Charity in the Quarters

I first met Dr. Fred when he was a resident at Charity Hospital. He was a typical play child of the Quarter when he wasn’t working. He could create more chaos and indulge in more pleasure than the average Quarter Rat. Yet, he would disappear sometimes and be working at Charity Hospital. But his charity did not stop at the hospital.


There is many a poor person in the Vieux Carré, which literally means old city. Sure there are plenty of tourists with their American Express Gold Cards and insurance to cover any accidents when they are whooping it up in the Big Easy, but the folks who live and exist in the quarter, the service people, the dancers and bar tenders, the tour guides, the homeless wouldn’t know Blue Cross if it hit them in the face in front of St. Louis Cathedral. Many survive at less the poverty level doing everything from selling paintings to tourists, doing performance art, leading tourists through the mysteries and histories of New Orleans and cooking and cleaning and driving horse-drawn carriages and more.


I think the French Quarter is the only place that I can remember a doctor coming to my house because I was ill. It is the only place I can remember a doctor coming to the house when my granddaughter was running a high fever and her mother didn’t know what to do and didn’t have money for cab fare to the hospital emergency room. That was Doctor Fred. When my husband’s blood pressure shot through the roof, Dr. Fred showed up with samples to keep him alive when we were broke.


When I listened to the stories of the horror at Charity Hospital during the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, I thought of Doctor Fred. I wondered if he were there or if he had gone elsewhere or if he were up in the attic of some house with waters rising waiting to be rescued. I don’t know. I just know that when time has passed and many folks get back to a semi-normal life, Dr. Fred will be whooping it up and creating chaos and fun and perhaps a bit of debauchery (no a lot of debauchery), but he will still be proving that charity begins in your own neighborhood where folks will still not have insurance, still will not be able to afford medication, and some will still be experiencing that old-fashioned concept of a house call from a friend who is also a doctor.