LAKE CHARLES, La. (AP) — In a matter of hours last week, Hurricane Laura tore through the tire shop Layla Winbush’s family started just under a year ago, reducing most of it to rubble and scattering hundreds of tires across the lot. The storm also damaged her home, which now reeks of mold.
Federal and state officials are now on the ground to help residents with home repairs and hotel stays. But Winbush said she feels alone, particularly after seeing a video of President Donald Trump, who visited the area Saturday, joking with Gulf Coast officials that they could sell copies of his signature for $10,000.
“We can’t depend on the president. We can’t depend on nobody,” she said. “We’ll just take what we have and get it done.”
As evacuated Lake Charles residents began returning home, many worried that they wouldn’t have enough support from the both the federal and state governments as they face a rebuilding process certain to take several months, if not longer.
“We’re going to be working really, really hard on the power outages, on the water systems, on the housing,” he said at a news conference. “But none of this is going to be easy. It’s not going to happen as quickly as most people would like for sure.”
Crews were starting to take chain saws to fallen trees and patch roofs, but most homes in Lake Charles wrecked by the storm were still untouched. The Category 4 hurricane, which made landfall Thursday just south of Lake Charles near Cameron, Louisiana, before abating nearly 12 hours later, packed 150-mph (240-kph) winds and a storm surge that officials said was as high as 15 feet (4.5 meters) in some areas.
So far 18 deaths in Texas and Louisiana have been attributed to the storm; more than half of those people were killed by carbon monoxide poisoning from the unsafe operation of generators.
Many people in Lake Charles were still staying outside town, but James Townley said he would remain in his home, as he did during the storm.
The front of his trailer had been blown away, leaving a single toilet exposed to the elements.
Townley lay on a sofa in front of a fan — connected to a neighbor’s generator — circulating hot, humid air. The 56-year-old’s shirt was off, revealing scars from the open-heart surgery he had several years ago. He said he was out of medication for his heart and kidneys and had requested aid from FEMA — but not heard back.
“I’m just going to sit here and do what I can do,” he said. “Maybe I’ll make it, maybe I won’t.”
Driving the pickup was 53-year-old Patricia Mingo Lavergne. She was worried about how her home had fared, but also where everyone would sleep Sunday night. When Lavergne parked outside the house she shares with her husband, a duplex just north of the train tracks bisecting the city, several family members began to pray and wipe away tears.
The pecan tree that long shaded her front yard had cracked and fallen in front of the front door. Insulation had burst through the ceiling and fallen in tufts over one bedroom. In another room, she pulled out two drawers filled with neatly folded clothes saved for her daughter’s child, due in January. She wiped a mix of sweat and tears with her shirt.
“It’s frustrating,” she said. “I’ve already been going through a lot and this is a lot more on my shoulders.”
Winbush, 19, and her family were staying with relatives in Beaumont, Texas, over an hour’s drive away. Her mother, Monique Benjamin, stood with Winbush and two of her siblings in front of what was left of the tire shop.
Benjamin and Winbush stayed cheerful as they described all the services the shop offered and the successes they had building it. The business is insured.
“Even though we may cry in the restroom and wipe our faces later, we got to stay strong,” Benjamin said.
