In New Orleans over spring break as part of volunteer program, I placed the water-warped children’s books and faded Christmas tree ornaments next to the folded up American flag and Mother Mary statue that were already piled on the floor, the only remnants of the family that used to live in a ravished New Orleans home.
During this trip, a group of 25 UCLA students and I saw the remnants of Hurricane Katrina, an event which many outside the area seem to have forgotten. As part of an alternative spring break program run by UCLA Hillel and the National Relief Network, we worked on houses in Saint Bernard Parish, New Orleans.
Along with students from UC Santa Barbara, Harvard, Stanford, the University of Delaware and Kent State University, we cleared out closets and attics, weeded, removed nails, and knocked down walls, repairing damage from the storm which occurred over a year and a half ago.
Visiting New Orleans, I was able to meet the people who lived through the storm, and help families that had lost their homes. I spoke to a judge, a retired navy diver, and many people that survived the storm.
Through these people, our group heard stories of their courage, hope and appreciation for volunteers, but also of their anger as they struggle to get money to rebuild, and their anger that the levees did not work properly.
“I’ve been at UCLA for nearly four years, taken classes, and learned about social injustice,” said Deseree Bohanan, a fourth-year sociology student. “But everything that I learned at UCLA does not compare to what I learned this short week. I feel like I learned a piece of truth that I could not have learned any other way than going to New Orleans.”
The first house we worked on was in an upper-class neighborhood that had row upon row of deserted brick buildings with broken windows, boarded doors and for-sale signs. Most houses still have the X on them from when they were searched, which contains the date, person who entered, and the number of bodies found in the house.
Out of the 60 families that once lived in this area, seven have returned, mostly living in trailers.
James and Patricia Desotell live in their trailer from FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, three doors away from what was our work site, on a now-vacant lot sitting where their house used to be.
Their young grandchildren slept in the trailer as James gutted a fish and Patricia worked on removing the glass and screws from the cement so it will be safe for her grandchildren to walk around. A yellow and white cat named Harry sat happily by the fish licking his lips, having been rescued by the Desotells when their neighbors said they would not take him when they evacuated.
Their house, which flooded with 10 feet of water, had to be demolished. They say they are waiting to see what will happen to the rest of the neighborhood. It is not worth it to rebuild now because house values have dropped so much.
“I don’t know what we are going to do. I’ve been down here all my life. I’m not going to be leaving my fishing home,” James said.
Working in this house I removed hundreds of nails, and also helped clean out the family’s closet and attic. I was given a glimpse into the family’s old life, I helped move Star Wars puzzles and a baby cradle from the attic, and threw away clothes that were now ruined.
We found a newspaper from 1969 when man landed on the moon, and a box of Mardi Gras beads.
While working on the house, John Sanborn approached us and offered us cold drinks. He is one of the few rebuilding his house down the street, having survived the storm by fleeing to the courthouse where he works as a judge.
He said he remembers the 400 people crowding in the second story, with their pets on the balcony and the sweltering heat and having no working restrooms.
Over the past year he said he has been battling the insurance companies, like many others, to get enough money to rebuild his home. He looked around at the deserted houses and explained why he has not left.
“I have lived in this community my whole life. I gave up my law practice and ran for judge. For me to go somewhere else, I would have to start over my life,” Sanborn said.
As many of us used construction tools for the first time, we were led by an experienced team from the National Relief Network, many of whom had their own history with the storm.
One of the volunteers we worked with, John Gholson, is a retired navy diver and a member of the board of directors of the National Relief Network. After Katrina he was asked to come because he was experienced in diving in hazardous materials.
After Katrina, he dove inside houses that were filled with water, feeling around for bodies and then looking for some sort of identification.
“My purpose was to recover as many bodies as possible to try to prevent the spread of disease,” he said.
He said he remembers these events vividly, but still comes back whenever he can to help rebuild homes, and enthusiastically led our group.
The second house I worked on had been occupied by renters who were therefore not eligible to receive benefits from the government, such as FEMA trailers, so they had relocated.
We took out massive weeds in the backyard and even worked together to move a boat that had ended up sideways on top of a fence.
In addition to working, we also took a tour of an “ungutted” house, meaning a house that has not been touched since the storm. Wearing all of our protective gear ““ helmets, glasses and face masks ““ we walked over furniture, clothes and books a family once treasured, now indistinguishable piles on the floor.
“It’s different when you see it on television. When you see it for yourself you are seeing the family that could have been living there, and all of their things destroyed,” Bohanan said.
E-mail Young at kyoung@media.ucla.edu.