to New Orleans six months after Katrina, all your senses are alert. You do not miss one roof slung with a blue FEMA tarp, or the fresh plywood slapped on house fronts like Band-Aids, or signs promising we'll be open soon. Is it OK to try to have fun in this place? Shouldn't I be clearing rubble or swinging a hammer? I asked that question of lots of locals, and the answer was unanimous: just being here matters. "We need y'all to come down and see that we're worth saving," said a bartender.

As it has forever been in New Orleans, having fun is not hard to do. The music is back, in the streets and clubs like Snug Harbor ( 504-949-0696 ) and Cafe Brasil ( 504-949-0851 ).

Classics--Galatoire's, Antoine's and Acme Oyster House in the Quarter--are back. Others--Brennan's, Commander's Palace--promise to reopen by Jazz Fest, April 28 to 30 and May 5 to 7 ( nojazzfest.com ), where Fats Domino, rescued from the roof of his bright yellow Lower Ninth Ward house, promises to perform.

Restaurants resonate warmth, from the funky Mother's ( 504-523-9656 ), where slabs of country ham weigh down flaky biscuits, to the Cafe du Monde in the French Market (sure, it's touristy, but where else can you find a perfect beignet?). Everyone you meet has a story they need to tell--of loss and survival--heartfelt and personal. It's our job to listen.

Most hotels are up and running. The beautiful Windsor Court ( www.windsorcourthotel ) donates rooms to Habitat for Humanity volunteers, and offers special Samaritan Sojourn packages to encourage tourists. For post-Katrina status of hotels, and other vitals, check out neworleansonline.com .

What I heard most before this trip was the prevailing wail: with the city rebuilt around it, the French Quarter will become a Disneyland. After hours walking the Quarter, researching po' boys and gumbo (Fiorella's, across from the French Market, rocks), one thing became clear. Bourbon Street, the honkyiest-tonk street in the Quarter, was always Disneyland in its commercial heart. (It's forever surprising that Galatoire's, one of America's best eating rooms, has been on this very street for 100 years.) The rest of that 200-year-old place is a vital residential neighborhood, where real folks lovingly hold together their characterful Creole cottages, their 19th-century cast-iron porches, and get on with the living.

New Orleans now is so --much more than the Quarter. Used to be there was no life west of Canal Street. Now the Warehouse District is alive with shops and restaurants like Emeril Lagasse's big, friendly Emeril's ( emerils.com ) and the startlingly good Restaurant August ( rest-august.com ), stylishly tucked into an old tobacco warehouse, where Louisiana native chef John Besh treats local ingredients--rabbit, crab, blackfish--with great finesse. Farther out on Magazine Street, beyond the undamaged Garden District, is the vibrant Uptown neighborhood, already back and jumping.

Farther west still is the remarkable, partially reopened Audubon Zoo ( www.auduboninstitute.org ), where curator Dan Maloney and his staff, working from a fine disaster plan, spent two months living in the reptile house and managed to save all but three of their 1,500 animals. To help their recovery effort, adopt animals online, like a laughing kookaburra ($25) or a white rhino ($100). Near the zoo, in the superfunky DomiLise's ( 504-899-9126 ), we discover the po' boy to write home about.

Before Katrina, when you came to New Orleans, and unless you had friends or family here, you'd have no reason to visit such neighborhoods as the Lower Ninth Ward or Lakeview. Now you can't get them out of your mind. The reality turns out to be far worse than photographs, because six months later, the damage is still raw. How can they rebuild here? How can they not?

Political talk is everywhere, bursting out with good humor on T shirts: make levees not war and FEMA: fix everything my ass. You feel motivated to buy anything that supports the city. But aside from unlocking billions in aid, and straightening out their politicians, what New Orleans really needs now is YOU.