After Bourbon Street reopened Thursday afternoon, crowds returned to the area that was a horrific crime scene just a day earlier. Musicians went back to their usual corners in the French Quarter and resumed playing, and bars were buzzing again.
There was little trace of the carnage that unfolded as a U.S. Army veteran drove a pickup into revelers in the early hours of New Year’s Day — except for a small memorial with flowers on the corner of Bourbon and Canal Streets, where the attack occurred. The sidewalk next to it was adorned with Mardi Gras beads, a teddy bear and an empty bottle of tequila. A woman burned sage nearby. A drummer stopped his music when he passed.
On Thursday, many in the area had a story to share about the attack that killed 14 and injured dozens, based on what they witnessed themselves or what they heard from someone who did.
Inside the bar Daiquiris Delight Shop, 15 flavors were swirling in the frozen drink machines as Charles Wandfluh, a co-owner, told two customers about what he saw that night, when the attacker’s truck came to a stop right outside the bar.
“I don’t know that the magnitude of the whole thing really sets in yet,” said Mr. Wandfluh, 56.
Law enforcement officials still roamed the area, with the Louisiana State Police stationed at intersections to block vehicle traffic from Bourbon Street and a Homeland Security Investigations-armored vehicle parked on Canal Street. A few people in F.B.I. jackets walked the street.
Scott Miller and Tammy Blayney, who were visiting from California, were relieved that Bourbon Street had returned to life. The previous day had been “very eerie,” Mr. Miller, 60, said. Now, they joined the crowd of people listening and dancing as Da One Way Brass Band played.
The band played “I’ll Fly Away,” a hymn that is a staple of New Orleans jazz funerals, in honor of the victims of the attack, according to Tyronne Johnson, a tuba player and the band’s leader.
To Mr. Johnson, 26, Thursday felt like any other afternoon — aside from the ubiquitous reporters and the law enforcement officials walking past in camouflage and helmets.
His mother hadn’t wanted the players to come to the area, fearing the scene was still dangerous. But he insisted: Playing on Bourbon Street is what he does.
“I wake up looking forward to playing my horn for tourists,” he said.
