New Orleans: an unfinished story

A Reporter’s Notebook by Jeanne Straus The red X’s spray-painted on the front door of every house along this street in New Orleans means that this building, which once was someone’s home, has been searched for bodies. At the top of the red X is the date the search was conducted. To the left are the two initials of the state from which the search and rescue team hailed. And at the bottom is the number of dead found in that house. Ten months after the levees broke and the searches were conducted, a group of publishers, including Jeanne Straus, president of this newspaper, traveled to New Orleans for a press association board meeting. They found the area destroyed by water and mold went on block after block after block. In conversations, several people pointedly referred to the destruction of the 200,000 homes in New Orleans as the “greatest man-made disaster in U.S. history,” a jab at the Army Corps of Engineers’ responsibility for the levees breaking. The $4.2 billion aid package the federal government passed last week should help some. Much of that money is earmarked to “make people whole” who had hurricane insurance, but not flood insurance. The government determined which parts of New Orleans were prone to floods during hurricane season and required those homeowners to carry flood insurance. But when the levees broke, many neighborhoods not in danger of flooding were swamped. Almost as striking as the extent of the devastation is the pluck of people and what one local columnist referred to as the “spirit of place.” Despite the loss of so much, people are starting over again, deciding to stay and trying to rebuild. Dan Shea, the managing editor of The New Orleans Times Picayune, lives with his wife and two daughters on the second floor of his house because his first floor was wiped out. His kitchen and dining room are parked on his front lawn in the 300-square-foot trailer issued by FEMA. Shea, who previously worked at the Bergen Record, is staying in New Orleans. “I’ve got my back up now,” he said. “I’m not leaving.” Since January, Times Picayune staffers have gathered on many Saturday mornings to help “de-muck” each others’ homes. On June 18, New York-area publishers joined them in throwing out everything in one staffer’s home - the beds and couches, the rugs, the clothes, the children’s toys, the china, the appliances. All had been destroyed by mold. Once they had emptied the house, the publishers started knocking down sheetrock and pulling up floor boards. By mid-day, all that remained of one family’s possessions was the stench of mold and exposed studs.