Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Katrina

What's in a hurricane?

I'm a little callous about natural disasters, generally. Possibly because most of my memories of surviving Hurricane Hugo are quite pleasant - Dad buying ice cream (which had to be finished immediately in the power outage!), camping out in the hallway, playing on the new jungle gym of fallen trees. So when a disaster strikes with warning, I kind of tend to assume that everyone will be okay, that everyone will sensibly and safely evacuate, and if not, well, maybe they can go swimming a lot closer to home than usual.

Then today I was informed that, in my town in North Carolina, gasoline was going to be out of supply from 6:00 PM tonight until at least Monday, thanks to Katrina. That slightly cloudier, slightly windier day we had the other day had spent itself wrecking our nation's petroleum ports and refineries.

I've never heard of one storm having such a wide effect in the States. It started me wondering about the depth. I'd been avoiding the news stories, you see, because I've been sticking to reading every moment I'm not working. But tonight I look it up, and discover that the death toll is likely to be in the thousands.

In the thousands.

One storm. And this isn't a tsunami striking without a decent warning system. This is one we've been watching approach for days. We've known for at least two days that it was likely to hit New Orleans and the surrounding area. We have sophisticated communication and transportation systems. Why couldn't we avert the tragedies? Property damage is painful, but loss of human life is ...

is...

.

And I can't understand it. Why should rescue missions even be necessary? Why in Heaven's name were there more than a tiny handful of people left, and why were any people left outside, say, the Astrodome?

It probably has to do with logistics and complications I don't know about. Who knows what kind of glut was on the highways out? How many stubborn souls simply refused to move? Who was forgotten, left behind as evacuees streamed by on every side...

I recall hearing that people will be dying of dysentary and dehydration because of the impossibility of maintaining a supply of drinking water. How little it takes for our society to crumble. I may not see my sister this weekend, because her roommate may not be able to refill her tank upon reaching this place. Suddenly, a few hundred miles have grown from a few hours away to an impassable distance. I'm trying to imagine how it is where there are no roadways left above water.

And I'm imagining floating in a little boat on a lake, with maybe some treetops and alligators, but fun enough in the end, right? *sigh* I really am too callous about disaster. Now to go get that stupid song (I'll let you guess which one specifically) out of my head.

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