These were the first days of uncertainty. We had just moved back home. It had been six weeks since escaping the wrath of Hurricane Katrina. Now all was quiet, but like everyone else, we were figuring out how to deal with our lives.

Among the many issues was repairing our Mid-City home, which, as revealed by a waterline on a wall, had been flooded up to 6 feet. Like everyone else, we lost a great deal; nothing worked, and the electricity was off. We needed help but were not sure where to get it. Then someone knocked on the door. It was José.

We had not seen him in at least a year when he was part of a crew that painted the house; now he was working alone. The native of El Salvador spoke English that was embellished with his native accent. One phrase that he had mastered, and it would mean

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