NEW ORLEANS – She showed up at 7 a.m., two hours before the door opened.
Though she didn’t meet with a caseworker until 9:45 a.m., Sheila Smith wasn’t upset by the wait.
“They’re taking care of individuals in a timely manner, and the people are just a blessing. Their personalities – they’re really concerned with our issues,” she said, smiling. “And I just thank them. This is some fast service.”
On Tuesday morning, Smith and hundreds of other displaced New Orleans residents lined up at the Catholic Life Center in Baton Rouge, La., to seek assistance with bills, job training and adjustment to their new lives.
The CLC’s relief efforts are a collaboration between Catholic Charities, Catholic Community Services and Catholic Relief Services.

Staff members say they are interested in providing aid, not in spreading their religion.
“We are not out to convert anyone – we don’t even ask if they’re Catholic,” said Carol Spruell, communications coordinator at the CLC.
Catholic Charities has a long-standing tradition of helping the poor and is a top private provider of social services in the United States, Spruell said.
Since Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf region in late August, the CLC has become one of many private organizations assisting those who were forced from their homes with the myriad issues and difficulties they are facing.
Currently, the CLC is helping with utility bills for host families, rent for displaced families and placement in other states for those willing to leave the area.
As of Oct. 8, the CLC had received 2,460 applications for aid – an average of 150 per day – and has helped 1,200 displaced persons with travel expenses, putting families back together.
By 9 a.m. Tuesday, the doors of CLC had opened and the lobby was full, with a line snaking outside. Some waited up to five hours to apply for aid, but many of them said it was the best service they’d received so far.
Many had horror stories of the storm and its aftermath.
Smith stayed in her Gretna, La., home during the hurricane and was unable to locate family members for two weeks after the storm.
“The living room ceiling came off, and we were in three feet of water for two and a half days,” Smith said. “We just sat there. We were wet. We had an 86-year-old woman with us.”
As the waters receded, Smith and four family members set out to find her mother, nephew and sister, all of whom were unaccounted for.
Two weeks later, everyone had relocated to Plaquemine, La., with all eight living under one roof.
They traveled to Dallas, where there were offers of apartments, but the family left after realizing that if they stayed they would be split up into two households.
“One of the things we specified was that we would not be separated again,” she said.
Now, Smith is seeking help to move to Oklahoma to join her father’s family. The remainder of her extended family is splintering off to Houston, Plaquemine and Baton Rouge.
“This whole experience has been a learning and changing thing for us,” she said. “It’s a growing thing for us, and as a family it’s brought us closer, but it’s going to separate us too, and that’s the devastating thing for us. But we need to get stable; I need to get stable.”
Smith is unusual in her willingness to leave the state.
“There are a lot of opportunities out there, but the issue is that a lot of people just don’t want to leave Louisiana,” said Kristen Simmons, a social caseworker for Catholic Charities.
Simmons flew down from Albany, NY, a few weeks after Hurricane Katrina hit to do what she could to help those in need.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come or not, so I prayed, and two days later I was on the plane,” she said.
For the past two weeks, Simmons has been staying at a home owned by the CLC, arriving at the center at 8 a.m. each day.
She’s returning to New York and to her husband next week, but she said she wishes she could stay.
Other caseworkers found themselves at the CLC after fleeing the hurricane themselves.
Christopher Albright, a relief caseworker, searched for a job in Baton Rouge after losing his in New Orleans. He said he evacuated after watching the Weather Channel and deciding that this was “the big one.”
“New Orleanians have this strange notion that the city of New Orleans is somehow blessed or has some magical properties – and this wasn’t even a direct hit,” he said.
He moved to his property in Baton Rouge and landed the job as a caseworker after pursuing employment in his original line of work – working with the elderly.
Although he had never worked in social services before, he said he loves his new job.
“It’s been great – I know that I’m doing well by doing good,” he said.
After processing all the people in line, the caseworkers took a break and gathered for an informal meeting to discuss how they feel and to talk about any difficulties that have arisen. Though all five looked tired, they said their work is very satisfying, though it can be frustrating when they’re powerless to help everyone who needs help.
“Sometimes, at the end of the day, I find myself saying, ‘Do you have the papers? No? Well, you need the papers or I can’t help you,’” Simmons said. “It’s like you shut down.”
While the caseworkers talked, a nun distributed the 3 p.m. batch of checks to the few people waiting in line. A few looked irritated, but most appeared happy, if not exuberant.
Samantha Mercadel, a homeowner from New Orleans East, beamed when she got her two checks – $600 rent and $88 for water. She lost everything in the home she bought and furnished two years ago. Nothing was recoverable.
“It’s hard; it’s so hard to start all over,” she said. “You go and you see everything that you’ve worked so hard for all your life – I said I was going to buy me a house before I was 30. I was 28, bought a house, furnished it, worked hard and we went back and it’s all gone.”
But despite her tears, Mercadel is still smiling.
“Today has just been a good day,” she said. “I finally got some kind of assistance, and I’m grateful for that.”

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