Five days after Louisiana was struck by a heinous act of terror, the state's most famous party officially kicked off.
Monday was Epiphany, the first day of Carnival season, traditionally a day when folks replace Christmas decorations with the purple, green and gold of Mardi Gras. King cakes were sold, bought and shared, and the Krewe de Jeanne d'Arc parade rolled through the French Quarter, just like every year on Jan. 6.
But this is a Carnival season unlike any other.
New Orleans and all of Louisiana are still grieving after a terrorist drove a truck down Bourbon Street, taking 14 innocent lives and injuring dozens more. The attack ended only when heroic police officers shot and killed the perpetrator, which may have prevented him from detonating bombs he had planted in his truck and around the French Quarter.
The entire state is in mourning -- and will continue to mourn -- through this year's late Mardi Gras and well beyond. Gov. Jeff Landry's order that state and U.S. flags to be flown at half-staff for one day for each victim is a fitting remembrance.
Louisiana has certainly seen tragedy before, and like then, Louisianans are offering an outpouring of love and support for the victims and everyone who has suffered. It's one of the things we love about this state and its people.
Since Jan. 1, federal and state investigators have been running down leads and tracking attacker Shamsud-Din Jabbar's movements and actions over the last few months. They have looked into his international travel and the fact that he had a ISIS flag on this truck and, according to investigators, had pledged allegiance to the group in Facebook videos posted before the attack.
There are also important questions about the security plan that was in place and why bollards were not there when Jabbar struck.
We may never know exactly why the attack happened or whether it could have been prevented, but we do know this: It was designed to sow fear.
Jabbar targeted one of the most famous spots in New Orleans, victimizing innocent locals and visitors doing what we do best here: having a good time.
Our job, now, is not to give in to that fear, to hold on to what we love about this place we call home and to continue to celebrate it.
We expect that these first celebrations will be muted, understandably so. Security will be tight and vigilance high, as it should be, and sadness will certainly linger. But Carnival must go forward.
We were Louisianans before the terrible crime that happened early New Year's morning, and we will continue to be Louisianans after.