A Commonality of Suffering Binds Suburb, New Orleans

Whatever their differences, the two jurisdictions are joined by pain and destruction, and it will take years for them to recover. Just as New Orleans leaders had trouble keeping things together, so does St. Bernard. Menesses, for instance, wonders how Vancouver was able to send 50 people to help, while the National Guard provided 15.

Don't even mention FEMA. "These guys have not been doing anything," he said, noting that officers have been working 18-hour days. "We pushed them to the limit, and they're breaking down. They're deserting."

Even though things look bleak, residents are vowing to stay and rebuild. Many residents refused to leave flooded homes as a FEMA-sponsored rescue team from Memphis went door to door. "Tell them it's their last chance," said Mike Pohl, the search manager.

Leaving wasn't on Andrew Sylvester's mind. He rode out the storm in New Orleans's devastated Ninth Ward. He caught a ride back home Saturday. He had nowhere else to go. And Sunday, he said, was a good a time as any to come back.

"Whoever stayed here died because that water was high," he said turning his attention to the task ahead. Mud stuck to his feet, the street and every house in sight.

"This mud is a problem; the government is going to have to do something about that."

Stories of heroics abound. Commercial fisherman Ricky Raymond Robin, 51, said he and his crew members rescued 250 people, and he is upset that government officials have refused to bring him and some relatives fresh water while things are getting fixed. Jim Pitre and Robert Rapp, who sent their families away, say they have plucked the same number from the raging waters.

They have no intention of leaving. "My ancestors were shipwrecked and walked to this place in the early 1700s," Robin said. "We're used to this."