On his first day, "I made new friends – five of them," says Kendell (with his sisters and academic trophies from past years). "It was impressive inside." Photo by: YUNGHI KIM
Kendell Goes Back To School
Last summer, a crew of 500 volunteers from Common Ground, some wearing white Hazmat suits with the words "Open This School" painted on the back, began demolition. Hicks says that her lowest point came on Sept. 6, 2006, when students gathered on the steps of the dilapidated Colton Middle School, where, for time being, she had hoped to set up classes. On that day, despite her best efforts, the temporary school was uninhabitable – mold-covered and filled with stench from rot and clogged toilets. "I remember the faces of those kids," she says. "They were getting their assignments outside, cars passing by. The little girls were all dressed up with their ribbons, ready for school. And I could not provide a roof."

Two weeks later, Hicks managed to open classes in a borrowed elementary school on Willow Street that had only stood in waist-deep water. Meanwhile, across town, crews began rebuilding Martin Luther King, including an adjoining public library and room for community events. Finally, this past June 10, with yellow streamers draped around its entrance pillars and a fanfare by the Original Pinstripe Brass Band and New Orleans's Zulu Walking Warriors, the new school was rededicated before a standing-room crowd of more than 650 parents, students and dignitaries, many wearing "MLK Dream Team" T-shirts. "This school can serve as a beacon," says Rob Logan, director of charter schools for the Recovery School District, looking back on the long reconstruction project, "and Doris Hicks was the one who went to the mountaintop and rang the bell."

On a warm summer morning, the three youngest Lewis-Robertson kids are bouncing around their cramped FEMA trailer as their mom cooks a breakfast of turkey and scrambled eggs on a tiny gas stove. Kendell packs his food onto a slice of white Bunny Bread, carefully folds it and then pours syrup on each bite of his creation. "I don't even know what he's doing," says Tanya with a sigh. "He loves the syrup."

The family has made little headway? rebuilding their old house. With no insurance to cover their losses, Joe and Tanya are hacking through paperwork, including four title searches and mountains of applications for federal recovery funds. Outside their cramped quarters – Tanya and their three youngest sleep in one trailer, Joe and the oldest, Larry ,in the other – Kendell says he sometimes feels sad on the quiet streets of the old neighborhood. "I didn't know any people that died," he says, "but you see all the damages and you know some people did."