A few friends who have written books before cautioned me that the hardest part about writing a book is the acknowledgments, because someone indispensable will undoubtedly be left off. So let me start by thanking all of you for reading this book and giving me an opportunity to share my thoughts on history and this moment we find ourselves in today.
This work is the culmination of nearly thirty years of public service to the people of Louisiana. Throughout it all, I have sought to fight for justice, and perhaps more relevant today, to fight for truth. It’s been both an honor and a burden. The honor comes from the incredible opportunity to be in the middle of this awesome thing we call democracy, in good times and in bad, which leads us—sometimes lurches us—forward, sometimes backward, and hopefully at last toward a better nation. The burden, honestly, comes from the intense isolation and loneliness one feels and the weight of being responsible for the safety, security, and well-being of the people you have been entrusted to serve. It is a burden that I chose to bear and one that I would gladly do again. But it is a burden nonetheless, and it has hurt pretty badly from time to time. At the end of the day, the joy outweighed the pain and the sacrifice was worth it. After thirty years of stellar service to the people of my state, most people will only ever remember that I took down some statues. If I had my wish, they would say that I helped rebuild a broken city and took a huge step forward towards healing a hurting nation. But most importantly, that I was honest and sought the truth.
I’m not the only leader who has borne the honor and the burden of this work. I must also recognize the countless civil rights advocates, elected officials, and groups like Take ’Em Down NOLA in New Orleans and across the country that have also paved the way on issues of race and have done their part to bend the arc of the moral universe toward justice.
I can’t remember doing or accomplishing anything by myself my entire life. Everything I have done well has been with the aid, assistance, and support of so many people. This book, of course, is no different.
To the people of New Orleans, I am indebted for the opportunity to serve the city I love so dearly. I pray that one day you realize how very special you are, and that you don’t wait for the next catastrophe to begin to rise above small things, so you can get to the big stuff soon. You deserve it. To my fellow mayors across America, keep fighting the good fight. Thank you for inspiring me daily with your bold leadership.
I am grateful to the folks at Viking Penguin for guiding me through the process and for giving me the opportunity to share my thoughts with all of you. Thanks to the best editor you could ask for in Wendy Wolf, another New Orleans native, might I add. From the moment we first spoke, I knew she would ensure that this was a story grounded in speaking truth to power, but also truth in love—for as much as there is despair, from our hometown there is a message of hope, resurrection, and redemption. To my agents, Keith Urbahn, Matt Latimer, and the team at Javelin, your counsel and advice throughout has been invaluable.
This process has been easy because of the great talents of New Orleans’s own Jason Berry. Jason, of course, achieved prominence for his investigative reporting on the Catholic Church abuse crisis in the 1990s. I first got to know him well while he was exposing David Duke in the 1980s and ’90s; he has been everything you could ask for in a collaborator. I know this was a heavy lift for him as he carved out time from work on his forthcoming history of New Orleans, City of a Million Dreams, to assist me, nights and weekends, given my daily schedule. I am eternally grateful for his time, talent, and friendship throughout this writing process.
Those who have worked with me know that I go through dozens of versions of a speech before I give it. Sam Joel has been my scribe and speechwriter over the past eight years.
This book and most speeches would not have been possible without the shepherding and writing of Ryan Berni from beginning to end.
To my staff at City Hall, literally the best team in America: I can do what I do because you dedicate your life to a cause greater than one’s self. You are the team who helped rebuild a broken city, who reengineered an improbable comeback story. As if that weren’t enough, you endured the grueling work through trying times in the attempt to get the statues down. There were protests. There were threats. But through it all, you not only kept your eyes focused on the end, you also kept the city running well, laying a stronger foundation for the future. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brooke Smith, Judy Reese Morse, Ryan Berni, Rebecca Dietz, Jeff Hebert, Cedric Grant, Scott Hutcheson, Sam Joel, Tyronne Walker, Sarah Robertson Miller, Zach Butterworth, Aaron Miller, Vincent Smith, Dani Galloway, Katie Dignan, Michael Harrison, Timmy McConnell, George Patterson, Eddie Sens, Andy Kopplin, Emily Arata, Sharonda Williams, Alex Lebow, Suzie Sepcich, April Davenport, Glenda Patterson, Mary Pettingill, Erin Burns, Bob, Gary, and many others. And to all of their families, who sacrificed so much of their time during our service together.
Thanks to Flozell Daniels and the Foundation for Louisiana for stepping up to serve as a fiscal partner in the monument removal effort. And to all the philanthropic donors who assisted.
To Ruth and Larry Kullman and Norma Jane Sabiston, whose friendship and guidance I rely upon daily. Thanks also to Scott Shalett.
I will always be indebted to the spiritual guidance and moral clarity of two Jesuit priests, Father Harry Tompson and Father Paul Schott, and finally to the Men of Manresa for keeping me in your prayers. AMDG.
To my eight brothers and sisters, thank you for your friendship, love, and support.
A special thanks and note of gratitude to my father and mother, Moon and Verna Landrieu. As a young boy, I watched my father help integrate our great American city. His strength, his resolve, his clarity of vision, and his relentless focus on the people he served inspires me every day. My mother, keeping all nine of us kids in check while also serving as my dad’s most important adviser, is the closest living person to a saint. They taught all nine of us to love one another. To be fair, honest, and just. They taught us to work hard and play hard. To be thankful and to help others. You are my heroes and role models.
As it should be, my unconditional love and thanks to my wife, Cheryl, and our five kids, Grace, Emily, Matt, Ben, and Will. Thank you for your sacrifices. I love you.
And finally, to one of my heroes, John Lewis, who gives me the courage to keep going and to stand in the face of danger even when you know you are going to get hit.