Hurricane Katrina: End of rent help is a disaster for many

Displaced by storm, they scramble to stay afloat

7 February 2009
By Katy Reckdahl

As a longstanding disaster rent subsidy ends this month, thousands of families might be unable to pay their March rent.

Among them is a nursing assistant from Algiers who just got laid off, a Gentilly homeowner who works with the homeless and now fears he could join their ranks, and a disabled St. Bernard Parish man who worked with oil for decades until the fumes scrambled his nervous system.

The federal Disaster Housing Assistance Program, known as DHAP, will no longer pay rent for nearly 15,000 New Orleans-area households and thousands of other families displaced by Katrina, including more than 5,000 in the Houston area. "We don't know what we're going to do. I guess we're going to have to become a burden to our children," said Charles Ricord, the disabled man from St. Bernard.

On the Bush administration's last day, federal housing officials refused to continue the program. The Louisiana Recovery Authority and Sen. Mary Landrieu, D-La., are pushing for a one-year extension, arguing that New Orleans still faces an acute affordable-housing shortage and that thousands of Louisiana homeowners still await Road Home money.

In a recent letter to President Barack Obama, Landrieu wrote: "It would be remiss of the federal government to infuse hundreds of billions of dollars into the economy . . . while we terminate a program housing more than 30,000 people in a region struggling to restore its affordable housing stock."

As many as 80 percent of DHAP tenants might be eligible for permanent Section 8 rental assistance because they're elderly, disabled or impoverished, according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, which administers the program. But only 300 of the area's 15,000 affected households secured vouchers by this week, officials said. Many renters interviewed for this story didn't know they were eligible.

HUD, along with the Housing Authority of New Orleans, has beefed up the staff for its toll-free phone line, 866.202.3487. The agency can handle as many as 150 appointments a day in the office and more through teams that make home visits, said Dwayne Muhammad of HANO. "Get in here and we'll see you on the spot," he said.

Still, the sheer number of vouchers at stake might make the task impossible, with three weeks left and Mardi Gras approaching, observers say -- especially since disabled and elderly renters are apt to need more time and help.

Even renters who emerge with vouchers have more work to do. If their landlords accept vouchers, HANO still must inspect each unit and sign a contract, which usually takes at least two weeks.

--- 'We don't want to unpack' ---

Charles and Cynthia Ricord moved into a house near the Murphy Oil plant in July, supported by DHAP, since their only income is his $637 monthly disability check. On one wall are family photos. All else remains in boxes.

"We don't want to unpack," he said. "We don't know when we'll be moving again."

Many tenants who remain on DHAP could be called the neediest of the needy, because the program took in the last Katrina holdouts living in hotels and in FEMA trailers. For some, the past three years have been a turbulent sequence of moves between temporary homes, made worse by illness, depression, meager resources and shattered support networks.

The Ricords, who ran a successful but uninsured oil recycling business before Katrina, lived in Texas and Mississippi motels before returning to St. Bernard. They've stayed inside a tent, a garage, a FEMA trailer and an apartment where sewage ran under the floor.

They had begun to repair the home they lived in before Katrina, making payments on it as part of a lease-to-own deal. But last year, their landlord evicted them without explanation, they said.

The house was across the pasture from where they grew up as neighbors, before her rheumatoid arthritis made it hard to fold laundry and before he was diagnosed with nerve damage that causes him to clench his fists in pain, even when he's taking painkillers. "It seems like a lifetime ago," he said.

--- No one is hiring ---

D'Antionette Johnson got the call from her supervisor on Wednesday, and her heart sank. Her employer had laid off a group of people, including her.

She has been trying to land a job as a nursing assistant. But few, if any, are hiring, she said.

After Katrina, a helicopter rescued Johnson, clutching her toddler daughters, from a roof in the Lower 9th Ward, where she had rented a one-bedroom apartment for $150 a month. They began a nomadic life, mostly following relatives who can keep her daughters while she works.

Before her apartment in Algiers, the family lived with an aunt in Baton Rouge, cousins in Houston, and in three different places in New Orleans.

Her girls -- Darreion Johnson, 9, and Laureion Johnson, 8 -- have now attended nearby Harriet Tubman Elementary School since March, their longest stay in the same place since the storm, she said. She hopes to get help there for her younger daughter, whose sweet disposition changed after the storm.

Lately, Johnson has earned about $800 a month, the same amount DHAP paid for her apartment. Inside, there's almost no furniture except a flowered couch, salvaged from the street. The girls sleep on the couch, Johnson on the floor.

Johnson graduated atop her high school class, got her nursing assistant's certificate when she was 19, and has always worked hard to provide for her children, she said.

She hopes to pay her own rent again, she said. But not by March 1. "I can do it if I have a little more time," she said.

--- 'I have to make a decision' ---

Last fall, FEMA relocated Clarence White from the trailer he had set up in front of his Gentilly house, citing potential formaldehyde exposure.

He's now in an apartment, paid for by DHAP, in the Irish Channel. But the house he owns is only half rebuilt because of Road Home delays, a bad contractor and the incessant demands of his job as a caseworker for the homeless.

White helped house hundreds of people from the city's homeless encampments at Duncan Plaza and underneath the Claiborne Avenue overpass. Most of his monthly salary goes toward his $1,200 mortgage, utilities and other bills.

But DHAP renters who aren't elderly or disabled can get vouchers only if their income is less than 30 percent of the area's median income. Even White's modest paycheck exceeds the threshold of $12,550 a year for a single person.

By the end of this month, I have to make a decision," he said. Right now, he's leaning toward living with relatives in Baton Rouge and commuting.

White spends every day working with people who live precariously. He and other caseworkers say thousands of homeless people squat in houses that lack electricity or plumbing.

Only his family saves him from that fate, he said.

--- Not so wonderful ---

The Ricords still hope to get a voucher by March 1, with the help of a New Orleans Legal Assistance lawyer. But they aren't sure their landlord will accept it.

The two flip through a photo album they brought when they evacuated on Aug. 28, 2005. Pictures show the family clowning on its boat, Mr. Mac. They're smiling, playing horseshoes and volleyball, boiling crawfish. "It's like we're in the movie 'It's a Wonderful Life,' " said Charles Ricord.

But in this version, no angel appears to give them the good part back, he said.

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