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| | The New Yorker : fact : content (Site not responding. Last check: 2007-10-17) |
 | | Cooking a pot of dog gumbo.” Another, next to a branch of the Whitney National Bank, read, “I am sleeping inside with a big dog, an ugly woman, two shotguns and a claw hammer.” By the time Hurricane Rita had reflooded parts of the city, there was almost no one left in town. |
 | | Within a day of the bowl of the city filling, TV commentators had instructed viewers that the people fleeing town were under no circumstances to be called refugees: “These are Americans!” Not Bosnians, not Kosovars, not Bangladeshis—Americans. |
 | | And yet, of all the New Orleanians I met—in the city, or in the Cajundome, in Lafayette, in downtown Baton Rouge, in the churches and parks of New Iberia, at the Astrodome in Houston—none gave a damn for the terminology. |
| www.newyorker.com /fact/content/articles/051003fa_fact (6012 words) |
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