Malcolm went to the office early this morning - 6 a.m. - to pick up papers he needed for a 9 a.m. meeting in Baton Rouge, and he saw a dead man who'd been stabbed in the driveway of the parking lot of our building. Not yet covered. When M came out of the building, he saw the bloodstain on the street. Nothing on the news tonight, but they don't report all of the murders and shootings that happen almost daily in the city.

The census released today shows that only 186,000 people are back and living in New Orleans, although the mayor's convinced that the number's off and that there are really 250,000, which would be half of the population before Katrina.

Today's the deadline to either gut your home and cut the grass, or have it torn down, so orange warnings are being stapled to people's front doors. My stepson's been waiting for two days to meet the demo guys at his Lakeview home so he can watch them knock down the first home he ever bought and crush and haul away the wedding gifts, the jazz fest posters, the baby shower gifts, the bright yellow walls he painted in Lucy's nursery.


A priest blessed kids' pets and stuffed animals today.

Two women were killed just a few hours ago in a car accident in Mandeville when a ladder fell off the back of a St. Bernard fireman's truck on Interstate 12. The man was salt of the earth, always so careful. A third woman is in critical condition. His truck was loaded with equipment to rebuild homes.