At the peak of my nomadic life, I was just going about my way, honoring my journey, living in constant motion, adventure and discovery when my destiny brought me to New Orleans.
As an outsider, I was welcomed with open arms. However as I found out, old folklore speaks of legacy generations past that must give approval if you’re allowed to stay. Be it the mysteries of the city, or the magic of it. Everyone was just enjoying and engaging in the more fruitful acts of life.
Shifting timelines and cities, I had recently moved to Lower Manhattan, living as a dual resident of NOLA and New York. But out of nowhere, on Sept. 11, 2001, the World Trade Center came crashing down and for the first time in this generation, we gasped after witnessing real mass casualty and destruction. Back then, I stood one block away at the time of the collapse, later walking in ash and debris that day. I continued to live near Ground Zero for a time, around the remains of the unimaginable.
Despite my experiences living through 9/11, nothing could have prepared me for what was to come and for the wrath of destruction brought by Hurricane Katrina four years later. In New Orleans, there was always talk of this great flood that was to come and that the city has been overdue for many years. Intuition kept haunting me, creeping in my mind that perhaps my time living in New Orleans should come to a close. So exactly 90 days before Katrina hit, I moved full time back to New York.
But when reports came in that the levies broke, we all saw the horrors unraveling and that major parts of the city were underwater. As someone that had just moved away from the city, I felt more than helpless. Feeling that I had abandoned a beloved family member in their time of need. I don’t recall grief so intense in my hours of walking through ashes on 9/11 in New York, even being comparable to the grief of watching my neighbors, friends and community that I knew slowly sink into despair.
Most painful of all was seeing what New Orleanians thought was safe shelter, only to find deplorable conditions while seeking safe ground at the Superdome. The feeling of seeing that felt like a direct link and just a taste of what it must have been like to endure being in the belly of a slave ship.
I lost beloved friends and neighbors. We lost wonderful people. Grandfathers, mothers, daughters and sons. Many that gave so much. Some drowned, some fell victim to violence and some from the illnesses brought on, over time. I lost contact or never got to see some friends again due to the displacement. So many that we never got to say goodbye to. The loss of treasured collectables and keepsakes that families had passed on, in respect and in honor of their family’s close reliance on togetherness. Gone in an instant.
I had developed some pre-existing health conditions over time and just started the process of addressing them. The first procedure was done a few days before Katrina and as the events started to unfold, it was impossible to physically travel, be active or go back there with aid or to help at that time due to my condition then. But there was work to do and work we did!
People began to reach out to me to find ways to help. To send money, to get clothing, personal care items, food and water, children’s needs. I assisted people in navigating where they could go to get these things for people in their hour of need. Quickly scrambling to support people with whatever they needed. To my amazement, I came to discover that so many around the world also felt a calling to help by sending aid, offering donations, providing housing or just by showing up. I was so thankful and proud of people during that time. People giving with their hearts to anybody that needed a hand.
Through these tough times, I have come to learn however, that despite what can come with the dangerous hiss of darkness, the light can also thrive, be revived and prevail. I have come to learn great things that can also come out of atrocity. For what comes from grief, can also inspire action. And from action comes the will to make something better. That pure will and generosity can apply to self or extend to others. The simple unifying quality of human effort inspiring a natural ability of just being present speaks volumes.
That is why after the dark, comes the light, which has the ability to shift society in the oddest and most mysterious ways. Simply put, I suppose the quest was to bring us all right back to center, to bring us all right back together.
I rarely, if ever have spoken publicly in depth about these personal experiences. But today as I understand what may be the overall plot of it all, or as to why things happen as they do…. I am still thankful.
N’Dea Davenport is a 21st century digital nomad, world renowned Grammy and BRIT Award nominated vocalist and songwriter, stage presentation curator, and former lead singer of The Brand New Heavies. She is also a DJ/vinyl supporter, part-time drummer, design and architecture enthusiast.