New Orleans: two years after Katrina, life is still hard in 'the big easy'

Don Hubbard tried to convince his daughters to leave the family's New Orleans East home on the Sunday morning before Katrina hit. He described 20-foot tidal surges overtaking the 10-foot-ceiling home. The two women, who'd decided with a third sister to wait out the storm, were taken aback when their father then took his mother's and grandchildren's pictures off the wall.

"You'll be making the decision for more than you," Hubbard told his daughters. "I said, 'Picture yourself on the roof with no food or water and your children are with you.' I wanted them to be able to fend for themselves. The size of the hurricane was bigger than Lake Pontchartrain."

Hubbard drove to Memphis, which was filling up, and ultimately checked in at Union Station in St. Louis. His wife, Rose Hubbard, fortuitously grabbed the file of the family's important papers. Hubbard recalled telling her the accountants would have all of the pertinent information they might need, but she wasn't taking any chances.

When they returned to New Orleans after the hurricane, nothing about their lives would be the same.

WAITING TO COME HOME

The Hubbards' story mirrors thousands like it in New Orleans. Families torn apart, livelihoods threatened or destroyed, dreams shattered. More than 200,000 of the city's residents remain scattered across the U.S., many still wrestling with the question of whether to return home--and to what. Billions in subsidies have yet to be distributed, and a looming shortfall could swell the 57.5 million federally funded, state-run program. Thousands of homeowners hang in the balance awaiting the financial support that would enable them to repair their homes and rebuild their lives.

The federal government placed the state in charge of the distribution of funds, and the state hired ICF International, a private, Virginia-based contractor, to oversee the program. In addition to limited distribution, a $3 billion to $5 billion gap has been identified that the federal government thus far has not agreed to fill. The federal government blames the state for failing to differentiate between wind and water damage and for higher payouts than anticipated. The state blames the federal government for poor predictions on the number of homeowners to be served and on the amount of damage they would be compensated for. Still, the application pool grew by the hundreds each day as the July 31 deadline approached. On the last day in June, for example, 900 applications were completed. About 150,000 applications have been filed.

Some of Katrina's victims have found opportunities to grow their businesses in New Orleans and other parts of Louisiana. Others have been forced to sell or simply to walk away. Fortunately, many have found better situations in other parts of the country. Though weary, the Big Easy's resilience is apparent. But the question for post-Katrina New Orleans on the second anniversary of the deadliest natural disaster in American history is one of sustainability. Can this center of commerce on the Gulf of Mexico that still has some fight left re-establish itself as a world-class city?

In the midst of the uncertainty, there are outward signs that New Orleans continues to be a formidable American tourism destination. But while some of the annual rites have returned, it's still a struggle to boost the New Orleans economy. While Bourbon Street bustled on a recent Thursday night, even office buildings in the Central Business District remain shuttered. Famous and historic hotels like Le Pavilion, known for impeccable service and high premiums, continue to limp with low occupancy despite great deals. Surprisingly, hotel rates in the French Quarter are among the cheapest in the nation.

More than ever, New Orleans is a city of contrasts. An emerging high-end tourist district along Fulton Street complements the newly opened Harrah's hotel. While Harrah's casino boasts pre-Katrina revenue levels, the striking comparison is that before the hurricane, 60 percent of the revenue was generated from tourists. Now, 60 percent of the casino's revenue is generated locally.

Even more striking are the neighborhoods that still look as though the storm happened yesterday. Heavy downpours still result in flooded streets. Portions of what were once houses sit in fields in the Lower 9th Ward. Some streets look abandoned, except for the one house where flowers are planted. But people want to help, like business executives from Chicago who take the train down to spend vacation time rebuilding Habitat for Humanity and other homes.

SIGNS OF IMPROVEMENT

Everyone agrees that things are getting better. But few believe New Orleans will ever be the same. A cab driver picking up a fare at 3 p.m. on a weekday in June from the downtown train station tells a passenger that the short $11 ride is the first he's had all day. And he arrived at the station at 9 a.m. "No one's coming to New Orleans," he says.

Beneath the Southern hospitality and heartfelt thanks extended to guests, there are grave concerns about whether New Orleans truly can rebound. In spite of the police department's best efforts, crime appears to be overtaking the city. Public school education is a fraction of its former self. And there's a mental health crisis begging for attention.