Lisa, Ian and I ventured into a mask shop while wandering the French Quarter in New Orleans. The masks ranged from simple,  pirates eye patches to elaborate , colorful concoctions loaded with feathers and glitter.

I asked the proprietor what was her favorite mask, and she pointed out a few and then said, “but my favorite of all isn’t a mask, but the head  piece I wore for my debut when I was 16.”

She described  her gown, the long gloves, her first 1″ heels and the elaborate blue bird head piece in great detail. In the 60’s , each young black woman had her own ball and received training in how to walk, sit and talk “properly” as she prepared for her special event.

She explained how close her family was and that even after she married, it was expected that she would go to her mother’s home to help cook dinner after she finished cooking dinner for her husband every evening.

The proprietor also told us that as she was growing up, a black, middle class young woman in New Orleans never went anywhere unescorted by a relative – even when she was in her 20’s.  As a result, she didn’t know how to get around the city nor learn to drive until much later.

Unfortunately, all the photos of  her ball was lost in the flooding of Katrina. As Lisa and I left the shop, we wondered if her story explained why so many people chose to remain during the hurricane and flooding.