I really did intend to get back into the swing of things, posting regularly.
Then Katrina hit and the Baton Rouge sister site of the firm I work for was destroyed and our services were volunteered to take Red Cross calls. I've been doing 16-hr days trying to help out with the recovery efforts in what limited capacity was available to me. I would put in my regular shift and then volunteer for as many extra hours as they would let me.
50% of the calls I was taking at the beginning were donation calls. Probably 40% of the calls were folks trying, desperately, to find out if loved ones were still alive. The other 10% was the killer. It took the hardest toll and yet kept me going back in after just two hours sleep. They were calls from folks still trapped in the city who just happened to find a live phone and were trying to reach anyone they could.
It was hell. Because there was nothing I could do. Not really. And they were desperate. Frantic. And confused as to why no help was coming.
They were good people though. Not once did I see specific blame. They just couldn't understand why the rest of the world had forgotten about them.
I would come home and kiss my children.
And turn on MSNBC or CNN.
It felt like I was doing good work until I saw the pictures of the convention center. The president of Jefferson Parrish.
My wife and I decided to sell most of our possessions in order to forward the money on to where it was so desperately needed. So many people were doing nothing. And it made no sense to me.
And afterall, they were only belongings. They could be replaced. As others would have to replace those things that they had owned. And how much of the accumulated detritus of a person's life really is essential.
At the end we hadn't liquidated as much as we'd planned. But we raised $700 dollars that we passed on to various charities.
It's sickening - and I don't quite understand it, understandable since I've had very little time to check news reports and this is my first time online in weeks - but the calls changed. The people who waited for hours in queue to make a donation disappeared. One day the efforts were going strong. The next day I got to work and found that everyone - not everyone, but a very large percentage of the callers - weren't donating. They in fact wanted their money returned to them. I even started to get the prank callers, people saying that the folks still trapped in New Orleans or recently rescued, those people who had suffered so much - had deserved it.
For the largest part, those left behind were too poor or too sick to leave. And I know that because I was hearing it from people who hadn't seen a CNN exclusive or read a Washington Post expose, people who hadn't had contact with the outside world since their city became a no man's land.
That work is done now. It's not such a sensitive issue anymore. The work can be farmed out to other groups now. The calls from the city have long since thinned away. Others can handle the donation and referral calls. It had been assigned to us due to the sensitivity of the situation. The need for empathic, human responders. Straight up volunteers are taking more of the calls now from authentic Red Cross locations.
And in time heads will roll because of the lack of response to this crisis. But there's time for that later. Right now, there is rebuilding to be done. Both of a city and of the lives of so many affected persons.
The American conscience is fickle.
But we'd better not drop the ball on this one.
We'd better not forget.
The anger is appropriate. But there will time for that later. It will be necessary that we deal with that. Fix blame and execute great changes. But now we must funnel our energies in other directions.
It might be slow going with posts over the next few days. I have schoolwork to catch up on. And I missed out on a lot of time with my children. But I just couldn't put it out of my head. And I couldn't trust others to deal with those people with the respect they deserved. I couldn't look at my kids and do nothing.