After Katrina, Mother Holds Life Together For Children

By LINDSAY PETERSON The Tampa Tribune

Published: Jul 3, 2006

EDITOR'S NOTE: This story is part of an occasional series following four families uprooted by Hurricane Katrina who are trying to build new lives in the Tampa Bay area.

TAMPA - Dwan Landry sees the re-elected mayor and the federal officials on the news saying they want the displaced residents of New Orleans to come home. She's heard about their plans to rebuild and offer rent subsidies to lure low-income people back.

They would have to promise one more thing to get the 30-year-old to return, she said: "No more storms."

She's ready to go, she said, especially after spending 10 months in a Tampa public housing complex with bickering neighbors and children who come to her door when they can't find their mothers.

"I can't get used to this environment," she said.

She's even had an offer from Habitat for Humanity to help build a house in New Orleans for her and her four school-age children. But she can't do it, she said.

"I'm afraid. I'm just afraid."

Despite the threat of a hurricane hitting the Tampa Bay area, she feels safer here, knowing the conditions are different from below-sea-level New Orleans. She thinks the New Orleans' levees will fail again if another hurricane hits.

When the levees broke after Hurricane Katrina, Landry, her daughter, 14, and three sons, 7, 9 and 11, were forced out of their house in the Lower Ninth Ward. As the streets filled with water, it took the family seven hours to get across town to the safety of a medical center where Landry's brother worked.

Eventually Landry's sister brought the family to Tampa, where she has lived for five years. Landry began searching for a house or an apartment she could afford to rent on her Social Security disability income. In the end, all she could get was a unit at North Boulevard Homes, in West Tampa.

Public Housing Requires Adjustment

She had never lived in public housing before, always managing in New Orleans to find rentals within her budget. "There are good people here, but there's negativity, too," Landry said.

Her boys don't mind the complex, but her daughter, Arion, said she feels like a prisoner there. The concrete block walls seem to close in on her.

Children come to Landry's door, often attracted by the smells from her kitchen.

To keep herself busy, she cooks, not only for her children, but for the neighbors who bring food for her to cook for their families.

She browns pork chops with garlic powder and salt and pepper, then chops in some onion and bell pepper.

She makes ribs, jambalaya, fried chicken with gravy and red beans and rice.

"The smells make me feel like I'm at home," she said. "I can't find the seasonings and stuff I was used to in New Orleans, but that's all right. It still helps me feel better about being here."

When the neighborhood children peek through her door, she invites them inside for a plate of food. "They come and give me a big hug. I love that."

Unlikely Dreams

Arion dreams of going back to New Orleans, but her mother said she can't imagine that. "The city is gone. I know they're trying to rebuild, but it's never going to be the same."

Rents have tripled, she said. "I don't see that going down."

The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development announced last month plans to spend $154 million to rebuild the city's public housing, creating mixed-income neighborhoods of homes, stores and businesses.

That sounds nice, Landry said, but it's just a plan. "I'm not going to take my kids back there if I don't know we have a place to live."

Meanwhile, she'll stay in Tampa. She's looking into starting a small home business selling beauty products. Next week, she said, she has an appointment at Bank of America to talk about whether she could buy a house.

"I want to do better," she said. "I see some of the people around me, and I want to find something better. I want something better for my kids."

She'd never want to go through Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath again. But the experience, somehow, did her a bit of good. It made her a better mother, she said.

"It taught me I could lose everything. It taught me to hold onto my kids."

Reporter Lindsay Peterson can be reached at (813) 259-7834, or lpeterson@tamptrib.com