NEW ORLEANS - Since Hurricane Katrina, it's been the high life for Robin D'Aunoy and his family. Literally.

The D'Aunoys, like many other families in the Lakeview neighborhood, are building homes higher off the ground in hopes of never again losing everything to a hurricane's floodwaters.

"I told my wife, we're building the right way and building what we want or we're not coming back," said D'Aunoy, who runs a construction estimating business.

Before Katrina, Lakeview was a mix of post-World War II ranch houses, '90s-era McMansions and stucco homes capped with red tiles. Varying elevation rules since the storm along with varying finances and preferences have created an uneven building pattern, with some houses towering above others that were rebuilt to pre-Katrina stature or on more modest lifts.

Some find the rebuilding pattern nearly three years after Katrina jarring, and there's question about how it could affect property values.

"Maybe we'll wake up with, 'Whoa! There's too much in-the-sky stuff,' " real estate agent Al Palumbo said. "But that's not on the radar (now)."

Staying in New Orleans

D'Aunoy was persuaded by his wife, Marty, a school counselor raised in the city, to rebuild instead of moving to be nearer his family in Phoenix. His priority was getting his family out of a cramped trailer and making sure that the home they returned to was safe.

Money was tight, since his family had barely finished a nine-year renovation, tripling its worth over what they'd paid for it when Katrina hit. But mustering loan and insurance proceeds, federal rebuilding aid and their savings, the couple began building from the 10-foot water line.

Their first story is essentially parking space, a carport, garage and still-unfinished elevator - the kind of design Mayor Ray Nagin outlined when, about a year after Katrina, he encouraged residents to build their "mansion."

The second floor, 18 steps up, still has that woody, new-home smell and has the living space: a modern kitchen with granite counters and stone tile, master bedroom, wood floors in a living room with 12-foot ceilings, glass doors opening to a porch and offering a bird's-eye view of neighbors' yards and the Army Corps of Engineers' levee work blocks away.

Up more stairs, on floor three, is 5-year-old Noah's playroom and bedroom.

The family moved in earlier this year, figuring they're about $50,000 short of finishing the elevator and other, less conspicuous "bells and whistles." The house is sparsely decorated, a result, they say, of too little money and no real desire to accumulate a lot more stuff.

'The city can come back'

Marty D'Aunoy says she's content, reading the paper on the porch that catches a cooling breeze off nearby Lake Pontchartrain.

"I think the city can come back," she said. "It's just not going to be a quick process."

The complexion of the area is changing: Neighbors, Robin D'Aunoy says, have bought empty lots to use as yards for their kids; nearby, a house is propped on skinny cement piers; and tall grass on derelict lots create dangerous blind spots on the already broken-up streets, where it's dangerous to drive the speed limit.

The pattern is repeated across Lakeview, threaded with empty houses, some still bearing the brownish waterline; for sale or rent signs; and sporadic FEMA trailers. Some elevated homes, like the D'Aunoys, blend in better with the vacant or rebuilt homes than others.

Kathy Rougelot lives near a raised house she says "looks like it's going to fall over at any time." She says she tries not to look at it. But another view from the balcony the salon operator poured a lot of money into building looks onto a derelict property piled with trash.

"Both are horrible," she said.

Evelyn Menge, who raised her home to about 4.5 feet, said she has mixed feelings about living next to a higher home, not because it's above hers - she's glad to have neighbors back - but because a part of her would rather see more traditional one- and two-story homes.

Varying heights

The neighborhood association has sought to keep some semblance of construct with frontyard setbacks. But it really has no say in how high people build; that's a matter dictated by national flood insurance requirements, local rules and individual finances and comfort levels.

After the storm, those who could prove their home was not substantially damaged could repair it at pre-storm elevation. Guidelines later approved by the city called for new builds and homes severely damaged or significantly improved to be at least 3 feet above the ground. The federal government has yet to update flood maps that could produce even different heights.

Paul May, the city's director of Safety and Permits and a Lakeview resident, recommends residents build above the minimum for their neighborhood since, he says, it can mean lower insurance rates. But, personally speaking, he believes that houses built 10 or 12 feet off the ground are a bit much.

His own house is about 5 feet off the ground, he said, the same level it was before Katrina hit.

There seems to be no definitive guidance on how high is safe enough, and expense of raising a house could keep people from coming back, Lakeview resident Bari Landry said.

"If people feel they have to rebuild to 10 feet up and don't have money, they won't return," Landry, a former neighborhood association president, said.

The D'Aunoys say they're comfortable with their chances of surviving if the levee should break again. But they aren't so sure about neighbors at ground level.

"I'll be above with a select few," he said. But, "where am I going to be if the neighborhood doesn't come back?"