When White Vigilantes Turned Katrina’s Chaos Into A Race War
On Aug. 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans with devastating force, bringing 120 mph winds and flooding that would kill over 1,800 people and leave more than $160 billion in damage that would impact property, infrastructure, and Black residents’ economic stability, according to ICRS. But the disaster wasn’t just environmental; it exposed deep racial and social inequalities that would shape the city’s future for decades.
Nowhere was the devastation more severe than in the Lower 9th Ward, a historically Black neighborhood where nearly all residents were African American. Many families lacked the resources to evacuate, and those who stayed behind were left to face the storm and its aftermath with little support. Over 300,000 homes were destroyed across the Gulf Coast, displacing thousands of families and permanently altering the city’s racial landscape.
Nearly 20 years later, the effects are still being felt. According to 2000 U.S. Census Bureau data and 2024 population estimates analyzed by the Data Center, New Orleans had 121,000 fewer Black residents than it did in 2000, dropping from 67% to 58% — a staggering loss that reflects both forced displacement and systemic barriers to return.
But the tragedy didn’t end with the floodwaters.
A white vigilante movement shook the city.
In the chaotic days after the storm, a dangerous vigilante movement emerged in Algiers Point, a predominantly white enclave within the mostly Black Algiers district. Fueled by fear, racism, and a twisted sense of defense, white residents barricaded the streets with debris, armed themselves with rifles and shotguns, and began patrolling their neighborhood. Their targets? Anyone who “didn’t belong,” according to ProPublica’s 2008 investigative piece detailing the controversy.
The chilling report revealed accounts of Black residents being shot at — or killed — by these self-appointed militias. One of the most harrowing incidents involved Donnell Herrington and his cousin, Marcel Alexander, along with their friend Chris Collins, who were trying to reach an evacuation point at the Algiers Point ferry landing on Sept. 1, 2005.
As they crossed a barricade set up by local white resident Roland J. Bourgeois and his group, Bourgeois—believing they were looters—opened fire with a shotgun, hitting all three men, according to court documents obtained by the U.S. Department of Justice. Herrington sustained the worst of the shooting, catching shots to his neck, arms, chest, and stomach.
“I can remember one of them calling me a n-gger,” Herrington, who survived the attack, told Democracy Now in a 2008 interview. “‘Get out of here n-gger. We can’t help you, we’re liable to shoot you ourselves,’” was the last thing he heard before he was rushed to the hospital.
Buckshot pellets also struck both Alexander and Collins, with Alexander suffering wounds to his back, arm, and buttocks from the spray of the lead pellets, according to ProPublica. Bourgeois later bragged about the shooting, using racial slurs and vowing to finish the job if any had survived.
“Anything coming up this street darker than a brown paper bag is getting shot,” he allegedly shouted.
Despite being charged in 2010, Bourgeois’s prosecution was delayed for years due to questions about his mental competency. After being found fit to stand trial in 2018, he pleaded guilty and was sentenced in 2019 to 10 years in prison, followed by five years of supervised release.
Many cases connected to Hurricane Katrina’s white vigilante movement went unresolved.
While Herrington, Alexander, and Collins eventually received justice, many other victims of the post-Katrina vigilante violence did not. At least 11 Black people were shot during that chaotic period. Black residents were harassed, too. Notably, Malik Rahim, a resident of Algiers Point, claimed he was threatened at gunpoint by several white neighbors just days after the vicious storm, during Democracy Now‘s 2008 story on the tragedy.
To this day, it remains unclear whether those incidents were ever fully investigated or brought to justice. Without functioning radios or dispatch systems, many officers from the New Orleans Police Department had no way of knowing about the vigilantes’ insidious actions. Some law enforcement allegedly turned a blind eye to the violence, according to Rahim’s recent interview with the Katrina Tribunal in February.
But one thing is for sure. Hurricane Katrina was more than a natural disaster; it was a social reckoning. It didn’t just destroy homes and flood streets; it exposed the deep racial and systemic inequities embedded in the fabric of New Orleans. The scars left on Black communities are still visible in the city’s shifting demographics, ongoing disparities, and the trauma of violence that followed the storm.
And yet, through it all, the spirit of New Orleans endures. From grassroots rebuilding efforts to cultural preservation and advocacy, Black communities continue to fight for justice, remembrance, and a future where their voices are no longer sidelined, but centered.
SEE MORE: