Dave Khey | Professional Web.Space

Crime and Justice in New Orleans January 12, 2010

A new research venture now surfacing on my desk actually has been in the works for almost five years.  It all started with a road trip for grad school.  Months before Hurricane Katrina leveled many parts of the Gulf Coast, I ventured over to New Orleans for the first time to attend the American Academy of Forensic Sciences annual meeting.  I drove nine hours from Gainesville and stayed at a hotel on Canal Street close to I-10 and was set to lecture about the “CSI effect,” practicing the presentation while heading west on the highway.  I have to say it was the most productive and exhilarating trip I ever experienced in graduate school.

While walking on the city streets, I kept my guard up and eyes open.  New Orleans’ reputation as a violent and crime-ridden city was part of my fascination – as a criminologist I wanted to see with my own eyes the stuff we write about in our academic journals.  My naivety about this city soon became apparent as did the tragic circumstances of such a gem of culture and historic wonderment.  As many of my transplanted (all Floridian) friends would show me through the years since that first stay, the city is vibrant with a vast array of friendly people, many with a deep sense of pride and knowledge of the city from the days of old to present.  The sentiment seemed contagious; each of my friends gained a copious amount of “local flavor” to a point they could serve as impressive tour guides.

First it was my friend Mike that began to tell the elaborate stories of the city, show me around, and immerse me in culture.  A Tulane medical school student at the time, Mike saw the dark underbelly of New Orleans first hand particularly during his trauma rounds in the emergency department.  Stories of cocaine abuse and some of the most violent acts of humanity peppered our conversations.  He spoke of patient after patient with long medical records – we questioned which were longer for some, patients’ charts or their rap sheets.  All of these conversations were happening while we were hopping get-togethers, at a crawfish boil at a park on the Mississippi, listening to amazing live music, walking through Audubon Park, or at local hotspots that draw me still to this day.

Born and raised in South Florida, I could say that Miami at the height of the Cocaine Cowboy regime could come close in matching New Orleans on this stark dichotomy.  Thing is, the wealth of the cocaine trade enriched legitimate businesses for over a decade in Dade County and throughout much of South Florida.  The cocaine trade increased extravagance and expensive taste in Miami that some argue were part of the impetus to build and expand landmark shopping districts, plush residential neighborhoods, and a good amount of its infrastructure.  While New Orleans always had a vibrant drug trade, it seems that Orleans Parish never experienced the illicit economic stimulus that Miami received during that era.  Why not?  Why is the New Orleans criminal justice system so impotent while Miami was able to shirk off its violent times and move forward to become a prosperous city once again?

I do know that this history of violence in New Orleans spans generations.  As a graduate research assistant years ago, one of my tasks was to search through microfilm to locate any articles of murders in area newspapers.  The sheer volume of records led me to suggest to the researcher that we switch to digital copies, something that our libraries just got the capability to do.  Looking through the annals of criminological theory, many can begin to explain what is happening on the ground in New Orleans.  You can pick your favorite, I promise it would fit.

What would be more effective is to identify the processes to slow the cycle of violence and get the criminal justice system back on track.  Sure funding would help immensely, and having witnesses that are not scared to get shot in broad daylight would be good as well.  A blue-ribbon team of criminologists, economists, policy-makers, health educators, sociologists, psychologists, medical professionals – you name it – could team up and write a plan to address this need.  Yet, post-Katrina and deep into a recession, New Orleans continues to be the city that care forgot.

More soon…