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 Hurricane Katrina |
It didn't matter that the parish (county for the rest of you) we live in issued a mandatory evacuation order, nor that the parish that my elderly parents live in, just west of New Orleans, was not under a similar order, we were leaving. My wife and I picked my folks up on Saturday and left on Sunday morning. We wanted to leave Saturday but only had hotel reservations for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. We hoped that this storm would be like all the rest that threaten us. That it would weaken before it made landfall, or would head to some other unfortunate locale, sparing us its wrath. People living on the Gulf and East coasts don't like to admit it, but if a major storm is heading your way, you always hope it goes somewhere else -- somewhere sparsely populated, of course.
We all know what happened next. The "big one" had squarely hit the Eastern side of the New Orleans area and the levees did not hold. Most of the city went under. I imagine that the next worst thing to actually living through it was to watch it all on television and the Internet from hundreds of miles away. We were now officially refugees. We didn't know what, if anything, we would have to go back to. It was a day that we all hoped would never come, but here it was.
As the extent of the flooding became clearer, it appeared that neither our home, nor my parents' home, had flooded. We lived just far enough South and West of the most severely inundated areas to escape the same fate. It looked like we might be able to go back home soon. We found out that those areas that escaped the floods still suffered much wind damage and that power, as well as water and sewer services, were out over much of the area. We got the word that my parents wouldn't be able to return to their home for a month. We arranged for them stay with relatives in Arkansas. Our neighborhood bounced back quicker. We were able to return home after being away for only 10 days. We got home and it was intact and dry. We both nearly cried with joy. Everything worked too. We had power, water, sewerage, telephones, cable TV and Internet access. We were among the lucky ones. I am the Webmaster for the Delta Chapter of the Sierra Club and our Web site needed to somehow address the unfolding disaster. We posted links to relief organizations on our home page and began to consider how our organization would respond to Katrina's aftermath. Then it happened. I received an email through our Web site that almost made me fall out of my chair. Here is what it said:
"Dear Sirs: Would you like to comment on the article at the website below? I hope you have some really good attorneys and a big pile of money 'cause you're going to need it for the lawsuits you're going to get hit with! Just think how many people were injured, killed, or lost all of their worldly possessions because of your stupidity! Shame, shame on you! Sincerely, |
The email contained a link to an article from the National Review that basically places the blame for Katrina's flooding on us. It blames the flooding on the environmental community in general and on the Delta Chapter of the Sierra Club in particular. It says that since we supposedly opposed river levees in 1996 and that since our Web site states that we are working to keep the Atchafalaya River Basin "Wet and Wild" that the flooding is somehow our fault.
It's an interesting claim that is easily refuted: First, not one levee that failed was on the Mississippi River. Those levees are much more substantial that the ones that did fail. Second, the Atchafalaya River is hundreds of miles West of New Orleans and has nothing to do with flooding here.
Since this little missive not only besmirched the environmental community, the Delta Chapter, the Web site that is my baby, and me personally, action had to be taken. I forwarded the email to all Chapter leaders so we could decide how and even if we would reply to this nonsense. Ideas tossed around ranged from ignoring it to suing the bastards for slander. We ended up producing a page for our Web site containing among other things, links to a page on the National Sierra Club website that tells the real story and a report from the Corps of Engineers documenting the levee failures. The truth is there. We also sent a personal reply to the gentleman from England refuting the National Review article point-by-point. But I doubt he will let a minor thing like the facts change his opinion.
While we may oppose some of the ways that flood control is carried out in our region, it is safe to say that most of us who live East of Baton Rouge and South of Lake Pontchartrain, depend on that very flood control to keep our heads above water. My wife and I were lucky this time but many of our friends and family members were not. Flooding ranged from 18 inches of water in my brother's home to 9 to 11 feet of water in many of our friends' and families' homes who lived further East. Trust me when I tell you that even a few inches of water in your home is enough to ruin it and everything in it and to disrupt your life for months. We are not against flood protection. We simply want it done well. Maybe next time.
The National Review article carries an "author's note" that reads: "Since this article's posting, I
have been told that the Sierra Club Louisiana webmaster 'is currently unaccounted for in New
Orleans.' I wish him only the best." And here I was thinking that they didn't care. I didn't even
know that they knew me. I do want to thank them for their concern though. If only they cared enough
to get their facts straight before publishing them on the Web.
Rene' Maggio is the webmaster for the Delta (Louisiana) Chapter of the Sierra
Club.
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Photo: Mark Muhich/Sierra Club collection; all rights reserved.
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