It has been nearly four years since Hurricane Katrina scoured the beaches of Gulfport and Biloxi, Mississippi, and flooded the low-lying neighborhoods of New Orleans. But recovery is still far from complete — and for some storm victims still living in "temporary" housing, the end is not in sight. The Washington Post covered the Katrina aftermath story on June 13th (" Permanence Eludes Some Katrina Victims," by Spencer S. Hsu). Bureaucracy is partly to blame for a backlog of applicants for rebuilding assistance, even as federal subsidies lie unspent, says the Post. Emblematic of the problem is the sight of dozens of Katrina Cottages, small homes developed as a temporary housing solution, still lined up in rows on a storage lot in Mississippi, and never deployed or occupied — even as displaced elderly residents struggle with life in small trailers. The Washington Post supplements the “Permanence” article with a photo gallery. As summer approached, so did a May 31 deadline for aid recipients to vacate their FEMA trailers. But as the date approached, Obama administration officials announced a reprieve, and an offer to sell the trailers to their occupants for $5 apiece, reported the New York Times (" Katrina Victims Will Not Have to Vacate Trailers," by Shaila Dawan). But with this fall's hurricane season already underway, nearly 48 months after Katrina and Rita made landfall, the decision still leaves thousands of displaced people with no permanent homes — and, seemingly, no strategy for solving the problem. And on July 8, Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Inspector General told a Congressional hearing that when the next storm comes, FEMA still has no workable plan to re-house displaced storm victims (" Watchdog: FEMA still lacks housing plan," by Ben Evans). But for the latest crop of displaced people — the victims of Ike — temporary living has turned out not to be so bad, according to the Wall Street Journal (" RVs Become Home for Many in Texas Region Hit by Ike," by Tom Benning). One elderly resident, whose rented RV is parked on the Bolivar Peninsula lot where her home once stood, told the Journal, ""I'd rather be here in a trailer than in a mansion in the city."
