With the five year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina right around the corner, we have all been confronted with a new barrage of photos, news stories, and memoirs about that mighty storm. I admit that I have been tuning in to a few of the TV specials and allowing myself to be sucked back into some degree of the anger and frustration I felt directly after the storm.
Over the last two days, I also somewhat coincidentally read Dave Egger's "Zeitoun", the account of a family whose patriarch stayed in New Orleans after the storm. He faced senseless persecution at the hands of the hodge-podge police and justice systems while his family for a time thought he was dead and mourned him. This combination of Katrina-themed entertainment has raised two new questions for me now, even five years after the storm.
Allow me to preface the remainder of this writing by saying that I was NOT in New Orleans when the storm hit. I did not even have to evacuate. I was preparing to board a flight to New Orleans on Saturday, August 27, 2005 when the security at Dulles International Airport was too congested and I missed my flight to Louisiana just as the storm was preparing to move in. I suppose I was quite fortunate in that respect. That means, however, that all of my opinions about Katrina are based on news coverage, books, and personal accounts I have heard since the storm.
My two new questions are:
1) Why was there such an extreme breakdown in the justice system for those arrested during the Katrina aftermath?
Many people who stayed behind in the city, especially after the mandatory and then forced evacuations were announced, ended up being arrested by New Orleans Police, the National Guard, or any number of mercenary peace keeping forces that were brought in from all over the country. Most of those arrested were charged with looting or similar crimes. Many were certainly innocent, but the police were on edge and ready to arrest anyone at even the slightest indication of wrongdoing or suspicious activity.
The jumpiness of the police is understandable and even acceptable to me, given the circumstances. In the case of such an extreme breakdown of society, it may in fact be safer to err on the side of caution and arrest anyone showing any signs of guilt. At that point, the justice system is supposed to take over, allowing the accused to present their cases or at least contact someone who can help legally. In this case, that did not happen. Not even a little bit.
Countless citizens who were arrested after Katrina were held for months without being allowed even a phone call. Many were housed in the outdoor, impromptu jail built at the Greyhound station, which has been compared at length to Guantanamo. This facility was guarded by prison staff borrowed from Angola Prison, who often and unnecessarily used harsh maximum security tactics on quite non-threatening detainees.
Once they were moved from Camp Greyhound to more permanent facilities, many prisoners continued to be denied basic rights, including phone calls and medical care. The correctional facilities to which these Katrina prisoners were transferred in most cases did not even have records of their new wards. The prisoners were considered FEMA's problem and widely ignored by the system.
In this senseless manner, many prisoners were lost in the system, so to speak, for up to a year after the storm hit. Their families in many cases did not even know that they had been arrested or put in prison. When some of these prisoners did face some sort of trial, often the location, time, or purpose was kept secret, even from family trying to ascertain the locations of their loved ones. The similarities between the treatment of the Katrina prisoners and the treatment of captured "Enemies of America" are lengthy and unacceptable, as Eggers, among many others, pointed out.
This, to me, is completely baffling. How difficult could it possibly be to allow someone arrested after the storm to make a phone call to his family or lawyer? Why were official records of these prisoners' whereabouts not recorded properly or made public? Why the secrecy around the trial process? Why were Katrina prisoners denied the basic care afforded to other prisoners? Was there such a breakdown in basic human dignity in New Orleans after the devastation of the storm that these prisoners were simply considered collateral and thrown away? If this is the explanation, it is not an acceptable one.
2) Why was there not a larger privatized effort to provide relief for those left in the city, such as the Convention Center and Superdome refugees?
It has been well documented and essentially accepted that government and relief agencies fell extremely short in providing water, food, medical supplies and shelter for those left in the city after the storm. No one was at all prepared to handle the volume of New Orleanians "left behind". Those housed at the Convention Center went days without food or water and lacked any degree of medical attention. Ten bodies were removed from the Center and seven from the Superdome when all was said and done.
We have been exposed to an abundance of footage showing helicopters flying over the Convention Center while thousands of civilians below wail for help. It is incredibly frustrating to realize that the resources to provide simple relief such as bottled water were so close at hand, yet unused. Pointing out that helicopters were supposedly attacked by New Orleans residents while landing (A sniper took shots at helicopters trying to land on the roof of a hospital, for example) only creates more confusion and frustration around this issue. Suffice to say that the relief promised to those who sought shelter at the authority-recommended facilities was extremely lacking.
I wonder why private organizations, companies, and citizens associated with New Orleans did not do more to provide relief. I cannot imagine a disaster of this magnitude occurring in another major American city without the wealthy and powerful residents of that city becoming extremely involved. Even without initial consent of the government, it seems to me that a private citizen who wanted to airlift some palettes of water to New Orleans on his own helicopters would ultimately be allowed to do so. This is an extremely simplified and under-researched idea, of course, but the point is simple: Where were private resources to provide relief when the "other class" of New Orleans residents so desperately needed it?
If New York or Los Angelos faced sudden, post apocalyptic conditions, I cannot imagine the movers and shakers of those cities watching their TVs while thousands of their home town's citizens suffered so unnecessarily. A racial and class division between those who were left behind and those who were not is glaring and has been widely discussed. It is easy to assert that relief and help for the poverty stricken residents of New Orleans was slow coming due to racial and class divisions. As much as I hate to say so, I buy this explanation to some extent. There was and is a shameful and sad sentiment among some of the wealthy, white residents of this city that we would be better off without the Ninth Ward (for example), all of its residents, and in fact all of "those types" in New Orleans.
I don't think that race or class is the whole story, though. I think that the answer to both of these questions lies in the total shock and devastation left behind after Katrina rolled through and particularly after a levee system meant to provide security failed so miserably. Much like survivors of any devastating natural disaster or military attack, the survivors in New Orleans and those meant to protect and serve them were thrust into a world with a new set of rules. Underlying this unfamiliar physical and sociological landscape was a tremendous amount of emotional stress. The kind of stress that creates widespread feelings of helplessness and despair.
Desperation abounded, clearly and palpably for those left behind, but for those on the sidelines as well. Watching the city one calls home being engulfed by a sea of rapidly dirtying water can certainly create a feeling of powerlessness in even the most confident of men and women.
The only thing to do now is to continue to celebrate the uniqueness and beauty of New Orleans while we continue to rebuild. Hopefully we have learned from our mistakes, but I believe there is no guarantee that a complete breakdown of resources and, as a result, a breakdown in society would not or could not occur again. The best we can do is build better levees, enjoy today, and above all learn to love and appreciate all of our city's residents. Because you never know; the next storm could be the last.
