Herreast Harrison
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ROWELL: When you first heard about Hurricane Katrina, did you respond the way it is said so many people in New Orleans have responded to hurricanes over the years? That is, ignore the news of its approach, or remain in the city but prepare to "ride out the storm"? What was your response?
HARRISON: When I heard that Hurricane Katrina was approaching New Orleans, I immediately tried to secure many of the archival objects I had in my home by taking them out of my home and placing them in storage. But I had a limited amount of time to remove hundreds of objects. My daughters Cherice and Michele had rented two separate storage units and we spent most of Friday, August 26 and Saturday, August 27 bringing those things to the storage facility. The storage facility closed early on Saturday. Because the facility closed early, Michele and I then proceeded to put things as high up as we could in the house, just in case there would be flooding. I'm always expecting it to flood in New Orleans. Sometimes it floods after a heavy rainstorm. You anticipate these things.
The archival objects I'm referring to were so precious to us; they meant so much that we wanted to secure them as much as possible. But we had to leave a lot of the things in the home. We knew immediately that we would be evacuating New Orleans.
ROWELL: When you say "archival objects," what are you referring to?
HARRISON: I'm referring to cultural suits that my husband made and quilts that my mother and grandmother had made. I'm talking about a lot of handcrafted items, record collections, the first instruments my son and my grandsons used . . . and things like that.
ROWELL: What are "cultural suits"?
HARRISON: The suits are handcrafted. I'm talking about the beaded and stoned aprons, jackets, cuffs, and collars that my husband used when he masked as a Mardi Gras Indian. I had all those things. I had the quilts, and I had some hand-beaded pieces that were framed—and pieces my children had beaded as well. We used those for displays and workshop presentations. All those things were left in the house. My son, Donald Harrison, [End Page 1233] Jr., is an internationally known jazz musician and my grandson Christian Scott is an emerging jazz musician. My son's entire vinyl record collection was destroyed. I had countless numbers of magazines and articles that had been done on him, and just many, many things—cards and letters from people from around the world, just all types of collections. I had magazine articles on my late husband. I had the books that he appeared in—so many thing that were precious to us—especially those quilts. My mother lived to be one hundred years old and six months. She made quilts until she was maybe ninety-nine. I had some of her quilts in my home. I think I managed to save one of then. But it was just too much. We had too many things. When you've lived in a house for over forty years, you cannot just get everything out in a short period of time that's important to you.
ROWELL: Who was your husband?
HARRISON: My husband was Donald Harrison Senior, who masked as a Mardi Gras Indian. He started in 1949 as a young man, and he just loved that particular tradition and wanted to be a part of it. He stayed in New Orleans all of those years to participate in that. I think he loved masking as much as he loved his family. He was just a teenager when he entered the cultural tradition and became committed to it, perpetuating and continuing the tradition in the community.
ROWELL: You've mentioned your grandson, a jazz musician.
HARRISON: My grandson, Christian Scott and...
