The article is a fair summary of what is going on in Broadmoor right now, and the author interviewed the right people. But she missed an important fact touched on by one of the other commenters. Yes, this was a manmade disaster. And that is verified by the fact that Broadmoor was completely dry immediately after Katrina passed. It was only after the levees broke that the neighborhood went under.

Since early 2003, Broadmoor has been significantly protected against natural flooding from rains by virtue of the Southeast Louisiana Drainage Improvement Project, or SELA for short. Precisely because it is at the bottom of the bowl, the Army Corps of Engineers and the New Orleans Sewerage & Water Board poured tens of millions of dollars into pumping and drainage improvements throughout the neighborhood from 1998 to 2003. From personal observation (and hopefully, objective data, which I am in the process of collecting), SELA works like a charm. This has been left out of nearly every high-level conversation about the city, and I have no idea why. SELA amply demonstrates that local drainage solutions building on existing infrastructure can work just as effectively as abandoning a neighborhood and turning it into urban wetland (an idea which is just totally nuts).

With repair of the levees, extension of SELA (which will happen, since they've gotten over $225 million to spend) and coastal restoration, why should people be made to move out of Broadmoor? Otherwise, we might as well all move into concrete bunkers perched on 200 foot high pilings and be given a lifetime supply of bubble-wrap clothes.

By the way, I'm typing this from my family's house in Broadmoor right now, and so are many other people. And new people are moving into the neighborhood every day.

Also (and this is addressed to inside-the-beltway think-tank dope John McIlwain), we in Broadmoor are not saying, "The hell with you" to the city. As a matter of fact, we are looking at solutions that not only benefit our neighborhood, but the city at-large. It must be nice to be able to paint thousands of people with such broad strokes and not have to worry about what they are actually saying. Also, the plan as laid out by ULI and the city calls for neighborhood planning throughout the city, so I don't know what he's talking about when he says that neighborhoods are pulling against a citywide effort.

It's unfortunate that of all the banners and spray-painted messages one sees while driving through New Orleans, most of which are welcoming neighbors back and rallying support for one another, this is the one that was chosen by Salon.com to introduce this article. Yes, the proof is in the photo. There is no doubt that this phenomena occured in the immediate aftermath of the storm. Still, I'd was saddened that Salon.com failed to curbed the impulse to grab at a sensationalistic photograph and instead choosing one more appropriate to the story: How are we, as neighbors, coming together to make painful decisions about our city while trying to savor what is left? This article was not about looters.

For those who have read this article, please consider that you are reading about people organizing at the grass-roots level to put their neighborhoods back together. Is that not a positive trend? How else would one have New Orleanians cope? We are pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps.

Michelle Goldberg is getting close to the heart of what is occuring in New Orleans. Its residents are digging deep within themselves to find solutions and they are reaching out to their neighbors to decode a complex series of maps riddled with mysterious green spots. As time passes, these spots are becoming fewer in number and less ominous. As a member of a neighborhood association facing issues similar to Broadmoore,and a leaking levee break, I can assure all readers that New Orleanians ARE aware that tough decisions that must be made about what areas of their beloved neighborhoods are viable and safe to return to. Many of our neighborhoods will never be the same. We're grieving that loss. Parts of neighborhoods will be rebuilt more creatively. We're excited about that prospect.

I find myself asking many friends, who are not locals, this questions: What would have happened if Hurricane Andrew, which decimated Homestead, Florida, hit Miami as it was forecasted to? That wonderful city dodged a bullet and a small town was wiped out. Look no further than Biloxi, Waveland and Bay St. Louis, MS for your answer. Indeed, much of Miami would have been destroyed by an enormous tidal surge and the slabs of houses wiped clean, debris sucked back out into the Atlantic. Should residents all along any open body of water pick up and move 100 miles inland? Where water meets land there is danger. Period.

We make our homes where we are born. New Orleans, like NYC and SF and LA and Miami (and so many more) is a city for which one develops physical affection. My family has been here for over 100 years. My grandfather was the founding chancelor of the University of New Orleans, which was, by the way, the first public university in the South to integrate its student body. While my grandparents evacuated their home in Bay St. Louis as they were told to do they still spent several days asleep in the back of their jeep in 90 degree heat and defecating behind trees until we could locate them. Katrina was a disaster. Few were spared. Even those, like myself, who evacuated, have suffered immeasurable losses. The sadness is numbing.

New Orleans has opened its arms to the rest of the world during Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest and all months in between. It offers a taste of Europe in the USA. Its climate is sub-tropical; the neighborhoods are lush and wild parrots live in our palm trees. We smell Sweet Olive trees and Magnolias almost year round. Our port is enormously important. The Mississippi Delta is one of only a few left in the world. A significant portion of oil and natural gas comes from this region. We were a city before America was a nation.

Why the vitriolic mail from individuals who happen to have been born or have chosen to live elsewhere in America? Is the money needed to shore up our levees outrageous in comparison to what our federal government spends elsewhere, such as rebuilding wetlands in Iraq? I think not. And wetlands, by the way, are the Gulf Coasts FIRST natural line of defense against a strong hurricane.

Caroline

NOLA native and former NYC resident