In New Orleans, fearing further loss

NEW ORLEANS — Nearly four years after Hurricane Katrina, it is the worry that will not fade, complicating the rebuilding of New Orleans and defining and reflecting this fragile city's racial divisions.

Call it the fear of a shrunken city.

Immediately after the storm, many residents, often African Americans, worried that low-lying flood-ravaged neighborhoods would be left unbuilt and turned into wetlands. Though that possibility has diminished, one fear won't dissipate: that those same areas may wither as a result of restrictive zoning changes or a waning commitment to rebuilding in certain parts of town.

It's the issue that tugs at New Orleans resident R.C. Brock, 68, more than the threat of another flood, even with the rapid approach of hurricane season. Brock is building a replacement home on a Lower 9th Ward block where water once covered the rooftops.

"We ask the question all the time: 'What are y'all doing for us in this neck of the woods?' " said Brock, whose new four-bedroom cottage is being erected in a battered landscape of empty lots and empty, flooded-out houses. "We can't get streetlights down here. We got holes in the street."

The sentiment is echoed across the city in neighborhoods that have yet to see the return of schools, parks and other government services. And though it is not felt solely by blacks, the issue has taken on a distinct racial dimension.

Since Katrina, whites have gained more political power here, helping elect the first white-majority City Council since 1985. Historically, many of the city's white elite have lived in high-ground neighborhoods that were not badly flooded. And a recent poll shows that a majority of white voters do not support rebuilding some vulnerable areas.

The result, among many African Americans, has been a "justifiable paranoia" that parts of the city will be left to languish, said Mtumishi St. Julien, director of the Finance Authority of New Orleans and a resident of the battered New Orleans East area.

That paranoia, he said, stems from "a historical legacy of privilege, which seems to be heavily based on race."

The fear has also complicated the fate of the city's proposed master plan, the much-anticipated document that will guide the city's post-storm redevelopment for the next two decades. In November, a citywide vote was required to give the plan the force of law.