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After Katrina, A Lonely Homecoming
(A.j. Sisco)
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"We were treated like criminals," Anna said.
It got worse when the appraisers came back and said their $130,000 house was worth $92,000. They haggled and months later got the figure up to $109,000. Then, at last, in April it came up to $130,000. Deducting the flood insurance they had, the program would yield them about $40,000.
More than four months later, they haven't seen a check. The paperwork is still being processed, they've been told.
"I'm furious at the process," Daniel said.
"I feel like I have aged 10 years," Anna said. "It's unbelievable how difficult this has been."
"We call it the Road to Nowhere," Daniel said.
'We Lost Everything All at Once'
When Mark Benfatti, an affable restaurateur who has left St. Bernard, mulls over what has happened to his life, he often thinks of "Gilligan's Island."
"You know, when the hurricane was coming, I packed for three days," he said. "And, just like Gilligan, I never got home."
Benfatti and his wife, Donna, like thousands of people from St. Bernard, have moved to one of the communities on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain.
Many of those who fled for the north shore find it more affluent but more impersonal, too, and Benfatti sorely missed seeing familiar faces.
So, earlier this month, he and his wife hosted a $25-a-head St. Bernard reunion party. After renting a hall and a band, they wondered if anyone would show up.
More than 750 people got tickets, filling the hall, and then the Benfattis closed the waiting list after it reached 50. The party was supposed to start at 8 p.m., but the parking lot began to fill at 7.
"If somebody dies, you miss that person. But you still got your job, you have your neighbors, you have your family," Benfatti said. "Here we lost everything all at once. We can never put back the community."
News assistant Jill F. Bartscht contributed to this report.
