Katrina’s painful legacy still lingers in New Orleans
Allen G. Breed and Cain Burdeau
NEW ORLEANS — Two years after Hurricane Katrina, much of the “city that care forgot’’ still lies in ruins.
There may be hope, but there are few assurances for the recovering Big Easy.
“For every positive that’s going on in New Orleans right now, there’s a negative, there’s a concern,” says Reed Kroloff, who until recently was dean of the school of architecture at Tulane University.
The failure of federally funded, state-administered recovery programs to quickly take hold and the city’s struggle to define and fund plans for neighborhood redevelopment have shaken confidence about New Orleans’ short-term future. Mayor Ray Nagin favors a “market-driven” recovery of the city. Critics say he has not made the tough decisions necessary to get planning for the city’s future moving into high gear.
There are geophysical challenges ahead, too. By 2015, parts of New Orleans will have subsided nearly an additional 8 inches. The city filled up like a bowl when Katrina broke levees on Aug. 29, 2005. Roughly 240 more square miles of the eroding wetlands that protect the city from storm surge will be gone by 2015.
If the Army Corps of Engineers has its way, and billions in federal funds don’t get siphoned off by war or another natural disaster, those who remain should be better protected from flooding by 2015.
To the east, a massive levee-and-floodgate structure rising out of the brackish marsh should block the surge from the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway and the Mississippi River-Gulf Outlet, or MR-GO. To the north, new floodgates and pumping stations would prevent a surge from Lake Pontchartrain and prevent a repeat of the failures along the city’s drainage canals.
Health care challenges and the dearth of affordable housing will continue to influence the pace of recovery.
Nearly half of the hospitals open in the parish before Katrina remain closed, and one is a shell of its former self. The remaining hospitals serving the city lost a combined $56 million in the first five months of 2007, and the projected operating loss for the year is $135 million, says Leslie Hirsch, who took over Touro Infirmary a week before Katrina.
Before Katrina, many locals rented homes — garrets in the French Quarter, wings of faded mansions in Uptown, shotgun homes in Bywater. For the impoverished, sprawling public housing projects offered shelter to more than 5,000 families.
But Katrina closed four-fifths of that subsidized housing.
The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development wants to demolish four of the biggest housing projects and turn them into Norman Rockwellian mixed-income neighborhoods. That plan has met with fierce opposition from housing advocates who fear the poor would lose their foothold.
In the predominantly black Lower 9th Ward, the city’s poorest neighborhood, streetlights are back on and water is flowing. But while there are houses being repaired here and there, and even some innovative solar power projects being instituted, there are vast stretches of empty, weed-choked lots and rooftops still covered in storm debris.
In mostly white Lakeview, where water levels topped 10 feet in some areas, things are booming.
Harrison Avenue, the main business strip, is fairly buzzing with banks, restaurants, even a Starbucks. Medians once strewn with debris and rotting garbage are now blooming again with crepe myrtles.
Campanella, the Tulane geographer, thinks time, weather patterns and the insurance market will prove the folly of allowing people to reoccupy the city’s old footprint. He sees the future in New Orleans’ past.
Campanella says more than half of New Orleans is at or above sea level. But while nearly all New Orleanians occupied high ground a century ago, only 38 percent lived at or above sea level when Katrina hit.
Using satellite imagery, he has mapped about 2,000 empty or underutilized above-sea-level parcels covering an area about three times the size of the French Quarter.
“All I’m saying is we have this valuable natural resource that’s being underutilized,” he says, sitting in a grassy lot between two coffee warehouses in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood.
And what happens with the public school system, long blamed as the root cause of New Orleans’ entrenched poverty, will also shape the city’s future.
Katrina accelerated a process of replacing the corrupt, underperforming system with reformed traditional schools and charter schools. Recently released test results show higher scores among the charter students. But the system is having trouble attracting teachers.
The clean slate attracted John Alford, a Harvard Business School graduate who moved from Baltimore to run the Langston Hughes Academy Charter School. By the storm’s tenth anniversary, he expects 90 percent of the city’s schools to be independently run charters.
“If we do what we’re supposed to do,” he says, “it can be a glorious city.”
Crime remains rampant. Meanwhile, the New Orleans Police Department is still operating out of trailers, and the force continues to lose more officers to retirement and resignations than it can graduate from its academy.
Changes in organization and funding of the criminal courts and public defenders’ offices promise to shore up a foundering judicial system. But with a per-capita murder rate that leads the nation, the city has an uphill struggle to present an image of being safe.
Katrina continues to bring pain.
On a recent day, Stanley Joyce, 68, stood in line at City Hall with hundreds of others seeking to challenge their new property assessments. The valuation on his house just outside the French Quarter more than doubled. He knows the city needs the tax revenue. But that’s a lot to swallow all at once, especially in a city whose waterlines are crumbling and streets are riddled with tire-swallowing potholes.
“If they want to go ahead and buy my house for the price that they assessed it for, I’d sell it to them tomorrow,” said Joyce, waving a manila folder with his property records.
Tourism is a bittersweet bright spot. The French Quarter survived Katrina, and the music and restaurant scenes continue to rebound. Some musicians are still missing in action. But jazz trumpeter Kermit Ruffins, a co-founder of the renowned Rebirth Brass Band, says he and friends are busy as ever.
“It’s just so wonderful to be alive and swinging in New Orleans,” he says. “We’re going to be buried here, man. That’s for sure. That’s for damn sure.”
Most of the city’s signature restaurants — Brennan’s, Emeril’s, Commander’s Palace — have reopened.
A 70-story Trump hotel and condominium tower is planned for the central business district.
“There will be a Trump Tower,” Cliff Mowe, one of The Donald’s co-developers, said last week during a visit to the city for meetings with project attorneys and real estate people.
The building is not scheduled for completion until 2010, but Mowe says developers have received several hundred reservations and deposits from prospective tenants — many for units costing nearly $2 million.
But as millionaires stake out lofty digs, the city continues to bleed jobs. Tourism is notoriously poor-paying. There are huge questions about where thousands of good-paying jobs needed to sustain the city’s rebound will come from.
Since Katrina, the oil industry has continued a shrinking that began in the 1980s. In November, Murphy Oil Corp. closed its New Orleans production office and shifted 100 employees to Houston. Chevron Corp. is building a new office across Lake Pontchartrain in St. Tammany Parish and will move 500 workers from New Orleans later this year.
Entergy Corp. was and likely will remain the city’s only Fortune 500 company, says Robert Hartwig, chief economist at the Insurance Information Institute.
“It’s unlikely that it’s going to emerge … as a major business center,” he says.
That means the city’s economy will muddle along, buoyed by short-term construction jobs and spending. For the economy to prosper long-term, the city must be seen as safe and well-run.
And there, the jury is out.
AP Writer Mary Foster in New Orleans also contributed to this story.
(Associated Press)
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Floodwaters from Hurricane Katrina fill the streets near downtown New Orleans in this Aug. 30, 2005, file photo. Despite billions of dollars in aid, recovery programs with catchy names and an outpouring of volunteer effort, two years later, much of New Orleans has still yet to recover from the fury of the storm. (AP photo/David J. Phillip, file) |
(Top) Beverlyn Landry talks about living in her damaged home in Gretna, La., on June 21, 2007. With her husband deceased, no homeowner’s or life insurance, and family members busy dealing with their own post-Hurricane Katrina recovery, the 60-year-old Landry finds herself struggling to live in the patched together dwelling. (AP photo/Alex Brandon)
(Bottom) An abandoned house in New Orleans’ Gentilly neighborhood on Aug. 5, 2007, nearly two years after Hurricane Katrina. (AP photo/Bill Haber) |
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