Brendan McCarthy: Early in Paul Gailiunas’ film, “The Florestine Collection,” there’s a song that plays as a love letter of sorts to New Orleans. It’s an upbeat, joyous ditty on the city’s allures: red beans and rice, the Rebirth Brass Band, chicory coffee at 3 a.m.
“We want our children to know why we love that city, so let’s go back to New Orleans,” he sings.
Gailiunas wrote it years ago — after the flood, before he and his wife and their infant boy returned to their adopted city. He wrote it before his wife was killed here, before gunshots wrecked his hand, before grief sent him away vowing never to return.
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