You're On Your Own

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The Corps' standard line of defense in answering critics is that the levees around New Orleans will be "better and stronger" than they were before Katrina and that Congress has not authorized an all-out rebuilding of the entire system. Setliff believes the system is generally capable of handling a slow-moving Category 2 or a fast Category 3. "We know we're making important decisions [that affect] people's livelihoods. We are their engineers. But Congress tells us how to build," he says, refusing to address criticisms that the Corps should be more proactive. People in New Orleans "should know the chances of a catastrophic failure are significantly reduced," says Setliff. "They also need to know there's a risk."

Finding out about the risk is often tricky. Mechanical engineer Matt McBride and eye doctor Joe Thompson turned into part-time detectives to see what was going on with the pumping system that keeps the "bowl" New Orleans sits in dry. Thompson, 42, went snooping at local Pump Station No. 1, inviting himself in for a tour (so much for security). He soon found that five of the station's seven pumps had been submerged by post-Katrina floodwaters. One, turned on after the waters receded, caught fire. He got a similar report at Pump Station No. 6: six of nine pumps were submerged, and three later caught fire. The Corps last week outlined $40 million in work needed to repair more than 60 city pumps, a number of them made at the beginning of the 20th century. But the process takes so much time--35 days--that the repair work won't be finished until fall, toward the end of the storm season.

In investigating the fires, Thompson and McBride realized that the city was--revise that: is--losing its ability to pump water out. "If there's not enough pumping power and they close the new floodgates at the end of the drainage canal, that means water is going to back up into the neighborhood," says McBride, 33. As fellow members of the Broadmoor Improvement Association, he and Thompson are supposed to advise residents about rebuilding. "But Joe and I realized we had a real pickle on our hands," says McBride. "No matter what we recommended to residents--raising their houses or putting air-conditioning up on blocks--it might not matter at all. Our question is, Are they going to be able to pump enough water out to prevent flooding? We don't know."

•PREPARING FOR THE WORST

GIVEN ALL THE UNCERTAINTIES, THE CITY'S evacuation plan is simple: Get out of town before a bad storm strikes. Vera Trippett, 34, stood in her three-bedroom ranch house in Gentilly last week, contemplating the rapidly approaching hurricane season. Her house stewed for weeks in 10 ft. of nasty water after Katrina. She's reluctant to put her trust in the levees, but, she says, "I do have faith in the Corps' need not to be embarrassed again." As a result, she and her husband John are finishing repairs. They have gutted their house, put in hurricane-resistant windows and listened, yes, listened, to make sure every roofing sheet got the required six nails. But that doesn't mean they're not prepared to leave if they have to. Trippett was once blasé about hurricanes. Not anymore. "Even if it's a Category 1," she says, "we're out of here."