On a late August morning in 2005, Hurricane Katrina ripped through the Gulf Coast, leaving entire neighborhoods underwater and more than a million people displaced. Nearly 2,000 lives were lost.
Twenty years later, the echoes of the storm still reverberate, not only in New Orleans and Mississippi, but also in cities like Atlanta, where thousands of evacuees built new lives after fleeing the floodwaters.
Atlanta quickly became one of the largest destinations for displaced survivors. More than 100,000 evacuees arrived in the city in the months following the storm, according to a 2006 report from the Appleseed Foundation titled “A Continuing Storm: The On-Going Struggles of Hurricane Katrina Evacuees.” For many, the move was meant to be temporary. For others, it became permanent.
The story of Katrina in Atlanta is not only about displacement, but also about promises — many of them unfulfilled.
The federal government allocated more than $110 billion in recovery funds, including $16 billion earmarked for housing, the largest housing recovery program in U.S. history, according to the Congressional Research Service. But for many evacuees, those billions never translated into long-term security.
For Darnell Johnson, who was forced to leave New Orleans’s Lower Ninth Ward, the initial federal response felt like hope. “At first, FEMA trailers and job assistance seemed like real help,” Johnson recalled. “But as the months stretched into years, that support faded.”
That sentiment was common among evacuees. Tamika Brown, who relocated to Atlanta with her children, said the housing program she was enrolled in unraveled over time.
“They promised us temporary housing would turn into something permanent,” Brown said. “My family was shuffled from one apartment complex to another, and we never heard back from the housing program again.”
Recovery advocates have long pointed out that these stories reflect larger patterns. A 2009 report from Oxfam America noted that the recovery process was marred by inequitable distribution of aid. Lower-income families, renters and communities of color often received fewer resources compared to wealthier homeowners. In Atlanta, that meant many evacuees were forced to lean on relatives, local churches and nonprofit organizations rather than the government programs initially promised to them.
For some survivors, Atlanta provided a rare sense of familiarity. The city’s reputation as a cultural and economic hub for African Americans made it a natural destination for evacuees seeking community. Churches opened their doors, schools welcomed new students and mutual aid groups stepped up.
“I remember pulling into Atlanta and feeling like I had landed somewhere that understood me,” said Rochelle Lewis, a New Orleans native who became an Atlanta schoolteacher after Katrina. “It wasn’t easy — nothing about being displaced is easy — but Atlanta gave me space to grow, to rebuild and to raise my family.”
Still, not everyone adjusted smoothly. Local leaders noted that the sudden population increase strained schools, housing and social services. A 2006 report in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution described how Atlanta Public Schools saw nearly 2,000 new students in the weeks after the storm, many arriving without records or stable housing.
Even for those who found stability, the emotional scars remain. “The trauma isn’t over,” Johnson said. “That’s why it’s not post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Studies back up Johnson’s point. A 2015 report by the Kaiser Family Foundation found that more than half of Katrina survivors experienced symptoms of depression, anxiety or PTSD a decade after the storm. Two decades later, survivors in Atlanta still speak of nightmares, unresolved grief and the weight of being uprooted from a place that defined them.
“I haven’t been able to go back to New Orleans,” Brown said. “Not because I can’t, but because the person I was before Katrina doesn’t exist anymore. Atlanta is my home now, but it doesn’t erase the pain of losing everything.”
However, despite the hardships, many Katrina evacuees have built lasting lives in Atlanta. Some, like Lewis, found new careers. Others launched businesses or became leaders in their communities. Churches in neighborhoods like Southwest Atlanta still count longtime evacuees among their most active congregants.
“Displacement gave us no choice but to start over,” Johnson said. “And in some ways, that’s what makes our resilience so powerful. We had to learn how to carry our pain and build something new from it.”
Yet survivors argue that resilience should not excuse government shortcomings. Billions were promised. Billions were spent. But the uneven results underscore broader questions about disaster recovery in America.
Lorraine Cochran-Johnson, CEO of DeKalb County, Georgia, said the lessons of Katrina are still relevant as climate change drives stronger storms.
“What we saw after Katrina was a system that favored property owners over renters, and those inequities played out in cities like Atlanta,” Johnson said. “As we prepare for future disasters, we can’t repeat the same mistakes — especially in communities already on the margins.”
A new 2025 report from the National Disaster Recovery Institute found that many Katrina evacuees who resettled in Atlanta still struggle with affordable housing access, job stability and health-care needs. The report also noted that second-generation evacuees — children who grew up in Atlanta after the storm — continue to face gaps in education and mental health support.
“What happened after Katrina wasn’t just about one hurricane,” Lewis said. “It was about how we value people when they lose everything. If we don’t learn from Katrina, the same failures will happen again.”
As the anniversary nears, Atlanta’s evacuee community reflects on two decades of survival. Their lives are a testament to resilience, but also a reminder of the promises still waiting to be fulfilled.
“This anniversary isn’t just about looking back at the storm,” Lewis said. “It’s about holding leaders accountable for how they treat people after the storm has passed.”
For many, Atlanta became home by necessity. But their stories — the grief, the rebuilding and the resilience — ensure that Katrina’s legacy will never fade from the city’s history.
Sean Mitchell, who grew up in Atlanta, is a reporter for HUNewsService.com.
