NEW ORLEANS — There are few cities like this one.

There are few places in the world so special.

New Orleans is an ancient relic from a bygone era, preserved for generations by its own people, themselves cut from the colorful fabric of this place. They are guardians of America’s most historically festive neighborhood, a more than 300-year-old, 78-square-block hub of merriment that hugs the Mississippi River.

The French Quarter, or, in its native tongue, Vieux Carré, this city’s beating heart, has endured like a timeless but complicated piece of art. Somehow, through hurricane winds, torrential floods and high crimes, the Quarter continues to exist, hanging there like a brilliant painting, mesmerizing visitors with historical charm, tempting them with life’s most exquisite pleasures and mystifying them with a crumbling infrastructure. You’ve never seen potholes so big, building foundations so dilapidated and streets so filthy.

The fragrance of the Quarter is emblematic of its complex nature — a mixture of tasty seafood dishes, overflowing dumpsters and vomit-filled gutters.

They know how to throw a party here. You’ll never have more fun. You’ll never eat a better meal. And you’ll never sip a tastier drink.

As it does on many holidays, the Quarter does it big on New Year’s Eve. The party is elite. The beer is flowing. The wine is pouring. Bars and clubs are packed. Restaurants are booked weeks in advance. Lines are long. Costumes are worn. Beads are thrown.

Tourists converge with locals for a booze-filled celebration of life like no other.

On Tuesday night, this gumbo of a party unfurled across the Quarter. New Orleans was happening all around me, perhaps even rowdier than normal. The Sugar Bowl game, set for Wednesday night, brought into this fine city tens of thousands of Georgia and Notre Dame fans, many of them toasting one another deep into the night, celebrating 2024’s departure and 2025’s arrival, dancing, singing, eating and drinking.

And then, suddenly, on Wednesday morning, three hours into the Year 2025, the party stopped.

A man purposely drove an F-150 into crowds of people along the Quarter’s most famous artery, Bourbon Street, plowing over dozens and leaving at least 10 dead in an act of terror.

Included in the dead, a Princeton football player. Included in those critically wounded, a Georgia student.

Far from significant on a day such as this, officials postponed the Sugar Bowl between Notre Dame and Georgia to 3 p.m. CT on Thursday. As the sun set Wednesday on the city, dozens of police vehicles still peppered the Quarter as pedestrians and TV crews camped out along its sidewalks and medians.

It was a sober scene, perhaps as sober as this place ever gets. The site just hours before of festive and fun turned dark and grim.

Caution tape lined the streets. Police SUVs blocked access to Bourbon Street. And authorities gathered for multiple gloomy news briefings.

“This is not just an act of terrorism, this is evil,” said Anne Kirkpatrick, the city’s police chief. “When we face evil, we have a choice — run in fear or stand in strength.”

New Orleans stands tall. It always stands tall. Its people, those from the city itself and the surrounding area, are some of the most hardened in the country. They live here despite so many issues.

Louisiana is quite literally wasting away into the Gulf of Mexico in one of the most severe forms of coastal erosion. Hurricanes regularly batter its edges. In many ways, this place is falling apart, crumbling, crippled from its old age, its place below sea level and decades of political incompetence.

But here it stands, having to battle yet another tragedy, this one believed to be a full-scale attack on the city’s heart from possibly foreign adversaries. According to an FBI statement, authorities found an ISIS flag inside the truck the assailant used to kill the innocent. The Associated Press reported that multiple pipe bombs were found across the Quarter, devices that were wired for remote detonation by the truck’s driver.

“This was a heinous, cowardly act. And we will bring them to justice,” said Louisiana attorney general Liz Murrill.

Videos captured Wednesday morning show the truck driving along Canal Street at around 3 a.m. Wednesday. As it approaches Bourbon Street, the truck makes a sharp and deadly turn onto the sidewalk of the Bourbon and Canal street intersection, driving around a police vehicle and then barreling down Bourbon before wrecking.

Bourbon was closed to vehicle traffic, transformed as it often is into a pedestrian-only walkway for party-goers to revel.

Typically, mechanical bollards, built into the pavement, erect from the street to protect it from an event such as this. However, as part of the city’s security measures in preparation for hosting the Super Bowl next month, the bollards were under construction.

Would it have mattered? No one really knows. The assailant at least partially used the sidewalk to do his damage.

Questioned about the bollards, city officials on Wednesday seemed to acknowledge the failure. The new security measures were “not complete,” the city’s mayor said.

Shouldn’t they have been in time for New Year’s Eve?

In the light of day Wednesday, the overnight carnage was on display. Though a police SUV and a mobile command unit blocked its entrance, a glimpse down Bourbon was possible. Blood-stained concrete. Debris-covered sidewalks. And heaps of bagged trash.

“Right now, Bourbon Street is an active crime scene,” said Jeff Landry, the state’s governor.

Just down from the scene of the crime, hundreds of Georgia fans gathered to watch the other playoff games at the team’s hotel lobby bar. The Marriott Hotel sits on Canal Street, less than three blocks from the entrance to Bourbon.

It was a surreal scene. Eerie. Chilling.

Dozens of fans, pulling luggage behind them, headed for home, deciding against staying for the postponed game. Others lingered on the street, peering down Bourbon Street. Some occupied themselves with drink, food and a sidewalk game of chess, even. A man named “Checkmate Charlie” challenged folks to a game just a block from the crime scene.

The distractions aside, an uncomfortable feeling lingered here.

In fact, at about 3 p.m. Wednesday, almost exactly 12 hours after the incident, two explosions were heard in the Quarter, triggering police vehicles near Bourbon to spring into action. They raced down Canal Street toward the river, returning soon afterward.

No matter what authorities say or do, fear looms here.

It lingers.

Landry, the Louisiana governor, sent a message to those who want to skip the game out of fear: “Your governor will be there,” he said. “That facility is safer today than it was yesterday.”

That may be true, but many will not rest easy. The Superdome on Thursday is likely to be only partially full.

“I promise you as the chief of police of this city … we have a plan and we know what to do,” Kirkpatrick said. “We are going to get these people.”

As night fell in this fine city, New Orleans’ heartbeat still pumped. Save for Bourbon Street, the Quarter buzzed with life. Sidewalks were bustling. Bars were bursting.

A coward and his truck won’t stop this place.