Lilla Frederick's untimely death last January stunned neighbors and friends. The colorful and dedicated Grove Hall activist died alone, at home, in the midst of a wintry cold blast that likely caused her death after a fall.

Her cruel, lonely ending was so unlike much of her life.

Frederick is one of the key people who has helped to breathe new life into that part of our neighborhood. In ways large and small, Frederick's persistence led to concrete improvements along the corridor between Blue Hill Avenue and Columbia Road.

Fellow community activists, politicians, school officials, neighbors- they all seem to agree: Renaming a two-year old New Boston Pilot Middle School in Frederick's honor is a novel way to remember a woman who gave so much of herself through the years.

Frederick played a pivotal role in siting the school on Columbia Road. Once it was built, Frederick helped to set the tone for school, prevailing in a debate that instituted mandatory school uniforms, something that Frederick insisted would help the school raise expectations and achievement.

A native of Jamaica, Frederick was also the board president of Project RIGHT (Rebuild and Improve Grove Hall Together), and a longtime leader of the Boston Caribbean Foundation. She also led by example in more subtle ways, like serving as a election day warden at the Burke polling station in ward 14.

Sometimes, communities choose epic historical figures - like Pope John Paul II or Martin Luther King, to mark their boulevards and public spaces. And that's altogether proper, too. But, once in a while, it's fitting for us to recognize that in quiet, humble ways, our next door neighbors can also rise to great heights, just by being good, honest citizens. Lilla Frederick was one of those people.

Two national tragedies stir our conscience

It is natural, even good, that many of us have let emotions take over in our reactions to the last week's horrendous images from the southern United States. If the footage from New Orleans, Biloxi and the hamlets and Bayou towns in between fail to move you, then you are, quite simply, unmovable.

The last domestic tragedy of such magnitude, September 11, had a similar impact: Americans released fear, anger, and grief by uniting in patriotism. Of course, the attacks on America by terrorism, it must be said a week out from Katrina, are truly different. The events were similar, really, only in their dramatic effect on the American psyche. Comparing New York City Mayor Rudolph Guliani's awe-inspiring reaction to that terrible Tuesday morning in 2001, for example, to that of his counterpart in New Orleans this past week is both unfair and unproductive.

Right now, a whole region of this country is in tatters and likely will be for years to come. Rebuilding the Gulf Coast will require leadership and investment unseen since the administration of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Millions have been displaced, many of them permanently. Rebuilding New Orleans alone will likely be the 21st Century's equivalent of the Hoover dam project. We will all need to sacrifice to make a speedy recovery. And, from this vantage point, it seems likely that the will is there to do just that.

Let's refrain, for now at least, from blaming mayors, governors, and even presidents. Let's get to the business of helping each other. This weekend, let's reflect how we felt that September day four years ago, on how we regarded our fellow Americans, and let our emotions lead the way again.