Katrina? Who dat? Big Easy is back

NEW ORLEANS - As Mardi Gras day - next Tuesday - draws closer, the parties and nightly parades tend to get bigger, louder and more elaborate. But it will be hard to top Tuesday night's celebration of the Saints' first Super Bowl win.

With August marking five years since Hurricane Katrina, this city - and its people - seem determined to show that they're back and ready to make this carnival season the biggest in years.

The Saints were welcomed home Tuesday with the enthusiasm usually reserved for victorious soldiers returning from long-fought wars.

"Everybody's coming together and hugging and kissing," said Lois Seibert, 74, as she stood in front of the Superdome, marveling at the size of the crowd and the carnival-like atmosphere. "Other Super Bowl winners thought they had a parade, but they've never seen something like this."

Some called it "Lombardi Gras," referring to the Lombardi Trophy, awarded each year to the Super Bowl winner. Businesses were "encouraged" to release their workers by 2 p.m. Some schools had a half day. Tens of thousands packed the streets, filling every vantage point, pressing between cars on every level of a four-story parking garage. Black-and-gold-shirts, jackets, feather boas, body paint-was everywhere.

Signs reading, "Bless you, Boys!" and "Only yo' mama loves you more than we do!" waved in the air. A man with a bullhorn shouted: "Who Dats, let's make some noise! They can't hear us in Indianapolis!"

This also was not the conventional victory parade with players in cars waving to the crowds for a few blocks.

The Saints rode on 12 floats pulled from different Carnival parades, each one blasting rock music. The route wound from the Superdome, through the business district, along stately St. Charles Avenue and into more residential neighborhoods. The floats were interspersed with marching bands and dance teams, as well as ordinary citizens who couldn't contain their exuberance and strutted down the route.

The players threw beads and mini-footballs, creating frenzies as people tried to snatch the plastic touched by their particular hero. One woman watched quarterback Drew Brees toss some beads and then buried her face in her friend's shoulder.

"He's throwing them like a football," she said, a catch in her voice.

Other players on the float grabbed Brees and pointed to a sign another woman was holding: "Baylen Brees [Drew's son], will you marry me?" A tousled blond-haired 2-year-old was on her father's shoulders underneath the sign. Her family had quickly pulled off the girl's stocking cap as Brees' float approached to show her off.

"When we saw [Baylen] at the Super Bowl, we said, 'He is so cute.' She's adorable, too. Why couldn't they get married?" one friend asked.

Brees read the sign and smiled, laughed and immediately threw the family some beads.

"There are no words to describe this," said Jerry Godfrey, 34, father of the future Mrs. Baylen Brees. "For the first time, there are no boundaries. Everyone's united."

The players seemed as excited as their fans - accessible, real, part of the family.

Coach Sean Payton, waving the trophy, blew kisses. Kicker Garrett Hartley-riding, appropriately, in a giant shoe from the all-women's parade "Muses" - jumped off his float at various points and was swarmed by fans who hugged and high-fived him. Tight end Jeremy Shockey laughed and pretended to be modest as fans chanted his name.

Amy Amerson, 35, had a "Shockey, show your tats!" sign, a play on another, cruder phrase often associated with Mardi Gras.

She moved back to Louisiana after five years living in New York City. There, she said, the only time she saw her hometown on the national news was "to show how many shootings they had."

"This shines a positive light on the city," Amerson said. "New Orleans is positive. We celebrate everything. We were having this parade win or lose."

New Orleans really couldn't lose: Peyton Manning, of the vanquished Indianapolis Colts, is beloved here, as son of Saints great Archie Manning. Lois Seibert, a great-grandmother, has statues of both of them, as well as that of Peyton's brother, Eli, who plays for the New York Giants, in her living room.

Still, she covered Peyton's with a paper bag before and during the big game.

"The next day I took it off," she said. "Poor darling . . . "

For some New Orleanians, whose lives since August 2005 have been divided into "Before Katrina" and "After Katrina," the Saints' win can mean a new measure of time: "Before we won the Super Bowl" and "After we won the Super Bowl."

"I hope that's what happens," said George Carraby, who'd come from Houston, where he's lived since being forced out by Katrina. "This is a new beginning. We can start looking ahead now."

Brian Mills, 54, of Norfolk, Va., decided to fly in after the Saints won the NFL championship. A native New Orleanian, he arrived the day before the Super Bowl and had been celebrating non-stop ever since.

"I've been doing 'Who dat' for the last 10 years," she said. "Finally, after this year, people know what I'm talking about."

Mills' mother's home was destroyed in Katrina. Talking about returning to the city a few months after the storm sobered him briefly as he recalled seeing "mile after mile of everything I'd ever known destroyed."

And while no sports victory, however amazing, can rebuild a home or replace lost treasures, this one mattered, Mills said.

"Look at all this," he said. "Everybody's so happy. Everybody's a 'Who Dat.' "