Care did not forget...

Walking along deserted streets I observe piles of debris lining the sidewalks. Though the water has long subsided, very few homes remain in this once bustling part of New Orleans called the Lower Ninth Ward. It’s been nearly three years since Hurricane Katrina hit, but as a newly arrived Australian, this is my first visit. I scan the brown water level stains still apparent on homes and wonder how anyone escaped.

I’m beginning to understand why this was termed the most catastrophic engineering disaster ever on American soil. One bathroom still has the CD player plugged into a wall, the bath beside it filled with rubble. When the levy walls broke, the flood engulfed everything in its path. People didn’t have time to think. They just dropped everything and ran.

Many accusations were cast after Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans on August 29, 2005. As quickly as Katrina dismantled 80% of the city, pointing fingers began searching for someone to blame. She had traditionally been called the “City that Care Forgot,” and after the hurricane, New Orleanians felt more alone than ever before.

The extensive flooding stranded many residents who had chosen to remain with their homes. Survivors yelled from rooftops desperate for someone to save them. Some were trapped inside attics, unable to escape, while others hacked their way onto roofs with axes.

The Mayor of New Orleans, Ray Nagin, described the loss of life as "significant" amidst reports of bloated corpses floating on the water throughout the city. The National Guard even began setting up temporary morgues to handle the nearly 2000 bodies. Clean water was scarce and electricity unreliable, a situation that would continue for weeks.

Eight out of ten houses were flooded and many wondered if the city and her people would recover. But in late 2005, while the community at large festered over the amount of government action, concerned citizens began to stand. In their thousands they traveled to New Orleans and offered their services to help restore the community.

Steve and Bronwen Niles have been facilitating teams throughout the city. Bronwyn says, “One church was feeding five thousand people daily and needed seventy volunteers every day. We were able to work together.” Initially, many groups facilitated the distribution of food in large quantities. This continued for months after Katrina, past Christmas of 2005 and into 2006.

It was then that a much larger task became evident. The flood accompanying the hurricane had left many homes unsafe to live in. Some were beyond repair, but others could be rebuilt, enabling families to begin life again. “That’s when we realized this (rebuilding of houses) changes people’s lives, it gives them hope. It’s the first step in restoration,” says Bronwen.

As teams continued to flow into the city, restoring houses became the obvious priority. The citizens of New Orleans began to hope again as volunteers rebuilt their homes. Bronwen says, “People would break down weeping, as we told them we could do their home. They saw that they weren’t alone in their suffering, they weren’t abandoned. So many people were coming to help.”

People of different races have come together, who otherwise wouldn’t have met if it hadn’t been for the Hurricane. Teams came from all over the country. Bronwen says, “Even in the recent months, you could go out to a neighborhood where the houses haven’t been rebuilt much and see seven or more different vans from church groups working there.”

Many hundreds of thousands have come to help in the three years since the hurricane. They have restored hope to many. Teams are still coming and continue to help rebuild lives. When asked what she would say to the people who have come to help, Bronwen’s voice cracks as she says, “I would thank them. We wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for those people. They were total strangers, but they came to help us. I don’t know if there’s ever been anything like this in history, where people of a nation, came to help another part of that nation to the degree that has happened here.”

One man in another area of New Orleans discovered that his house had been rebuilt. He called Bronwen and asked, “Did your group do my house?” She answered, “No I don’t think so, but I’ll check.” Going by the house Bronwen and Steve saw that the house had indeed been completed. They asked a neighbor if he knew who had finished the work and the neighbor said, “Oh, it was the Christians, of course, some Christians from out of state.”

However, three years on and many parts of the Lower Ninth Ward remain desolate and mostly uninhabited. Where once there were hundreds of houses, now only a smattering remains.
We pull up outside one of the familiar FEMA trailers where residents lived after the disaster. The man who lives in this trailer is Bob Green. He lost his wife and daughter in Katrina. A crude tombstone shaped sign sits outside the van with a scrawled handwritten message. “We want our country to love us, as much as we love our country.”

Some local businesses have reopened and residents have returned, but even now ruined possessions remain inside many damaged homes. On the floor amongst the rubble I see abandoned toys and CD cases. In another, furniture is still upturned where it was thrown in the flood.

Much still needs to be restored in this city, but people have begun to stand and take responsibility for their fellow man. Volunteers working alongside residents have nurtured a new environment of trust and working together. The motto of New Orleans used to be, the city that care forgot. But it is a fact that people have cared and they continue to come.