Spirit of New Orleans

Though the number of this beast is down to 4, it remains a horror that is very hard to comprehend if you haven’t had a 400 mile wide monster try to pound you out of existence, shrieking it’s hot steamy breath in rage for endless hours, ripping the life out of the ground, flattening houses and forests. I’ve had two of them pass right over my house. I’ve had to see neighborhoods turned into wet mulch. I’ve had to spend three nights cowering in the kitchen while the 50,000 foot tall devil squatted on top of Florida’s Treasure coast and expecting any moment to have everything I own or treasure turned into pulp.

The aftermath is worse. Hurricanes are steam engines and their passing often leaves fetid, breathlessly hot and humid air behind. Sewage systems back up, many people have no water or refrigeration or even a fan. Many people have no homes. A year later, many people still have plastic tarps for roofs and some still cannot live in their houses. Many have been financially ruined.

For a pessimist and misanthrope like me, it’s surprising and wonderful to see how most people respond and few things have uplifted me more than to see volunteers turn out, money and supplies come in and a community spirit develop, no matter how briefly.

It’s still too soon to know how badly New Orleans will have to suffer and for how long, But I am sure that this storm will bring out the best in America once again, at least for a while.

Think about how it is to lose everything you have and try to imagine how important a hot meal or a shower or a dry place to sleep can be and contribute to a relief agency. It’s my experience that the government will do too little and do it too late. It’s up to you and me.