Katrina brought her to Wilmington, but NOLA beckons still

WILMINGTON -- In a moment that illustrated the desperation of thousands left homeless in the wake of Hurricane Katrina a decade ago -- a distraught Lee Ann Bemboom held her lethargic and overheated baby in her arms and railed into a TV news camera about the circumstances.

“This is not about low income. This is not about rich people, poor people. It's about people,” Bemboom sobbed, her image broadcast into countless homes around the world.

Bemboom, now living in Wilmington, was among the masses outside the convention center in New Orleans, one of thousands of residents whose lives were washed away by a hurricane that wreaked havoc on an inadequate levee surrounding the Big Easy. People trapped in the flood waters begged for weeks for help. While the government hemmed and hawed about protocols, regular people heeded the call.

Katrina was one of the nation's five deadliest hurricanes on record, with 1,245 people killed in the storm and subsequent floods. Property damage topped $100 billion.

When it made landfall on the Louisiana coast Aug. 29, 2005, the U.S. was woefully unprepared for what was to come. The storm surge brought destruction from central Florida to Texas. But the most deaths were seen in Louisiana when, hours after the storm had passed, flood waters overcame the levees. Eighty-percent of the city was underwater. People died in their homes, others died evacuating, more died waiting for rescue. The floodwaters, contaminated by decaying flesh and disease, lingered for weeks. When the opportunity to leave finally came, the people - hungry, sick and heartbroken after days in deplorable conditions - left in droves.

Katrina changed the landscape of many communities across America. Towns from Maine to Southern California offered shelter to evacuees.

More than 800 of those families made their way to Wilmington, said Annie Anthony of the Cape Fear Volunteer Center. Her then-newly minted group worked to help those families find homes and resources.

Anthony said in the weeks and months after the storm, as Louisiana families found their way into the Port City, the community pitched in to help.

“So many people were willing to give anything they had. They donated houses and mobile homes and cars. All the different hotels offered rooms. Restaurants gave certificates for people to eat,” Anthony said. “The giving was tremendous.”

Anthony said no local group arranged for the displaced families to come here, but when they did come, Wilmington took them in with open arms. Because the migration wasn't organized, an exact number on how many Katrina survivors are still in Wilmington is hard to come by, she said.

Bemboom's ticket out of New Orleans came when her Wilmington-based aunt, Charlotte Hackman,saw her haunting photo in the StarNews. The then-37-year-old mother was gripping a limp 11-month-old Jahon in her arms. Hickman hadn't seen her niece in 20 years, but the family resemblance was unmistakable.

Hackman sent out messages across the Internet until someone finally found Bemboom in an Addis, La., shelter. With the invitation from her family as a catalyst, Bemboom brought her baby to Wilmington 10 year ago. Here is where she's stayed.

While she's often thought of the city she left behind, she said, the money is never available to return. And she has Jahon's well being to think about. They've grown attached to the family here, Bemboom said. She still gets help from them.

Jahon, now a healthy 10-year-old, started his fifth-grade year at Sunset Park Elementary School this week.

"I'd really like to go back someday. I want him to see where he came from," she said. "Someday we will."