Hurricane Katrina brought Riley to Friars

St. Anthony's junior Dariyan Riley sinks into a leather chair inside a lush conference room, only a short walk from the state of the art wrestling room with rows of pristine mats emblazoned in yellow and black. The junior is the Friars' top wrestler at 171 pounds and a running back on the football team.

In 2005, Riley's family was working class in Buras, La., a small bayside community tucked along a narrow strip of land about 65 miles southeast of New Orleans. But in August, Buras became Ground Zero as Hurricane Katrina first hit land. The entire town, from the homes and schools to the water tower with the sky blue "Buras" lettering, was demolished.

"It came in a surge, like a tsunami," said Waukesha Riley, Dariyan's mother.

The Riley family, including Dariyan, his parents, two siblings and grandparents, evacuated north to a Baton Rouge hotel before the hurricane. After a week in Baton Rouge, the Riley clan, 14 of them, moved into a single home in Kaplan, La.

The people displaced by Katrina were unwelcome to the residents of this rural outpost.

"They felt like they were being invaded by us 'refugees,' " Waukesha said. "That's what they called us."

Dariyan kept to himself, adjusting to a new school while trying to sort out this horrific situation.

A silent type, he says little when asked about the ordeal.

"I was young [13] at the time," Dariyan said. "I didn't know how to take it at the time, but I could tell from my parents, it wasn't good."

"He's very quiet," said Danna Berghman, Dariyan's grandmother. "The rest of the kids, they cried. He would just sit there.

Said his mother: "He had to just hold everything in. But you know your child."

The family spent six months in Kaplan, and then it was on to New Orleans, where they were placed in FEMA trailers.

They were "horrible, just awful," as Waukesha put it, but the family needed to go back to work. Dariyan's father, Duke, resumed his life as a production operator on an oil rig.

Waukesha awoke at 4 a.m. each morning and traveled 40 miles each way to her job at a fishery.

The Riley family left the FEMA trailers and built a new life in a house in suburban Belle Chasse. Dariyan enrolled in John Curtis Christian High School in September 2008 in nearby River Ridge.

He played halfback on Curtis' football team and was named one of the wrestling team captains as a freshman. Riley joined a group of kindred spirits on the wrestling team, as Katrina had displaced most all of his teammates.

"It is pretty much a way of life down here," said Herbi Este, one of Dariyan's wrestling coaches at John Curtis. "Every time the kids hear the word 'hurricane,' it gets to them."

On the mat, he was a "dominant" force, according to Este. He recalled a tournament final from Dariyan's freshman year when he was trailing by a point. And despite a "facial expression that never changed," he looked up at Este with a frown, and shook his head. A moment later, he scored the go-ahead two-point takedown, looked back at Este, and winked.

As a sophomore, he won the 189-pound Louisiana state title, but the wheels were already in motion for his transfer to St. Anthony's. Prior to his sophomore year, he met current teammate Jamel Hudson and Charlie Heard (formerly a Friars assistant coach) at a tournament in Virginia. Later that summer, Dariyan and his parents took the school tour and were attracted to its academic and athletic reputation.

Last summer, with the transfer complete, he and Waukesha moved north in hopes of a better education and increased visibility to college recruiters.

His father still works the rigs in Louisiana, though he visits his family as much as possible.

"He is there when I need him," Dariyan said.

A standout on the Friars football team this past fall, he gets somewhat red-faced when his mother talks about the nickname bestowed upon him by a local television announcer: "The Louisiana Bullet."

"You just see his smile now," Berghman said. "Those were so rare before. Just when he is with the kids, it is so good to see that."

Riley is a quick study of the more technical northern style of wrestling. "He is buying into the system, but it's a system that takes time," Friars coach Tony Walters said. "Because when you're not used to certain things, as with anyone, they want to defy you and fight back. You just have fun breaking them down and building them back up."

After conquering Louisiana, Dariyan has found immediate success in New York, but there have been a few hiccups. Close losses to elite 171-pounders such as Hauppauge's Chanse Menendez and Connetquot's John Zullo showed him work still needs to be done.

He is buying into Walters' philosophy, developing an easy rapport with his new coach.

"They have good competition in Louisiana, but it's hard all over," Dariyan said. "New York has some good competition, but I'm taking over."

"You know this is being printed," Walters responds with a chuckle.

Dariyan cracks a sly grin. He is relishing these new surroundings. The beautiful facilities, improved educational opportunity . . . He loves it all.

But there is still the "what if" question. What if Katrina never hit Buras? He would still be in Louisiana, living life in his quaint fishing village. That would have suited him just fine.

And as much he embraces his Long Island story, there is a caveat.

"It could never be home," Dariyan said. "There is nothing like home."

But when Waukesha asks her son: "Are you happy here?"

Dariyan responds: "I'm not going back, Mom. I'm not going back."