I look at my hands and my hands are new I look at my feet and they are, too... ...don't worry 'bout me. Slightly Broken Ella Mae Hogue, from under her umbrella, sings quietly to herself while she waits for a breeze to relieve the suffocating August heat. From her front porch on Seventh Street, she looks out on the cemetery across the street, the massive spreading canopies of live oaks along Washington Avenue, and the tops of the office towers of the Central Business District perhaps half a mile away. The trees have always been there, as far as she's concerned, but the office towers are new to her. Ella Mae is 84 years old, we think, which would mean she was born around 1925. In her lifetime, New Orleans has been knocked flat by
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