It was a typical Saturday afternoon, and I was on my way to the French Quarter (this was two years before Katrina). I headed on the streetcar toward my job at the now defunct Tower Records.
How I loved riding the streetcar. A relic, the streetcar was one of the highlights of living in one of the most traditional cities in the South.
So there I was in the sweltering heat, waiting with confused tourists attempting to get off the streetcar. I was ready to feel that fresh breeze from the mighty Mississippi to wash over me like Read more