Six months after the storm, the damage to New Orleans is still widespread and devastating. The barge that pushed through a levee as the lower ninth ward flooded still lies on top of the house it crushed. Traffic lights don't work, even on major avenues. Entire neighborhoods go dark as the sun goes down, with no electricity, gas, water, or residents. Even after seeing hundreds of images and hours of coverage, the scope of the destruction is staggering. The fact that these images were made six months after the storm is both incredible and tragic, as many places in the city look as if they were just hit by the floodwaters and high winds.

Army Corps of Engineers contractors drive 72' steel beams into earthen levees, extended families pull rotting drywall from their flooded homes, immigrants from Texas and Peru lay new roofs, volunteers in Chalmette keep spirits high, and the Vietnamese community of New Orleans East plans for a very bright future. All over New Orleans there are signs of rebuilding as crews labor seven days per week. Some workers, like the Bonilla Brothers, I met only once. Others, like Mr. Huynh, I followed through the excitement and challenge of rebuilding in a city without a master plan. Their disparate stories weave a single strand of hope and promise for the comeback and transformation of one of America's most historic cities.

The original Crescent City survived the storm and flooding, leaving the French Quarter, the Marigny, and Uptown largely intact. From these historic neighborhoods and the recovering Garden District, Treme, Midtown, and Upper Ninth Ward, music, dance, and Mardi Gras have gained strength since the devastation of Katrina and the floods. Mardi Gras Indians, a unique and opaque New Orleans tradition, made their comeback during Mardi Gras, and the city's beloved Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club rolled on Fat Tuesday. Residents returned to historic intersections and favorite parades to savor the New Orleans they remember, love, and protect for future generation.