Heart of Orleans still broken

PETER Badie, 81, lived in the same house in New Orleans for more than 50 years. But these days, like so many others from this catastrophe-crippled city, he has had trouble finding the road home.

The jazz musician, who played with greats such as Dizzy Gillespie and Sam Cooke, gazes across the wrecked street he once knew like the back of his hand and says: "That's 52 years I've been here and I don't know my own neighbourhood any more."

As the city prepares to mark the first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina and the flood that swallowed 80 per cent of its expanse, less than half of the 450,000 people of Orleans parish - which forms the core of the city - have returned. Many have made new lives in states such as Texas, Georgia, Alabama and Arkansas, unable or unwilling to face the logistical, financial and emotional hurdles associated with trying to rebuild here.

The Lower Ninth Ward, a majority black neighbourhood where Mr Badie's bungalow was submerged for weeks and is now condemned, has the air of an abandoned Wild West town.

There are houses full of debris and river sludge, pylons leaning at odd angles, power lines dangling, mud-stained sofas, mattresses, clothes and toys lying wherever the flood washed them.

There is no electricity, mains water, phone service or schools. The only sounds are the buzz of crickets and the occasional crunch of debris being cleared by contractors. There is little traffic to halt at junction "Stop" signs. The only green shoots of recovery are the weeds snaking through the remains of this formerly energetic community.

On the other side of the city, Lake View - a more affluent, majority white neighbourhood which suffered flooding on a similar scale - is also still devastated. But there are pockets of recovery: new houses have sprung up, fronted by neatly-mowed lawns and flowerbeds, and on every street there is activity - roofs being fixed, debris being hauled out, demolition work under way. "Oh yes, Lake View is back isn't it?" shouts Mr Badie. "Money's got a lot to do with it, but you can put race in there too."

With whole buildings swept away and streets left disfigured, teams equipped with global positioning satellite technology were drafted in to the Lower Ninth Ward to identify which plot is which, so at least the empty foundation slabs could be given addresses. Calvin Diaz, a postman, follows numbers spray-painted on the ground. He formerly covered 8,000 or so homes, but now delivers to just 300 - those still occupied, or at least visited by owners.

He and his wife evacuated to San Antonio, Texas, but he had to return to New Orleans to work six more months with the US Postal Service before he can retire. "After that, you can keep this place. I've had enough," says Mr Diaz, who is lodging with friends and will rejoin his wife in the new year.

The Federal Emergency Management Agency has spent $5.1 billion (£2.7 billion) throughout Louisiana to assist the recovery and the insurance industry has paid $15.5 billion to homeowners there and in the neighbouring state of Mississippi. But financial wrangles remain and lawyers are working frantically on behalf of thousands of residents to file lawsuits against intransigent insurance companies by Tuesday - the first anniversary of Katrina, when the statute of limitations expires.

"People have been given the impression all along by their insurance companies that things would be resolved, but they didn't come through so now people are scrambling to protect their rights," said John Paul Massicot, a lawyer. "My gut feeling is insurers are counting on a large percentage of people giving up out of exhaustion and frustration."

The suicide rate has tripled since Katrina and doctors report an "epidemic" of depression and anxiety-related illnesses. "For the people of New Orleans, there's no 'post' in post-traumatic stress disorder," says Father Jim Deshotels, a Jesuit priest and family nurse practitioner.

A year later, Katrina victims remain unidentified

SEALED in coffins in an air-conditioned warehouse, or zipped inside body bags and stacked in a refrigerated truck, the remains of 49 people who died in Louisiana - most in New Orleans - remain unidentified.

DNA tests, dental records, fingerprints, public appeals and searches of missing persons lists have failed to come up with clues as to who they are and where their families might be.

More than 20 bodies were found - some as recently as June - during searches of flooded properties.

The locations in which the victims were discovered are not always helpful clues, say investigators, because of drifting caused by floodwaters.