Big Easy's dispossessed tune into
By James Rainey
Los Angeles Times
NEW ORLEANS — From Houston's motels to an RV camped outside an Arkansas discount store to crammed apartments around the Southeast, Hurricane Katrina evacuees wait for the sun to go down.
They know that when night falls, the signal from WWL-AM in New Orleans will reach far beyond the bayous. Mighty at 50,000 watts, "The Big 870" at night reaches about 30 states, all the way to Ohio.
For many of the city's dispossessed, WWL has become a nightly symbolic trip back home — presided over most nights by host, adviser, therapist and friend Deke "The Big Chief" Bellavia.
Once renowned mostly for his knowledge of southeastern Louisiana high school football, the 34-year-old Bellavia welcomes listeners to talk about everything from FEMA and Mardi Gras to the NFL's Saints and the state's flood insurance pool.
What he lacks in specific answers he makes up for in empathy and humor — good will enhanced by a voice that reeks of chicory coffee and warm beignets.
Cyril Dumaine of New Orleans' inundated Lakeview area said WWL and, particularly Bellavia, have been a balm for his cares — which include the loss of his home and a longing to be reunited with his 4-year-old daughter, sent to live with relatives during the rebuilding.
"That Big Deke," Dumaine said, "he tells it straight."
"Deke is a young man with a lot of depth of character and a lot of depth of soul," added Diane Newman, WWL operations manager who expanded Bellavia's role after Katrina.
"He gives people comfort, and he understands the need for comfort right now."
Empathizing with a man bedeviled by a slow insurance adjuster, the Big Chief offered an old bromide: "Patience is like money and milk. You can hold on to it, but eventually ... it's going to expire" — the last phrase spilled out as one long word: "iss-gone-ta-espiyah."
The rest of the country may have stopped worrying about the aftermath of the flood, but in New Orleans and along the Gulf Coast, the daily reality of thousands of homes destroyed and jobs gone has not abated.
WWL is a prime place for survivors to vent their anguish and to get a few answers. The size of the audience may not become clear until spring, since the Arbitron rating service temporarily has suspended audience surveys here. But calls and e-mails suggest the station's audience (also listening live at www .wwl.com) has expanded hugely since the storm.
At 6-feet-3 and 340 pounds, and a fan of American Indian culture (with chiefs tattooed on a shoulder and ankle), Bellavia seems to have earned his "Big Chief" nickname.
He sometimes lets callers talk longer than his producers like.
"They need a sense of hope," he said. "I like to think in this whole saga, that happened and that's still happening, that we help the people, just a little bit."