Sculptor Brian Hanlon and former Saint Steve Gleason look over the Rebirth Sculpture dedicated Friday

Lots of stadiums all over America have statues of famous former players no doubt beloved by the fans.

The plaza level of the Mercedes-Benz Superdome now sports a sculpture that, while honoring a player, also is about a moment in time.

Based on some of the comments I heard from people Friday, many fans may think of the “Rebirth” sculpture as the “Gleason statue.”  Indeed, it depicts that famous moment, on September 25, 2006, when Steve Gleason stepped in front of Michael Koenen and made the Falcons punter a footnote in Saints history.  The Saints scored, the dome erupted.

Gleason, who has inspired the city once again with his brave fight against ALS, talked Friday about that moment as one of “resurgence.”  It has come to symbolize the city announcing to the world that, not only were the Saints back in the Superdome, but the city was back, open for business, re-energized, resilient.  In that sense, this sculpture depicts a player, a play, and a moment in time.

The entire Saints team turned out for the unveiling, dodging raindrops and eventually being driven inside by a lighting storm.  It was fitting, perhaps, that on the day this particular sculpture was dedicated, there would be obstacles to overcome.

“Everyone felt the same way when that (kick) was blocked,” said Saints owner Tom Benson.  ”Our city is coming back.”

Steve Gleason at Rebirth Sculpture

Brian Hanlon, the sculptor, said he his aim was not to “decorate landscapes with sculptures.  I want to create meaningful markers.  This is a meaningful marker.”

Hanlon captures the instant in time when Gleason made contact with the ball, an image frozen in the minds of the Saints nation– and now, immortalized in bronze.

Under Cover– sculpture before its unveiling Friday morning

If this were a news story, the headline would read “Louisiana makes progress in fight against swamp rat,” or maybe “Nutria gobble up less of the marsh.”

Since this is a blog, the author has a certain license to stray (it’s my blog afterall).

While I was doing some research for a story on Louisiana’s bounty program, the Coastwide Nutria Control Program, one number jumped off the page.

Since the state began subsidizing the nutria market a decade ago, hunters and trappers have bagged 3,263,696 nutria.

These orange-toothed intruders from South America have gobbled up a big chunk of the state’s coastline over the years.

The good news– if you’re not a nutria– is that the bounty program appears to have produced dramatic results in reducing damage to the coast, according to the latest numbers from the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries.

Nutria have proven to be a potent adversary, partly because they have no natural predators in Louisiana and partly because they are extremely prolific.

Born to Breed

They practically are born to breed, reaching sexual maturity at six months of age.

In one year, an adult nutria can produce two litters and be pregnant for a third.

Each litter brings four or five more young, fully furred and ready to have more babies within months.

The 2012 aerial survey of nutria damage by Wildlife and Fisheries estimates the rodent impacted 4,233 acres of the coast.

Compared to the 6,296 acres in 2011, the new figures represent a 33% decrease in damaged areas.  Even those numbers tell only part of the story.

Only a decade ago, nutria were chomping on about 15 times more land.

The state conducted the first aerial surveys to track nutria damage in 1998, just as the problem was peaking.

The following year the swamp rats munched on an estimated 102,585 acres, turning much of that land to open water.  As plant and roots died, and with nothing to hold the ground in place, thousands of acres were turning to open water.

Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries

Since 2001, annual coast wide aerial surveys have documented approximately 26,273 acres of marsh converted to open water due to nutria vegetative damage, according to the report.

That was bad enough.  Then, state coastal experts started noticing the nutria were feeding in areas where marsh had been rebuilt.  They documented at least 11 Coastal Wetlands Planning Protection and Restoration Act (CWPPRA) project sites in the Barataria and Terrebonne Basins where the rat had feasted on new land– courtesy of taxpayer dollars.

Beginning in 2002, the state fought back with the bounty.

In the 2011-2012 season, trappers and hunters bagged 354,000 nutria tails, according the Wildlife and Fisheries.

Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries Data

Most of the damage today is confined to Terrebonne Parish, where the state report estimates the nutria inflict more than 90 percent of their harm.

Louisiana Department of Wildlife & Fisheries

Last year, a Lake Pontchartrain Basin Foundation study found nutria damage to marsh has been largely held in check.

However, they remain a cunning adversary and a significant threat to young cypress trees.

It took about ten seconds to bring down the old Grand Palace– or Pallas Hotel, or Ramada, etc.  Here’s a frame-by-frame look at the action:

New Orleans– Work crews brought down the former Pallas Hotel in the first downtown implosion in the city’s history.  Actually, the building had many lives, including one in which it was called the Grand Palace– hence, the confusion.  For a time, it was also an apartment complex.  After months of preparation, the building at Canal and Claiborne finally met its end Sunday morning.  Work crews set off explosives to allow gravity to bring the building crashing onto itself.  The demolition will make way for part of the LSU Medical Center campus.

For a slideshow of the action, scroll through the pictures below:

Scientists have searched for a way to visualize Louisiana’s land loss, something to help the rest of us to wrap our arms around this complex issue.  One of the most descriptive is the estimate that, over the course of 45 minutes or so, the state loses the equivalent of a football field of land.

Two years ago, FOX 8 began a series of reports on a tiny island in the southern part of Plaquemines Parish.  Our idea was to chronicle the story of Cat Island, a tiny speck of sand that has been losing its battle with the Gulf of Mexico.  Not to be confused with the more famous Cat Island, Mississippi, Louisiana’s “Cat Island” sits isolated in the southern part of Barataria Bay.   We never would have heard of the place if not for the 2010 Gulf oil spill.  Four weeks after the Macondo well blowout, oil began piling onto the island and smaller island about half-a-mile to the east.  Many of the early images of oiled pelicans were captured on Cat Island as the currents drove oil into the Bay.

The western edge of Louisiana’s Cat Island in Barataria Bay. Note the 2012 picture was shot at high tide. However, it is no longer possible to wake on that portion of the island in low or high tide.

Cat Island’s problems began long before BP.  As recently as 1998, the U.S. Geological Survey estimates the island stretched over 40 acres; the USGS puts the figure at less than one acre.  Cut off from the river’s land-building material, the island has been defenseless against storm surge, wave action and everyday tidal flow.  Plaquemines Parish officials argue the spill drove oil into the mangrove trees holding the place together, cutting short the island’s life.

Having said all that, never did we dream we would watch the island vanish before our eyes.  Four acres on the day of the spill, Cat island has steadily eroded over the last couple of years.

This small island, photographed on Sept. 15, 2011, has been completely submerged even in low tide.

Plaquemines Parish plans a restoration effort.  It has secured funding to design a rock barrier, artificial oyster reef, or some means of cutting down the wave action.  However, it still must land the necessary government permits and the funding to dredge sand and dirt in an effort to build back Cat Island.