Katrina's Lives Lost:	Benjamin, Mary Ellen 1941-2005
			Benjamin, Sterling 1966-2005
Submitted By: 		N.O.V.A March 2006
Source:			Times Picayune 

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There is a particular bond between mothers and their disabled sons. It
involves all the mysteries of gender, parenthood, caretaking and the
possibilities of human development -- powerful enough in any family but
exquisitely poignant under these circumstances.

That's the story of Mary Ellen and Sterling Benjamin. She was a reserved
woman given to modesty and restraint: a retired nurse, a faithful church-
goer and New Orleans to the core. He was mildly retarded but somewhat
independent, able to hold down a job under supervision. The two of them
spent every bit of his 38 years on Earth together.

"Their relationship grew into a companionship," says Cliff Doescher,
executive director of The Arc of Greater New Orleans, where Sterling spent
his days. "It evolved from a parent/child relationship to one of mutual
helping. A lot of older mothers taking care of adult children -- one is
becoming stronger while the other is aging -- over the years, it reverses
itself. It just happens."

Mary Ellen spent her childhood on North Johnson Street, next door to the
neighborhood grocery her father operated, then spent the rest of her life
in Gentilly Woods, where she went to live as a teenager. A graduate of
Dillard University, she worked for most of her career as a psychiatric
nurse at the Veterans Administration Hospital.

Her daughter, Christine Reed, describes Mary Ellen as a homebody -- a warm
woman, attractive to confidantes, with a flair for classic Creole cooking
and an aversion to anything ostentatious.

"Flashy was a big issue with her," says Reed, who lives in Chicago. "Her
style was simple but elegant. She never wore pants. She had trouble with
lipstick."

Sterling was a bit more excitable. He could focus closely on an issue and
he could sometimes be repetitive and petulant. He and his mother had spats
every now and then.

But he tended fastidiously to his duties in the house: He brought in the
paper, he took out the garbage, he kept track of the mail. And there was
fullness to his life: He played the saxophone, he studied karate, he served
as an usher at St. John Divine Missionary Baptist Church.

He also went to work each day at Crown Buick and Mossy Oldsmobile, washing
new cars with a crew from The Arc. He was proud of his paychecks -- he
crowed incessantly when he had a big one coming -- and he became
enthusiastic about what he could buy, from a new pair of sneakers to an LL
Cool J CD.

"He loved to work," says Jane Wilson, associate director of The Arc. "And
he loved to get paid."

As Katrina bore down on New Orleans, family members urged Mary Ellen and
Sterling to evacuate.

"She was one of those folks who had ridden through Betsy," Reed says. "Her
neighborhood didn't flood then. That neighborhood never flooded."

But it did this time. This time, there was 6 feet of water in the house.
And it was two weeks before the National Guard went in.

They found Sterling outdoors, under a car, inside a neighbor's carport.
They found Mary Ellen alone in her house on her 64th birthday.