I am nearly silenced by the tragedy
Today is a lovely Labor Day here in Oregon. The temperature is in the low 70s, puffy clouds float overhead. Birds in the fig tree chatter.
This is such a far cry from the desolation we see people experiencing in the South. I find it difficult to know what to say. I am not certain that we can know what to make of Katrina's impact just yet; the debris and costs and spiraling changes in people's lives are too close still. I cannot imagine that having nearly a quarter of a million people out of their homes and in places distant from them will evaporate quickly. I have been in a devestating flood, and I remember the strange fungus growing out of the walls of the house when the water receded and the half inch of muck of unknown composition on every surface. New Orleans won't just hose off and go ahead. And the losses of life. That seems too big to grasp just yet.
The paper today says that some thousands of flood victims will be flying here for refuge. Mar and I discuss what we might do to help. We'll have to call and ask. I remember from my childhood that my family sponsored a refugee family from Dutch Indonesia when the colonial period ended there. They struggled and struggled to make the adjustment to this new place. As a kid, I certainly didn't realize how hard it was. Everything here was different. No one knew who they were. I think they felt somehow that they'd failed in having to come and take this help.
So here we are. All of us in this same boat...the American boat. I think the physical cleanup and repair is the easiest part. The "knowing what to do next time" is much harder.
I listened last week to Ted Koppel on Nightline as he asked the FEMA manager, incredulously, how he could say that people at the Superdome were being fed two meals a day when reporters had just interviewed dozens who said they had had no food, water, or other help. We need to be clear that it's unacceptable to water down the truth in a crisis. And in pursuit of understanding what those truths might include, I think note must be taken of the fact that emergency agencies ran exercises based on a scenario almost exactly the same as what happened. How could such preparation leave emergency management agencies so ill-equipped for what actually happened? I don't know the answer, but an answer must be sought.
I thought, as I have at times in the past, that we may be making a large policy error in providing an agency that helps people reestablish themselves in areas of the country where natural events guarantee periodic destruction. I understand, for example, that people living in hurricane zones have to pay higher insurance. But I've also heard that the risk pool that they're put in is not guaranteed by the insurance companies but by the taxpayer. If true, that doesn't make sense. In Oregon, scientists tell us there will be a subduction quake at the coast and it will likely be devestating. I am not in favor of helping people build in the vulnerable areas with government backing and support. Just doesn't make sense.
It is also true, in places such as New Orleans and Coos Bay Oregon, that there are people whose families have been in the area for generations. Very often, those people have few resources available to them. They are the most likely victims, and what happens to them is a reflection of what our values are really like. Wouldn't it be a better national public policy to help people to relocate out of areas like New Orleans than to have to go in and rescue and rebuild after the fact? It's a completely different approach but I think it's worth considering.
In the meantime, we will use the silence of the moment for prayer. And savor the gift of the day we've been given.
This is such a far cry from the desolation we see people experiencing in the South. I find it difficult to know what to say. I am not certain that we can know what to make of Katrina's impact just yet; the debris and costs and spiraling changes in people's lives are too close still. I cannot imagine that having nearly a quarter of a million people out of their homes and in places distant from them will evaporate quickly. I have been in a devestating flood, and I remember the strange fungus growing out of the walls of the house when the water receded and the half inch of muck of unknown composition on every surface. New Orleans won't just hose off and go ahead. And the losses of life. That seems too big to grasp just yet.
The paper today says that some thousands of flood victims will be flying here for refuge. Mar and I discuss what we might do to help. We'll have to call and ask. I remember from my childhood that my family sponsored a refugee family from Dutch Indonesia when the colonial period ended there. They struggled and struggled to make the adjustment to this new place. As a kid, I certainly didn't realize how hard it was. Everything here was different. No one knew who they were. I think they felt somehow that they'd failed in having to come and take this help.
So here we are. All of us in this same boat...the American boat. I think the physical cleanup and repair is the easiest part. The "knowing what to do next time" is much harder.
I listened last week to Ted Koppel on Nightline as he asked the FEMA manager, incredulously, how he could say that people at the Superdome were being fed two meals a day when reporters had just interviewed dozens who said they had had no food, water, or other help. We need to be clear that it's unacceptable to water down the truth in a crisis. And in pursuit of understanding what those truths might include, I think note must be taken of the fact that emergency agencies ran exercises based on a scenario almost exactly the same as what happened. How could such preparation leave emergency management agencies so ill-equipped for what actually happened? I don't know the answer, but an answer must be sought.
I thought, as I have at times in the past, that we may be making a large policy error in providing an agency that helps people reestablish themselves in areas of the country where natural events guarantee periodic destruction. I understand, for example, that people living in hurricane zones have to pay higher insurance. But I've also heard that the risk pool that they're put in is not guaranteed by the insurance companies but by the taxpayer. If true, that doesn't make sense. In Oregon, scientists tell us there will be a subduction quake at the coast and it will likely be devestating. I am not in favor of helping people build in the vulnerable areas with government backing and support. Just doesn't make sense.
It is also true, in places such as New Orleans and Coos Bay Oregon, that there are people whose families have been in the area for generations. Very often, those people have few resources available to them. They are the most likely victims, and what happens to them is a reflection of what our values are really like. Wouldn't it be a better national public policy to help people to relocate out of areas like New Orleans than to have to go in and rescue and rebuild after the fact? It's a completely different approach but I think it's worth considering.
In the meantime, we will use the silence of the moment for prayer. And savor the gift of the day we've been given.
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