Читать книгу Mardi Gras Madness - Ken Mask - Страница 3

DIARY ENTRY

When a thing is simple, it is surely true. True like an orange-red sunset on a calm lake horizon. True like crescent moonlight shining through sparse racing clouds, honest. New Orleans is always true in simple terms. This is my city, and I don’t like sharin’ it with the faint of soul.

There is little relief from that blade which slices seasons into pieces of pie like blended moments of day, time, occurrence, and place. The Louisiana sun is knife like piercing, year-round. Interrupted by the occasional rain, which may last for 15 to 30 minutes, there is some relief, but that eye of heaven beams through with dominance-on-off-rain-sun-rain-sun. The combination produces a sauna. Currents of the mighty river turn in every wake as if there is no direction for tides; when moon or sun hits the muddy waters a light brownish-grey hue robs surrounding landscapes of justification. These currents have roared for billions of years. Sounds, smells bounce off the meandering slopes of water like echoes in deep caverns, there is no visible life in those channels-only moving stillness deep, desperate.

This land is your land this land is my land, star spangled land of multicolor flavors, dreams and hopes dance in the shadows of laughs, cries of long ago of fog and low lying waterways which coat the space like glaciers of flat chocolate milk unforgivingly hard yet giving in the most immediate and primordial manner.

The centuries old place on the curve of the Mississippi conjures up sounds of long ago-pirate yells, gun fire, banjos, fiddles, drums, smells-spiced garlic crawfish, mint laced roasted pork, sights-tingling spiny dull-green Spanish moss dangling from oaks along bayous, Storyville, multicolor Mardi Gras floats, painted faces, plenty of molasses-sweet beverages and good times flowing all hours day, night. Constant. The pulse and the beat of the streets, the texture of the narrow passages can send you into a tailspin even if you’re careful. ‘Yeah your right’-day or night the place es caliente.

Let’s talk about a few things that went on leading up to one Mardi Gras. Let’s figure out if the heat of the place and the energy of that heat could have possibly reached not only to nearby locales but to far-off lands. Yeah, talk about friends, family, and strangers; talk about local problems and foreign intrigue.

Four years ago:

The Times Picayune

Matos Found Guilty

New Orleans- Today prominent New Orleans Lawyer Jake Matos of the firm Matos & Matos was convicted of killing a police officer in Venice, Louisiana. The year-long trial ended after the jury took only three days to come to a decision. Matos’ sentencing hearing begins in two weeks.

Counselors on both sides failed to comment. In one of the most controversial jurisprudence cases in recent Louisiana history, tensions ran deep: law enforcement versus lawyer, white versus black, establishment versus elite New Orleans inner city connected politics. The trail had been transferred to Orleans Parish after a long battle to keep it in Plaquemines Parish. The events of the day in question remained vague throughout the trial, the only witness being a fellow officer who made the stop along with the victim. The defense had promised another eye witness; however, they were unable to provide one.

The account is that Jake Matos was traveling back home to New Orleans when during a routine traffic stop in October of last year, on highway 23, an argument began and an altercation erupted. The encounter resulted in gunfire, with the exchange leading to the fatal injury of Officer Jed Phillips, a 25-year veteran of the force. Matos was treated for injuries and released after minor surgery.

Jury selection proved difficult and subsequent proceedings tense. Today’s long awaited verdict relieved stress among local supporters of the lawyer and state wide opposing law enforcement groups.

Mixed emotions were expected to lead to violence following the outcome.