A Year Later, It's Still Time to Help the Gulf Coast

As expected, the awful anniversary of hurricanes Katrina and Rita was both moving and well documented. It brought forth much speechifying, media coverage and finger-pointing analysis. It even brought forth a three-hour-plus HBO movie from director Spike Lee. And along with all the sadness and anger, ran the now familiar themes: this was the worst natural disaster in United States history; the governmental response was bunglingly inadequate; and thousands upon thousands of people are still in dire straits--no house, no job, no money and little if any help in sight. Missing, however, was a clarion call for additional assistance from people like you and me.

I point this out not because I think government is or should be off the hook. A friend of mine, who hails from New Orleans and whose family still lives there, thinks the government did about all that it could. I disagree. The governmental response was and continues to be pitifully inadequate. Even the President said as much. Yes, there were a couple of bright spots. One was the U.S. Coast Guard’s heroic rescue effort—much of it apparently accomplished by ignoring rules. A second was a U.S. Department of Agriculture plan to help people in storm-devastated rural areas rebuild not only their homes, but also their economies. Sadly, that effort died on the vine—apparently for lack of political will. But overall, the government—federal, state and in some places local—failed miserably.

Clearly, there needs to be both an accounting for those failures and corrective measures to avoid repeating them the next time. I leave that, however, for others to discuss because neither fixing the blame nor fixing the system will help people whom so desperately need help, and need it now.

Which brings me to the second part of my friend’s argument: that private individuals, faith-based organizations and non-profits are (especially now) the best hope for those stricken by this disaster. Whether they should be is another discussion. The fact is, they are. In many places, it was they—not the government—that were first on the scene. It was they—not the government—who dispensed aid without red tape. It was they—not the government—who are still on the ground helping out.

Who are “they?” The answer can only be: “us—you and me.”

Like millions, I sat transfixed and horrified at the unfolding events last year. Like many, I then sent a check and offered up a prayer. And that, I confess, was that. Oh, I continued to watch the coverage and read the reports. I continued to feel sympathy for the victims and anger at the maddeningly ineffective response. But I did not act. I did not go down to the region to cut fallen trees, clear debris or hand out sandwiches. I did not pitch in at the emergency shelter set up down the street to house evacuees who had driven hundreds of miles to escape the storm’s fury. Nor did I even write another check. I thought about all of these things; but life—my life, my concerns—overtook and I did not act.

Sadly, I—all of us—still have the opportunity. It’s not too late to help. Thousands of families still lack adequate shelter, schools and medical care. Countless people still have no way to earn a living. Communities all along the Gulf hang on the edge of extinction. Governmental assistance has not and will not reach all those who need it now and will need it for months if not years to come. But collectively, we can. We can write another check. We can spend a week or just a long weekend helping people in the region rebuild their homes. We can spend an evening helping evacuees living close to us. As one volunteer in the Spike Lee movie put it, “Y’all come.”

A year ago, I wrote that, “Remaking the Gulf Coast is strewn with obstacles just as the coast itself is now strewn with debris. It will require a monumental commitment of time, money and effort and no small amount of sacrifice from all Americans. Now, however, is the time.”

It’s still the time. Let each of us be moved again not simply to sympathy or to anger, but to action.