MULTIMEDIA: See, hear survivors' stories PART 1: Life bleak or hopeful PART 2: The struggle to find loved ones PART 3: Spirit of community wiped out PART 4: Daily obstructions bog down life PART 5: Rebuild or demolish? HOUSTON: 100,000 displaced survivors NEIGHBORHOODS: Some areas irreparable? HEALTH: Mental health problems abound More Katrina anniversary coverage
NEW ORLEANS — For many, the decision about whether to rebuild damaged, waterlogged houses is on hold. Homeowners are waiting out this hurricane season or for final government rebuilding rules or to see if they qualify for a new federal grant program.
In the shattered town of Buras, south of New Orleans, fisherman Dewell Walker is almost paralyzed with indecision over whether to rebuild his gutted, lopsided home. He knows he could simply give it up to the junkyard.
"I've got people waiting around for me to say, `OK, I give up,'" Walker said. He estimates that hurricane-debris haulers would clear $10,000 for carting away his home.
Before the storm, Walker, 48, crabbed each season with his fleet of 11 boats. "Now I've got pieces of about six," he said.
Many, many others are soldiering on. The number of building permits issued in New Orleans since the storm is up to 38,594, according to Brookings' figures, although it's hard to know how many of those people are actively rebuilding.
In the downtown New Orleans building-permit office, it isn't unusual to see the line of permit seekers "wrap up and down the hallways," office clerk Olicier Hills said.
Homeowners face a controversial Aug. 29 deadline to clean, gut and board up their buildings or have them declared public nuisances. If they're named nuisances, officials then can take steps ranging from sanctions and liens to eminent domain and demolition.
Those who are rebuilding often go about it with a sense of mordant humor. They are, after all, rebuilding in a city that, whatever its charms, lies below sea level, protected only by a levee system that was too weak before Katrina and is a long way from being upgraded to withstand even more powerful storms.
From his back yard, Douglas Doyle, a lieutenant in a suburban sheriff's office, stood in the shadow of a massive 17th Street Canal levee wall that failed and caused some of the worst of Katrina's flooding. He pointed to the back wall of his house.
"I'm putting French doors in there, so at least I can see the water coming this time," he quipped.
The area's rebuilding is slowed by unprecedented demands on construction workers and the difficulty of making the city's homes higher off the ground than they once were. To continue to qualify for flood insurance, many people will have to jack up their homes a few to several feet.
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