By Phillip Bailey
Hurricane Katrina has opened up a nasty sore. It has exposed serious problems with America’s emergency services, and with America’s priorities as well. The events of the past week have undoubtedly dealt our claims of humanitarianism a crushing blow.
This storm will be of great historical significance. More deadly than hurricane Camile, which killed over 250 people in 1969, and Audrey, which killed at least 390 in 1957, Katrina has caused the worst total devastation of a major American city since the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.
With 80 percent of the city of New Orleans flooded and states like Mississippi suffering similar structural damage, restoration costs will be in the hundreds of billions.
“I think it’s fair to say this is going to be a record,” said Michael Buckley, who helps oversee the flood insurance program as a deputy director at the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA).
This devastation has not been the only cost, however. The credibility of America’s emergency response capability, specifically when dealing with crowded, urban centers populated by our country’s poor, has been damaged as well.
“It seemed like plans for protection and evacuation weren’t really in place, and once it happened, the coordination was on loose hinges,” said Ted Sluijter, spokesman for a New Orleans city park. “I don’t want to sound overly critical, but it’s hard to imagine that could happen in a Western country.”
Apparently, I am not the only one disturbed by the treatment of poor people, mostly black and brown, who were biblically left behind and herded into a modern-day Ark: the Superdome.
Admittedly, the stadium provided a needed refuge, and at the time was the best available option, but it is still shamefully inhumane to cart every impoverished resident of New Orleans into what quickly became a stifling, flooded pigpen. A Los Angeles Times article, “First fear, then loathing at Superdome,” reported that refugees hadn’t bathed in days, and were relegated to filthy bathrooms where there were bins stuffed with trash, in an un-air-conditioned cesspool filled three feet deep with water.
Were these Haitians?
As for the other southern people of color who couldn’t squeeze into the neo-Ark, many were stranded. The roofs of housing projects and apartment buildings were littered with victims, holding up signs and crying for help. Meanwhile, we have the nerve to call those men, women and children “looters” and “thieves” because they took food and clothing — likely the only supplies they’ve had access to for days.
MSNBC reported that some stranded Louisianans used a forklift to force open the storm shutters and break through the glass of an abandoned pharmacy. That’s not stealing or rioting, it’s ingenuity and survival.
Not to be mentioned lightly in this context, survival is now a serious concern for those left behind. Dehydration, food poisoning, typhoid fever, contamination of food and drinking water, and a nonexistent sewage disposal system all precipitate major health concerns. Those same people we are calling thieves now face long-term health risks due to prolonged exposure.
We, the American people, have a nasty sore to heal.
Phillip Bailey is a senior pursuing a double major in Political Science and Sociology, and is a staff writer for The Louisville Cardinal. E-mail him at: pbailey@louisvillecardinal.com
