GAO noted that the Corps' rush to award contract

The Army Corps of Engineers followed federal rules when it awarded a contract to a politically connected manufacturer to provide pumps to this city after Hurricane Katrina, Congress' investigative arm said Thursday.

The Government Accountability Office reaffirmed findings it made in May after the Office of Special Counsel, an independent federal whistleblower agency, said in October that there was a ''substantial likelihood'' the Corps acted improperly in handling the contract.

The report was the latest look at the contract awarded in early 2006 to Moving Water Industries Corp. Corps officials in New Orleans installed the company's 34 pumps before the 2006 hurricane season despite allegations by Maria Garzino, the engineer who oversaw their installation, that the pumps would fail during a hurricane.

''The Corps' actions in awarding and administering the pumping system contract were generally in accordance with federal requirements,'' the new report said.

The GAO, however, noted that the Corps' rush to award the contract ''resulted in deficiencies in key contract provisions.''

The report said the agency performed ''limited market research,'' used specifications for the pumps very similar to MWI's and drafted a contract ''not written as precisely as it should have been.''

The pumps were plagued by numerous problems, including undersized gear oil circulation motors, vibrations and suspect pipe welds, resulting in a lower pumping capacity than expected, the GAO said.

In the future, the GAO said, the Corps should do a better job, even during emergencies, of following ''sound acquisition practices'' and making sure that a contract's criteria, such as testing requirements, are spelled out clearly.

The GAO also noted that although the pumps were deficient during the 2006 hurricane season, as of September 2007 the Corps said it had corrected flaws with the equipment and successfully tested the pumps for two hours each.

The Corps has added a new series of pumps on the canals built by different manufacturers to bolster pumping capacity. Corps officials declined to comment on the report.

William E. Bucknam, MWI's vice president and general counsel, said the report ''confirms the position we have taken all along that MWI did in fact deliver on this critical pump contract under extremely challenging circumstances and strict time constraints.''

MWI is owned by J. David Eller and his sons. Eller was once a business partner of former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush in a venture called Bush-El that marketed MWI pumps.

In the coming weeks, the Corps is expected to decide whether MWI should be awarded a $5 million bonus for delivering the pumps before June 1, 2006, or pay a penalty for late delivery of $1,700 per pump a day, the GAO said

Highway barriers being used to protect EJ levees, GREAT JOB!

Huge concrete traffic barriers have been pressed into service along the Lake Pontchartrain shoreline to help retard erosion in East Jefferson, where research shows more than 175 acres have been lost in the past 50 years.

Land loss is so severe in some spots, especially in Kenner, that the waterline is within 20 to 30 feet of hurricane protection levee toes and floodwalls, said Executive Director Fran Campbell of the East Jefferson Levee District.


Hundreds of the 3-ton highway barriers, each about 15 feet long and almost three tall, were put in place recently to slow land loss and to stabilize a new breakwater that will be built with some $10 million worth of rock, Campbell said. The rock will replace the breakwater that Hurricane Katrina destroyed on Aug. 29, 2005, just after the Levee District finished building it.

"I can't tell you how much protection we believe that rock provided our levees during the storm, and it's critical that we get it replaced," she said.

FEMA has agreed to pay for the rock.

Campbell anticipates that the Southeast Louisiana Flood Protection Authority-East, now starting its second year managing two levee districts east of the Mississippi River, will advertise early this year for an engineer to design the new breakwater.

In the meantime, Campbell has secured more than 1,000 traffic barriers from the state Department of Transportation and Development for erosion control structures along two sections of the lakefront.

The old "Jersey barriers," so named because they originated in New Jersey, are being replaced on road jobs with newer versions, said Mike Stack, state highway department chief in New Orleans.

"These barriers don't meet the new standards, so we're phasing them out for traffic control on all our highway projects," Stack said. "We can still use them to block ramps and such, but we have enough for that. Using them (on the lakefront) seems to be a good thing to do."

Over the past several months, the barriers have been lined up along the two sections of the East Jefferson shoreline. In Kenner, the barriers stretch along Reach 1 between the St. Charles Parish line and Duncan Canal, where Levee District research shows a land loss of more than 630 acres just west of Williams Boulevard.

Barriers also were placed between Causeway Boulevard and the New Orleans line, where Campbell said they can help protect land restoration work done by Levee District personnel in the past several months.

The breakwater that Katrina's storm surge washed away was built using mostly broken concrete generated when an old airport runway was removed and rebuilt. Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport donated the riprap to the Levee District.

The new breakwater will be built with more than 100,000 tons of rock, and FEMA guidelines require that the material be limited to replacing rock lost to Katrina. That means most of it will be used along levee Reach 4, between Causeway Boulevard and the Suburban Canal, and Reach 1 in Kenner.

The remaining 8,000 tons of FEMA rock will be distributed along the other three reaches of East Jefferson levee.

Campbell said the Levee District is coordinating its efforts with the Army Corps of Engineers to ensure that rock construction doesn't interfere with efforts to raise the lakefront levees.

She also hopes that a robust breakwater along the entire 11-mile East Jefferson lakefront ultimately will be incorporated into a major wetlands building and land reclamation project.

"We're doing what we have to now to get some additional protection and address erosion, but whatever we do out there will be something that we can build on," Campbell said. "And we hope everyone will be sitting around the same table to make sure that happens."

Homicides Soared in New Orleans in 2007

The bloodiest city in the country in 2006, reeling from crime in its struggle to recover from Hurricane Katrina, got even worse in 2007.

New Orleans registered 209 homicides last year, a nearly 30 percent increase from the 161 recorded in 2006.

The FBI's rankings for 2007 will not be out until much later in the year, but New Orleans' population is thought to be 295,450, which would mean a rate of about 71 homicides per 100,000 people.

Even the most generous population estimate in 2006 put the number of people in the city that year at 255,000. That meant a real homicide rate of 63.5 per 100,000 residents. To compare that number with some other notoriously bloody cities, the rate for Gary, Ind., was 48.3 and Detroit's was 47.1.

The killings are drug-related or retaliatory for the most part, police have said. The upswing comes despite continued patrols by the National Guard and state police and the addition of two new classes of police recruits in the past year.

But beefed-up policing efforts can only do so much, said Rafael Goyeneche, executive director of the Metropolitan Crime Commission of Greater New Orleans.

''The police and the criminal justice system is expected to clean up the mess, but they didn't create the mess,'' Goyeneche said. ''They aren't responsible for the social problems of the city, the failure of the school system, the degeneration of the family unit. And until the city does something to rectify those problems, crime and murder will continue to be a problem.''

There are hopeful signs, however, Goyeneche said, pointing to improved schools in the city since the 2005 storm, grass-roots efforts to tackle crime, and a growing effort to upgrade city life.

''This city is beginning to do some things that I've been waiting 25 years to see,'' Goyeneche said. ''I think there is a renewed sense of purpose; people are focused and demanding more than what was in play before Katrina hit.''

New York's and Chicago's 2007 homicide totals were the lowest in more than 40 years, and in Philadelphia, slayings dipped slightly after reaching a nine-year high in 2006. But in several other big cities, homicides increased, including in Atlanta, Miami, Dallas and Baltimore.

N.O. sees '08 as a tipping point in recovery

The way Mayor Ray Nagin sees it, 2008 is a tipping point in the recovery from Hurricane Katrina, the year a stronger, better New Orleans begins to rise in earnest from the ruins.

Residents want to believe. They look optimistically for construction crews, neighborhood investment and homecomings for neighbors still in exile 28 months after the storm. They also worry about housing, a crime wave sweeping the city and rising cost of living. Like the city itself, they are near a tipping point.

Carrey Britsch bought a home in hard-hit Lakeview, hoping to do her part for the recovery. But a friend living in New Mexico after the storm is put off by reports of bureaucratic foot-dragging and street violence, and questions whether returning makes sense.

"It's a make-or-break point, definitely," Britsch said at a Starbucks coffeehouse, where a painted line memorializes the watermark left by Katrina's flooding.

Janet Speyer, a University of New Orleans economist, puts it bluntly: "2008 is the year when the future of New Orleans is going to be determined."

Will it be a better city? Nagin believes so. After focusing on restoring services, stabilizing city finances and planning for the future, his administration is bracing for hundreds of millions of dollars in federal aid expected to bankroll neighborhood reconstruction.

New Orleans, the mayor recently told the City Council, is "getting ready to explode."

Unfolding events in 2008 will be telling.

Among them are public education reform, construction of affordable housing, rebuilding public infrastructure and attracting big bucks in corporate investment.

Then there is the emergence of new city leadership, and an almost unprecedented citizen demand for accountability of public officials.
In a racially polarized city struggling with post-storm reality, it won't be easy.

However, an early indicator came in December, when protests turned violent over plans to demolish public housing and build instead mixed-income developments.

The City Council, in perhaps the strongest political statement since Katrina, cast off racial voting lines of the past and unanimously voted for demolition.
"I don't know of a sign that's been more encouraging to me," said Elliott Stonecipher, a Shreveport analyst who has closely followed post-Katrina politics.

Stonecipher believes it probably will be about the time of the city's tricentennial — 2018 — before anyone can definitively say "this is the New Orleans that rose from the storm."

There are signs it is beginning. An estimated two-thirds of the population is back, some neighborhood business districts, such as in Lakeview, are busy and the hospitality-based economy is hosting major events, such as the BCS football championship Jan. 7.

While only about 10 percent of the population has returned to the impoverished Lower 9th Ward, rebuilding efforts such as one led by actor Brad Pitt hold promise.

"I know this kind of progress will take time, bricks and mortar take a long time, and emotions take a long time to heal, and those are the kinds of things you can't hurry," said Laura LeBon, who's renting an apartment until her home is repaired.

The recovery has been a fragile, emotion-wrenching one. Besides dealing with red-tape clogged bureaucracy, another murder or the upbeat dedication of a walking trail can create thousands of personal tipping points.

For resident Karen Gadbois, an indicator came at Christmas. The fewer lights decorating homes in her neighborhood could have signaled a mood shift.
"I would say last year there was a greater sense of urgency, with this idea that we were on the cusp of change," she said. Now, "I think there is less optimism, and more resignation."

That could change if success is achieved in long-standing problems such as education and an economy with limited opportunity.

Recovery School District Superintendent Paul Vallas, who took over in summer 2007, has embarked on a two-year reform plan. He believes strategic shifts — such as industry-based instruction to prepare students for the workplace — can turn New Orleans into a national model for public education.

"If I can't lay a foundation in two years," he said, "they need to get someone else in here."

Eastern New Orleans resident Lisa Stafford knows change won't happen overnight. She just wants more signs it's under way in an area where many homes still stand gutted.

Stafford's personal benchmark is economic: redevelopment of a huge former shopping center, at one time a center of community life. If it happens, she believes former residents of an area anchored by the city's black middle class will come home.

"There are still a lot of people sitting back, waiting, trying to see what's going to happen before they make those final commitments on whether to rebuild their homes," she said. "I think it will make a big difference to people if they saw the city had faith in their area."

UNO's Speyrer suggests the city must step up its sales pitch to lure more private investment and jobs. The city needs to abandon the "Katrina mentality, that other people are going to help us and give us the money we need, and I think we have to start moving toward doing things ourselves," she said. A proposal for a public-private economic development partnership offers hope, though past similar attempts have yielded only modest success.

As the new year begins, Gadbois has not decided whether to stay in the work-in-progress city when her daughter graduates high school.

"Right now," she said, "leaving New Orleans feels like dropping the book halfway through, and it's a really good book. I wouldn't want to stop this story right now."

A Streetcar of Solace Is Back in New Orleans

NEW ORLEANS — Like the rolling tide to seacoast residents, the low rumbling of the streetcar is a nearly internal sound for citizens here, its absence since Hurricane Katrina a painful reminder of civic ill health.

The return in recent weeks of the distinctly urban noise of grinding wheels and brakes to St. Charles Avenue, with the near completion of post-hurricane repairs, has been an occasion for joy and not because, as boosters would have it, one more tourism feather has been added to the city’s cap.

The St. Charles streetcar line is that most valued local commodity, an unbroken link to the past: the same green tin boxes rocking at the same slow speed down the same tree-shaded avenue, unchanged since the early 1920s. Only a week ago, a crucial part of the St. Charles line, from Napoleon Avenue to Carrollton Avenue, was restored; other less damaged but less historic lines, along the Mississippi River and Canal Street, have operated for months.

But it is the line that connects Uptown to downtown and the French Quarter, via St. Charles and Carondelet Street, that is the city’s living, though wayward, artery. The satisfaction is huge.

“It’s all very, very much the way it’s been, for a very long time,” said Robert Michiels, a shipbuilding engineer who paid $1.25 to ride it the other day, just for the pleasure of riding it again, down the avenue.

The streetcar has represented something else besides the connections through time and space: the city’s living room, a privileged spot for tentative social encounters across lines of race, class and nationality, in a place not otherwise given to them. Thanks to an accelerated repair schedule, that meeting place, absent since the hurricane, is back.

But that raises a question: will there still be people for it in a city missing much of its population? Less than a quarter of prestorm riders are using the transit system, buses included. On a recent morning, tourists in town for a football game packed the streetcar going Uptown. But going downtown, in the direction of the jobs, the old wooden benches were sparsely filled: a maintenance man here, a construction worker there, a housewife or two and the odd professional.

Before the storm, the St. Charles streetcar was at least an image of the social ideal. Uptown lawyers in seersucker sat by weary-looking housekeepers going to the downtown hotels. Noisy schoolchildren jostled for space with tourists from France, Rome and Australia wondering about the solemn fellow on the column at Lee Circle. (That would be Robert E. Lee.) Prim suburbanites visiting from Nashville and Atlanta, and encountering public transportation for the first time, smiled nervously past muttering bums. No other city in the South entertained such a mix.

In the worn wooden interior, bathed in the smell of sulfur and the soothing racket of clanging machinery, the fractures in the stratified city melted, slightly. And what would be deficiencies in other places — improbable premodern slowness, the occasional surly conductor, unexplained lengthy halts between stops — were virtues. The conductor sang out, ingeniously mispronounced, the names of the Greek muses that double as street names here: MEL-Po-MEEN! (Melpomene) TER-Chicoree!(Terpsichore) You were getting somewhere, slowly. Complicated reading could be accomplished.

Excellent, as a rider named Cherry Gardon put it the other day, “if you’re not in a rush to get to work” — a widely held ethic.

Now, the St. Charles line has about half its daily prestorm ridership of 10,000, transit officials say. It remains distinctly, though recognizably, a shadow of its former self.

Still, for those who have come back, the memory of the old social model remains powerful. “The streetcar is not just something convenient,” said Manuel García-Castellón, riding it recently to his job as a professor of romance languages at the University of New Orleans.

He struggled to explain why something so irrational could also be so indispensable. “Sometimes, I think I’m in the salotto of my house,” he said, using the Italian word for parlor.

In July and August, the streetcar effects a miracle: benign contact with the superheated New Orleans air. All the windows come down, the sweet, thick air rushes in, and you are in a truce with the beast of the South Louisiana summer.

The streetcar’s reconquest of St. Charles Avenue after Hurricane Katrina has been fitful. The storm sent the avenue’s old oak trees crashing down on the dense network of overhead electric lines that power the cars, destroying nearly 13.5 miles’ worth. These had to be painstakingly rebuilt; one section on Carrollton of just over a mile, between St. Charles and Claiborne Avenues, remains out.

About eight of the 1923-24 cars are operating along the line, compared with 15 to 18 before the storm. “Our ridership base — many, many of those people — are not back in the city,” said Rosalind Blanco Cook, a spokeswoman for the transit agency, who added that officials were nonetheless pleased at the turnout on the St. Charles line.

Like other elements that have struggled to come back, this one — in the telling of the riders, at least — has an intimate connection with the biographies of everyone who is asked about it.

“Me, personally, I been taking it all my life,” said Derek Batiste, who was going to his job at Wendy’s. “I took it to school, that’s how long I been taking it. Not just for tourists, no. The streetcar, it’s like part of my family.” A computer technician, Samps Taylor, savoring his ride, said, “It brings it back to where you were.”

In other places, citizens move on, leaving the historic artifacts people here believe make up the urban fabric. The ties are personal. Past proposals to build new cars for the line have been vehemently rejected.

“Whole lot of history,” said Henry Carter, riding the streetcar to a construction job. “I been catching this streetcar since ’69. Been catching it a long time.”