A Tragedy

Poor Addie Hall. Bless her heart. Mid-twenties, dead. Killed by her insane boyfriend. Made it through the storm only to come to this end.

But could this story be any more "only in a bad New Orleans B movie?"

Murder/suicide in New Orleans' French Quarter above a voodoo shop on Rampart Street with body parts in the oven and a head in a pot on the stove. The apartment's landlord a failed mayoral candidate and the perpetrator jumps from a balcony of a major hotel populated by out of towners. And all of this allegedly brought on by infidelity.

Let's see what the national press is going to do with this tragedy. No doubt the Quarter will be filled with reporters trying to tie this to . . . . . . oh, you name it.

I am not making light of this. It's a horror. I am, however, not looking forward to the national press feeding frenzy. I can hear the clucking now.

EDIT: Zackery Bowen, it turns out, was a bartender at one of our regular haunts and was an Iraq/Afghanistan war vet.

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