Picking up the pieces
After Katrina: Lives in limbo. Hurricane evacuees living in Stafford return to New Orleans home, assess their options
Date published: 12/18/2005
Story by RUSTY DENNEN
Photos by REBECCA SELL
NEW ORLEANS—Leon and Tonda Batiste’s lives used to revolve around the tidy,
three-bedroom frame house they bought with their life savings in the
Hollygrove neighborhood of Orleans Parish on the east side of the city.
This is the New Orleans that most tourists never see, where folks of
modest means live about as far as one can get from the million-dollar
mansions of the city’s Garden District and French Quarter just a few miles
away.
This was not one of the stops where city politicians and President Bush
promised help and delivered hopeful messages about financial aid and housing
assistance.
Though it’s a tough place, and sometimes dangerous, it’s home. Neighbors
would come over for red beans and rice, and their 7-year-old daughter,
Leondra, would visit friends along Forshey Street.
That’s gone with Katrina.
The remnants of their lives are now piled up on the sidewalk outside:
broken furniture still sodden nearly four months after the monster storm,
photo albums faded by putrid water that reached up to the rooftop, drawers
full of mementos and memories.
All of it, except for a precious few items—a portrait of Leon smiling
proudly in his Army uniform in 1978, some knickknacks, a clock and a few
mementos—are headed for the dump. Just down the block, a man scavenged for
anything useful in front of one abandoned home.
“I’m dragging everything out of there,” said Leon, wearing a thin dust mask
and gloves to protect himself from the mold. Knee-high black rubber boots
deflect nails in the flood-buckled pine flooring. “In this house, pretty
much everything is gone.”
In the small living room, Tonda reached under a pile of wet debris. She
lifted ed up her mask in for a moment of exhilaration to say, “Baby, you
might could salvage some of these pictures!”
For the past several weeks, the Batistes have lived in an apartment in
Stafford County, where they have extended family. Leondra waited for them
there, asking her mom on the phone each evening when they were coming home.
They are among dozens of hurricane evacuees living with relatives in the
Fredericksburg area.
The Batistes, like so many thousands of Katrina Diaspora around the country,
are in an aching state of need. They’ve received about $5,300 from the
Federal Emergency Management Agency, the federal government’s point entity
on disaster relief.
Date published: 12/18/2005
|