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> > Messages |
| Katrina victims can post stories, share experiences here |
| Eric Vermetten (Guest) |
Posted on: 09/03/2005 01:18
Like was the case after the tsunami in Asia, to be able to express your experiences is important. The TISEI project group would like to provide acces to this part of the website for KATRINA victims.
The Katrina Hurricane is an unprecedented disaster in the US. This will take a long long time to not only rebuild the ciy, but also to give all the personal experiences a place.
Please use this forum to share wahtever you need to express, if the forum is used widely, we will differentiate this into different categeories.
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| anonymous (Guest) |
Posted on: 10/30/2005 22:26
Informative to read! If you know officials, deputees, ministers and
press-authorities: please forward this to them.
This way of handling needs a change...
Louise
> ----- Oorspronkelijk bericht -----
> Van: "Gerry Bloemen" > Verzonden: vrijdag 16 september 2005 9:46
> Onderwerp: FW: Professor's experience in New Orleans
> > worth a read, hard to believe they are talking about a rich country like
> > america, felicita
> > Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2005 08:07:33 +1000
> > >
> > >Two days after Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, the Walgreen's
> > store at the corner of Royal and Iberville streets remained locked. The
dairy
> > >display case was clearly visible through the windows. It was now 48
> > hours without electricity, running water, plumbing. The milk, yogurt,
and
> > cheeses were beginning to spoil in the 90-degree heat. The owners and
managers
> > had locked up the food, water, pampers, and prescriptions and fled the
> > City.
> > >Outside Walgreen's windows, residents and tourists grew increasingly
> > >thirsty and hungry. The much-promised federal, state and local aid
never
> > >materialized and the windows at Walgreen's gave way to the looters.
> > There was an alternative. The cops could have broken one small window
and
> > >distributed the nuts, fruit juices, and bottle water in an organized
> > and systematic manner. But they did not. Instead they spent hours
playing
> > cat and mouse, temporarily chasing away the looters.
> > >
> > >We were finally airlifted out of New Orleans two days ago and arrived
> > home yesterday (Saturday). We have yet to see any of the TV coverage
orlook
> > at a newspaper. We are willing to guess that there were no video images
or
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> > >front-page pictures of European or affluent white tourists looting the
> > >Walgreen's in the French Quarter.
> > >
> > >We also suspect the media will have been inundated with "hero" images
> > of the National Guard, the troops and the police struggling to help the
> > >"victims" of the Hurricane. What you will not see, but what we
> > witnessed, were the real heroes and sheroes of the hurricane relief
effort: the
> > >working class of New Orleans. The maintenance workers who used a fork
> > lift to carry the sick and disabled. The engineers, who rigged, nurtured
and
> > >kept the generators running. The electricians who improvised thick
extension
> > cords stretching over blocks to share the little electricity we had in
order
> > to free cars stuck on rooftop parking lots. Nurses who took over for
> > >mechanical ventilators and spent many hours on end manually forcing
> > air into the lungs of unconscious patients to keep them alive. Doormen
who
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> > >rescued folks stuck in elevators.
> > >
> > >Refinery workers who broke into boat yards, "stealing" boats to rescue
> > >their neighbors clinging to their roofs in flood waters. Mechanics who
> > >helped hot-wire any car that could be found to ferry people out of the
> > >City. And the food service workers who scoured the commercial kitchens
> > >improvising communal meals for hundreds of those stranded. Most of
> > these workers had lost their homes, and had not heard from members of
their
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> > >families, yet they stayed and provided the only infrastructure for the
> > 20% of New Orleans that was not under water.
> > >
> > >On Day 2, there were approximately 500 of us left in the hotels in the
> > >French Quarter. We were a mix of foreign tourists, conference attendees
> > >like ourselves, and locals who had checked into hotels for safety and
> > >shelter from Katrina. Some of us had cell phone contact with family and
> > >friends outside of New Orleans. We were repeatedly told that all sorts
> > of resources including the National Guard and scores of buses were
pouring
> > into the City. The buses and the other resources must have been
invisible
> > >because none of us had seen them.
> > >
> > >We decided we had to save ourselves. So we pooled our money and came up
> > >with $25,000 to have ten buses come and take us out of the City. Those
> > who did not have the requisite $45.00 for a ticket were subsidized by
those
> > who did have extra money. We waited for 48 hours for the buses, spending
> > the last 12 hours standing outside, sharing the limited water, food, and
> > >clothes we had. We created a priority boarding area for the sick,
> > elderly and new born babies. We waited late into the night for the
"imminent"
> > >arrival of the buses. The buses never arrived. We later learned that
> > the minute they arrived at the City limits, they were commandeered by
the
> > >military.
> > >
> > >By day 4 our hotels had run out of fuel and water. Sanitation was
> > >dangerously abysmal. As the desperation and despair increased, street
> > crime as well as water levels began to rise. The hotels turned us out
and
> > locked their doors, telling us that the "officials" told us to report to
the
> > >convention center to wait for more buses. As we entered the center of
> > the City, we finally encountered the National Guard. The Guards told us
we
> > >would not be allowed into the Superdome as the City's primary shelter
> > had descended into a humanitarian and health hellhole. The guards
further
> > told us that the City's only other shelter, the Convention Center, was
also
> > >descending into chaos and squalor and that the police were not allowing
> > >anyone else in. Quite naturally, we asked, "If we can't go to the only
> > 2 shelters in the City, what was our alternative?" The guards told us
> > that that was our problem, and no they did not have extra water to give
to
> > us.
> > >This would be the start of our numerous encounters with callous and
> > hostile "law enforcement".
> > >
> > >We walked to the police command center at Harrah's on Canal Street and
> > were told the same thing, that we were on our own, and no they did not
have
> > >water to give us. We now numbered several hundred. We held a mass
> > meeting to decide a course of action. We agreed to camp outside the
police
> > command post. We would be plainly visible to the media and would
constitute a
> > >highly visible embarrassment to the City officials. The police told us
> > that we could not stay. Regardless, we began to settle in and set up
camp.
> > In short order, the police commander came across the street to address
our
> > >group. He told us he had a solution: we should walk to the
> > Pontchartrain Expressway and cross the greater New Orleans Bridge where
the police
> > had buses lined up to take us out of the City. The crowd cheered and
began
> > to move.
> > >We called everyone back and explained to the commander that there had
> > been lots of misinformation and wrong information and was he sure that
there
> > >were buses waiting for us. The commander turned to the crowd and stated
> > >emphatically, "I swear to you that the buses are there."
> > >We organized ourselves and the 200 of us set off for the bridge with
> > great excitement and hope. As we marched past the convention center,
many
> > locals saw our determined and optimistic group and asked where we were
headed.
> > We told them about the great news. Families immediately grabbed their
few
> > >belongings and quickly our numbers doubled and then doubled again.
> > >Babies in strollers now joined us, people using crutches, elderly
> > clasping walkers and others people in wheelchairs. We marched the 2-3
miles to
> > the freeway and up the steep incline to the Bridge. It now began to pour
> > down rain, but it did not dampen our enthusiasm.
> > >
> > >As we approached the bridge, armed Gretna sheriffs formed a line across
> > the foot of the bridge. Before we were close enough to speak, they
began
> > >firing their weapons over our heads. This sent the crowd fleeing in
> > various directions. As the crowd scattered and dissipated, a few of us
inched
> > >forward and managed to engage some of the sheriffs in conversation. We
> > told them of our conversation with the police commander and of the
> > commander's assurances. The sheriffs informed us there were no buses
waiting. The
> > >commander had lied to us to get us to move.
> > >
> > >We questioned why we couldn't cross the bridge anyway, especially as
> > there was little traffic on the 6-lane highway. They responded that the
West
> > Bank was not going to become New Orleans and there would be no
Superdomes
> > in their City. These were code words for if you are poor and black, you
> > are not crossing the Mississippi River and you were not getting out of
New
> > >Orleans.
> > >
> > >Our small group retreated back down Highway 90 to seek shelter from the
> > >rain under an overpass. We debated our options and in the end decided
> > to build an encampment in the middle of the Ponchartrain Expressway on
the
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> > >center divide, between the O'Keefe and Tchoupitoulas exits. We reasoned
> > we would be visible to everyone, we would have some security being on an
> > >elevated freeway and we could wait and watch for the arrival of the yet
> > to be seen buses.
> > >
> > >All day long, we saw other families, individuals and groups make the
> > same trip up the incline in an attempt to cross the bridge, only to be
> > turned away. Some chased away with gunfire, others simply told no,
others to
> > be verbally berated and humiliated. Thousands of New Orleaners were
> > prevented and prohibited from self-evacuating the City on foot.
> > >
> > > Meanwhile, the only two City shelters sank further into squalor and
> > >disrepair. The only way across the bridge was by vehicle. We saw
workers
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> > >stealing trucks, buses, moving vans, semi-trucks and any car that could
> > be hotwired. All were packed with people trying to escape the misery New
> > >Orleans had become.
> > >
> > >Our little encampment began to blossom. Someone stole a water delivery
> > >truck and brought it up to us. Let's hear it for looting! A mile or so
> > down the freeway, an army truck lost a couple of pallets of C-rations on
a
> > tight turn. We ferried the food back to our camp in shopping carts. Now
> > secure with the two necessities, food and water; cooperation,
community, and
> > >creativity flowered. We organized a clean up and hung garbage bags from
> > the rebar poles. We made beds from wood pallets and cardboard. We
> > designated a storm drain as the bathroom and the kids built an elaborate
enclosure
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> > for privacy out of plastic, broken umbrellas, and other scraps. We even
> > >organized a food recycling system where individuals could swap out
> > parts of C-rations (applesauce for babies and candies for kids!).
> > >
> > >This was a process we saw repeatedly in the aftermath of Katrina. When
> > >individuals had to fight to find food or water, it meant looking out
> > for yourself only. You had to do whatever it took to find water for your
> > kids or food for your parents. When these basic needs were met, people
> > began to look out for each other, working together and constructing a
> > community.
> > >
> > >If the relief organizations had saturated the City with food and water
> > in the first 2 or 3 days, the desperation, the frustration and the
> > ugliness would not have set in. Flush with the necessities, we offered
food and
> > >water to passing families and individuals. Many decided to stay and
join us.
> > >Our encampment grew to 80 or 90 people. From a woman with a battery
> > poweredradio we learned that the media was talking about us. Up in full
view
> > on the freeway, every relief and news organizations saw us on their way
> > into the City. Officials were being asked what they were going to do
about
> > all those families living up on the freeway? The officials responded
they
> > were going to take care of us. Some of us got a sinking feeling.
"Taking
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> > care of us" had an ominous tone to it.
> > >
> > >Unfortunately, our sinking feeling (along with the sinking City) was
> > >correct. Just as dusk set in, a Gretna Sheriff showed up, jumped out of
> > his patrol vehicle, aimed his gun at our faces, screaming, "Get off the
> > >fucking freeway". A helicopter arrived and used the wind from its
> > blades to blow away our flimsy structures. As we retreated, the sheriff
loaded
> > up his truck with our food and water. Once again, at gunpoint, we were
> > forced off the freeway. All the law enforcement agencies appeared
threatened
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> > when we congregated or congealed into groups of 20 or more. In every
> > >congregation of "victims" they saw "mob" or "riot". We felt safety in
> > >numbers. Our "we must stay together" was impossible because the
> > agencies would force us into small atomized groups.
> > >
> > >In the pandemonium of having our camp raided and destroyed, we
> > scattered once again. Reduced to a small group of 8 people, in the dark,
we
> > sought refuge in an abandoned school bus, under the freeway on Cilo
Street.
> > >We were hiding from possible criminal elements but equally and
> > definitely, we were hiding from the police and sheriffs with their
martial law,
> > curfew and shoot-to-kill policies.
> > >
> > >The next days, our group of 8 walked most of the day, made contact with
> > New Orleans Fire Department and were eventually airlifted out by an
urban
> > >search and rescue team. We were dropped off near the airport and
> > managed to catch a ride with the National Guard. The two young
guardsmen
> > apologized for the limited response of the Louisiana guards. They
explained that a
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> > >large section of their unit was in Iraq and that meant they were
> > >shorthanded and were unable to complete all the tasks they were
> > assigned.
> > >
> > >We arrived at the airport on the day a massive airlift had begun. The
> > >airport had become another Superdome. We 8 were caught in a press of
> > >humanity as flights were delayed for several hours while George Bush
> > landed briefly at the airport for a photo op. After being evacuated on a
> > coast guard cargo plane, we arrived in San Antonio, Texas.
> > >
> > >There the humiliation and dehumanization of the official relief effort
> > >continued. We were placed on buses and driven to a large field where we
> > >were forced to sit for hours and hours. Some of the buses did not have
> > >air-conditioners. In the dark, hundreds if us were forced to share two
> > >filthy overflowing porta-potties. Those who managed to make it out with
> > any possessions (often a few belongings in tattered plastic bags) we
were
> > >subjected to two different dog-sniffing searches.
> > >
> > >Most of us had not eaten all day because our C-rations had been
> > confiscated at the airport because the rations set off the metal
detectors. Yet,
> > no food had been provided to the men, women, children, elderly,
disabled
> > as they sat for hours waiting to be "medically screened" to make sure
we
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> > >were not carrying any communicable diseases.
> > >
> > >This official treatment was in sharp contrast to the warm, heart-felt
> > >reception given to us by the ordinary Texans. We saw one airline worker
> > >give her shoes to someone who was barefoot. Strangers on the street
> > offered us money and toiletries with words of welcome. Throughout, the
> > official relief effort was callous, inept, and racist. There was more
suffering
> > than need be. Lives were lost that did not need to be lost.
> > >
> > >Joel Stillerman, PhD, Assistant Professor, Dept. of Sociology, Grand
Valley State University, 2166 AuSable Hall, Allendale, MI 49401, Phone:
616-331-3129, Fax: 616-331-3735, e-mail: stillejo@gvsu.edu
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