Sunday, June 11, 2006

FEMA: The ineptitude continues...


One underlying theme that kept cropping up during my week on the Gulf Coast was the ineptitude of FEMA and the federal government to respond to the ravaged region. Not only do people complain about the lacking response in the immediate aftermath, but the problems continuing today, nearly 10 months later.

Today you can drive through Pearlington, MS and see debris piles where houses once stood with FEMA trailers parked outside, PVC pipe rooted into the ground. What’s scary is that you can also see debris piles where houses once stood with no trailer, but with tents.

Have you ever lived in a tent for 9 months? Probably not.

Have you ever slept in one for a night?

Tents are great for backpacking trips along the Appalachian Trail, but not for life along the Mississippi Delta.

Today you can drive into New Orleans, head down to the University of New Orleans Lakeview campus near Elysian Fields and see a grass field with uninhabited FEMA trailers with a good foot of weeds growing around them. From what I understand they “don’t have the keys” to move them. From what I understand there are multiple “trailer parks” like this around the region.


Why? Well, a big reason is that FEMA claims you can’t put these trailers in flood prone areas. I can see the logic (my stepmom works as Zoning Administrator in a rural SC county). Still, sometimes care for humanity should trump logic and law.

I could go on and on about similar stories I heard. Many folks in Pearlington applied for trailers 5 or more times in the first few weeks after the storm only to get them months later due to red tape. "Merry Christmas!" Here are a few quotes (as best as I could remember them) to help me sum up this first Katrina recovery-related post.

The first is from Jan, a woman in Pearlington whose house was destroyed by the 25 foot flood waters that surged through the town, which hadn’t flooded in the previous 100 years, “If they could go to Iraq and set up camps so quickly… why did it take so long for them to help us?”

The second is from George, with whom our church's team spent four days working with on repairing his and his wife’s home that flooded two feet into the second floor… “I was in Vietnam, and I remember detailed plans for the Army to drop relief supplies into rice fields for the citizens, and I remember those drops. You can’t tell me they wouldn’t have been able to do the same for those poor folks at the Convention Center.”

I struggle a lot with the concept of patriotism. I love many things about my country, but I question much of what goes on in its name. Jan and George are patriots, as is the woman outside the New Orleans Convention Center caught on camera saying “We Are American” (Dyson, Come Hell or High Water p.13). Patriots are people who place faith in their government’s ability to respond and protect them in certain life or death situations such as natural disasters or war. The same can be said for a local government. The police and fire departments are established to protect and to serve. Sadly, our government didn’t come near fulfilling those expectations following Hurricane Katrina. Time will only tell as to what happens following the next disaster…

Friday, June 02, 2006

Hugo and Katrina Go Dancing

Life is a funny thing. Sometimes you try to escape hard times by laughing at the memories, only to have the reality boil to the surface of your consciousness years later. Tomorrow I leave for Pearlington, MS, a small town (pop. 1684) dead in the path of Hurricane Katrina. In fact, this hamlet with no mayor and a ravaged volunteer fire department was the exact location of Katrina's third landfall.

By Sunday night I'll be brought back to my childhood, not the location, but devastation. While incomparable, I'll never forget the aftermath of Hurricane Hugo, which brought it's 160 mph winds through my hometown of Mount Pleasant, SC.

I'll never forget being huddled with my parents in the dingy bathroom of a highway-side motel in Manning, SC screaming, "Daddy pray louder," hoping our cries for God to save us would drown out the commotion and the sound of the roof peeling from above our heads.

I'll never get the day-long drive home (normally 1 and 1/2 hours) where Mom and I waited in the car while my dad and others bore chainsaws to clear the road ahead.

I'll never forget communing at Second Presbyterian Church in Charleston the day after we returned, praying and listening to the sound of the building falling in around us. I'll always cherish the picture of the impromptu and unsafe worship service in the next day's newspaper.

Being out of school for a month in October isn't as fun as it sounds, even when you're 7. Living without water or electricity for weeks isn't either, especially when the neighborhood behind you has its power restored over a week before you do (still a little bitter about that one)! Being mandated by a national guard curfew to stay in your home after nightfall is the antithesis of liberation...

However, the "save the meat" cookouts with neighbors under the brightest of starry nights, family gatherings at Mimi's house, smiling volunteers, and simple thankfulness for being alive are some of the most amazing experiences of my life.

We were lucky. We didn't lose our home (only our backyard fence). Our young cat, Buffy, had survived the storm (and amazingly is still going at the age of 18 today).

These are the memories I will take with me to Mississippi. They don't compare to the stories I'll hear or the devastation I'll witness 10 months after Katrina danced her waltz of destruction across the Delta. I say it often... we should learn from our experiences and allow them to inform all that we encounter throughout life. Hopefully my experiences of hurricanes and uncertainty will allow me to empathize with the people we meet. Hopefully they will help me to be a leader to our work team (though I'm the second youngest of 7 going). Once I return I'll try to chronicle some of what I have sees and experienced here.

Some links related to this post...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pearlington,_MS
http://operationeden.blogspot.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Hugo
http://www.secondpresbyterianchurch.org/content.asp?catID=10052

Monday, March 13, 2006

Failing Bracketology

Christmas…

New Years...

Fall's first USC football game...

DMB in Charlotte...

March Madness…

They only come once a year. Few events on the calendar get me as excited to be alive as the NCAA Basketball Tournament. By the end few, if any, are more frustrating.

Can ‘Nova make the Final Four with a banged up Allen Ray (not to be confused with former UConn guard and current Supersonic Ray Allen)?

Can Winthrop really upset Tennessee? Which, I would guess is probably less likely since it's this year's ‘safe’ big upset pick.

Is Michael Wilbon out of his mind or pure genius for picking LSU as a Final Four team?

Bracketology: the science I just can't master.

I’ve been a diligent student for a good 14 years now, dedicating much more effort to acing this week's yearly final than any final exam during my actual college career.

Every year it’s the same… I complete my bracket(s), correct them, change them, and suffer insomnia due to the life-altering questions they inspire.

“Will Wichita State suffer an ‘upset’ at the hands Seton Hall?”

The next few days I’ll listen to ESPN Radio religiously, praying to the God of Andy Katz that I might get a scoop on the insurmountable strength of some mid-major’s veteran backcourt. Because we all know the teams with good guards have an advantage…

In the end my analysis is futile. By Friday night I’ll join millions of frustrated hoops fans who can't understand why the ditzy Administrative Assistant is beating them in their office pool. Left floundering in 413,089th place in ESPN’s Tournament Challenge I'll look back at my brackets and lament the fact that my Monday morning "pre-obsession" bracket was the most accurate. So it goes.

Stressful

Time-consuming

Self-defeating

March Madness, it’s the most wonderful time of the year!



Brought to you by: the Coalition for Every Blog in America to Include a Post on March Madness

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Miller's High Life

It's been a while, but I haven't had much to say...



I have to admit, I’ve been pulled onto the US Ski Team bandwagon hook, line, and sinker. And it’s not for the reasons you might expect.

Why would a kid who grew up on the beaches of Charleston do such a thing?

Well, I love skiing, and I do it fairly well. I started at the age of four, the same age at which I was learning to read.

More than many things in life, I love hitting the snow (as I will this weekend) and reaching the bottom of a black diamond with the biggest smile I can manage plastered on my face. The ‘perfect’ run from my standpoint, even if I fell flat on my face. Thankfully that whole "falling" thing doesn’t happen often for me. The older I get, the more it hurts, so I try to avoid it.

On a side note, some friends were trying to talk me into wearing a helmet this weekend, but to be honest, if I go out skiing you can rest assured I was having the time of my life.

When I get to the Alps I’ll wear a helmet.

Moving on…

I respect athletes (hell, people in any profession) who push themselves not to fulfill the expectations of others, but simply for the great feeling they get from doing what they do. It’s why I love my job, and at times am frustrated by it.

Bode Miller does just that and it’s why he’s one of the best, if not the best, skier in the world right now.

I respect people in the vein of Miller who eschew conforming to the standards others have set for them and do what they do because a stirring in their soul, perhaps God, calls them to it. People who strive to live life on their own terms, doing what they love and pursuing it with all their heart. It’s the type of life I strive to live. It’s that mindset that pushes me to play guitar, write, and work toward my current goal of running a marathon.

Lastly, I’m on the bandwagon because several members of the women’s team are near my age and incredibly attractive (example - Julia Mancuso). An attractive woman who can ski well is immediately a medal winner in my book.

I’m honestly looking forward to the Olympics. I always do. This year’s team could be ‘the’ team to oust the dominance of the Austrians. Miller could be the first American male to stand on the medal podium after every race.

The Olympics and the 2006 ski team are good for a nation where there is a bitter divide between ‘right’ and ‘left’. Starting this weekend I for one will gladly turn on the television and alleviate my mind of frequent criticisms of our government, our current leadership, and their policies. Starting this weekend I’ll gladly put aside cynicism to focus on the many aspects of life in our nation of which we all should be proud. And, in the spirit of sport and the Olympic tradition, if not for our hot skiers, I’ll join the chorus of, “USA, USA, USA”.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Westward Road, or "How I Found Grace"

I've decided (maybe) to put more of my creative writing on here and rant less. This was basically a stream of consciousness thrown onto paper with some minor editing afterward. Take it as you may.

1.12.05 12:16pm

In these days of war and peace
I become reconciliation
Running through valleys
Between chains and liberation
And dear if you ever
See my tired face again
Know we had some damn good times
But I finally grew into a man
Once this mountain called me
No friend or foe could bid me stay
Along heavenward trails
I understood the meaning of grace
If by chance you meet me
Along some westward road
Will you pass by or greet me?
With a slap or with a smile?
I can't help but carry onward
From this city beside our creek
I sought long for a perfect love
Yet we never find the things we seek
And if this life gets you weary
Crying out to leave it soon
Remember my philosophy
About lazy afternoons,
If we live for the deadlines
And someone else’s expectations
We'll lose sight of what matters
And become our own rejection
Last night I woke suddenly
To a sound above my head
Was it the sound of ancient laughter?
Did she overcome her dread?
If you ever see the moonlight
Cascade through cypress trees
Will you sleep naked in the glade,
Or will you fear being free?
When the woods around us burned
I thought it was the end
But the stream became our savior
In ways we'll never comprehend
And when mother left us waiting
She should've know we'd break the vase
All children work in mischief
While adults just run the race
I thought my time here was over
If not I'll continue on
Until my guitar returns to earth
And I unlearn her favorite song
Losing track within the railcar
We fell into a daze
While the world around us hastened
Casting others into its maze
Son, will you be my Judas,
Or will you set me free?
Will you desert me with your dry lips,
Or will you let me be?
One day we'll find answers
Along some cragged mountaintop
Where we escaped from the nonsense
And unearthed our worth and stock
All great things have been said before
Still I’ve always felt it’s true
Whatever’s reaped from the soul
Is the truth that makes you new

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Some inspired reflections...

Inspired by Rumi and the Tao Teh Ching...


A lover of the soul knows the questions the lover of only flesh may never see.

What drives my neighbor to grow?
Why does my sister fear?
Why do we ignore the Great Wisdom residing in each of us and instead cherish disunity?
What does my beloved see in me?

One day all questions will come to pass.
Is that day today?

Hope for the future but live for the moment.

Why is humankind scared to die?
Why is its greater fear living?

The Great Commission is truly to love, not to convert.
If only we could see that truth, then peace would thrive.

A lover of the soul asks questions and seeks, yet the Great Paradox accepted is this:
If there is Truth, why are there no answers to my inquiries?

So the soul-minded meditates, prays, and prostrates all life-practices before the Great Unknown.
This mystery penetrates the heart of all who dare to love.
It satisfies.
It terrorizes.
It captivates.
It frees.
It is all things in one and fills the nothing-void within us all.

One day we will see.
But today, let us live each moment attentively and let us do so with love.

1/2/06 1:37am (revised 1/3/05 6:19p)