The other night, President Bush made his State of the Union address to a joint session of congress. The Constitution requires the president to give this annual report to congress. Although it does not specify that it must be in the form of a speech, since the advent of mass communications, presidents have been taking advantage of the occasion to look and act like leaders. The Current Occupant is no exception.
But before I offer my comments on the president’s recent speech, let me first remind everyone of what the president said in the past. President Bush gave a nationally televised speech from New Orleans back on September 15, 2005. Not that long ago when you think about it.
Here’s some of what he said and pledged back then:
“Tonight so many victims of the hurricane and the flood are far from home and friends and familiar things. You need to know that our whole nation cares about you, and in the journey ahead you're not alone…
“And tonight I also offer this pledge of the American people: Throughout the area hit by the hurricane, we will do what it takes, we will stay as long as it takes, to help citizens rebuild their communities and their lives. And all who question the future of the Crescent City need to know there is no way to imagine America without New Orleans, and this great city will rise again…
“In the task of recovery and rebuilding, some of the hardest work is still ahead, and it will require the creative skill and generosity of a united country…
“And the federal government will undertake a close partnership with the states of Louisiana and Mississippi, the city of New Orleans, and other Gulf Coast cities, so they can rebuild in a sensible, well-planned way. Federal funds will cover the great majority of the costs of repairing public infrastructure in the disaster zone, from roads and bridges to schools and water systems. Our goal is to get the work done quickly…
“When one resident of this city who lost his home was asked by a reporter if he would relocate, he said, "Naw, I will rebuild -- but I will build higher." That is our vision for the future, in this city and beyond: We'll not just rebuild, we'll build higher and better…
“In the long run, the New Orleans area has a particular challenge, because much of the city lies below sea level. The people who call it home need to have reassurance that their lives will be safer in the years to come. Protecting a city that sits lower than the water around it is not easy, but it can, and has been done. City and parish officials in New Orleans, and state officials in Louisiana will have a large part in the engineering decisions to come. And the Army Corps of Engineers will work at their side to make the flood protection system stronger than it has ever been…
“The work that has begun in the Gulf Coast region will be one of the largest reconstruction efforts the world has ever seen. When that job is done, all Americans will have something to be very proud of -- and all Americans are needed in this common effort…
“The government of this nation will do its part, as well. Our cities must have clear and up-to-date plans for responding to natural disasters, and disease outbreaks, or a terrorist attack, for evacuating large numbers of people in an emergency, and for providing the food and water and security they would need…
“In the life of this nation, we have often been reminded that nature is an awesome force, and that all life is fragile. We're the heirs of men and women who lived through those first terrible winters at Jamestown and Plymouth, who rebuilt Chicago after a great fire, and San Francisco after a great earthquake, who reclaimed the prairie from the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Every time, the people of this land have come back from fire, flood, and storm to build anew -- and to build better than what we had before. Americans have never left our destiny to the whims of nature -- and we will not start now.
“And here in New Orleans, the street cars will once again rumble down St. Charles, and the passionate soul of a great city will return…”
Those were encouraging, almost visionary words President Bush spoke from Jackson Square. I was still evacuated in Virginia that night, and I daresay that speech was perhaps the most heartening thing I’d heard since the hurricane hit.
And now, 17 months later, with tens of thousands of us still “far from home and friends and familiar things,” what does the president have to say about the hurricane-ravaged Gulf Coast and New Orleans? Click on the link to hear:
President Bush on the topic of New Orleans, State of the Union Address, January 23, 2007.
Okay, so now it’s official: we’re on our own. I guess I should have known better than to take President Bush at his word when he pledged on national TV, “we will do what it takes, we will stay as long as it takes.”
I guess I should have known better than to actually take a politician at his word.
So looking at the big picture, perhaps it’s better that the president did NOT say anything about New Orleans. It would have been all lies anyway.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query So now it's official. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query So now it's official. Sort by date Show all posts
Friday, January 26, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The struggle to understand the struggle
There's an old saying that the lawyer who defends himself in court represents a fool. I wonder if this axiom can also be applied to psychoanalysis?
Because even though I'm no psychiatrist, I've been trying to psychoanalyze myself some lately. Dangerous territory to be sure.
I've noticed that recently my reading list has been almost exclusively about tragedies. I've always enjoyed history, especially American history, but now it's become almost obsessive.
Late last year I read Flags of our Fathers, which was recently made into a movie by Clint Eastwood. It's the story of the invasion of Iwo Jima and that most famous photograph of all time of six men raising the flag on the splintered volcanic rock of Mount Suribachi. The book was written by the son of one of those men, a Navy corpsman who by all accounts was incredibly brave and effective throughout the weeks of battle.
And this son, one of several children born after the war and raised in a loving home, knew almost nothing about his father's fame. You would think a hero such as one of the flag raisers immortalized in the photograph, and later in the largest bronze statue in the world, would be proud to talk about his service to his country and his accomplishments under fire.
But he did not. He barely spoke of the war even to his own children, with the result that it was not until after he died that his own children learned that he had received the Navy Cross, an award that is second only to the Medal of Honor.
The book is the result of his son's investigation into what his father really did on Iwo Jima and why he almost never spoke of it. And without spoiling the book for anyone, the simple answer is this: horror. What those young men did and saw and participated in on Iwo Jima were some of the most frightening and awful events in military history. It was not just a few terrifying hours or days of battle. Iwo Jima devoured the lives of the fighting men sent there for a full month, day after day devouring young lives and feeding on the refusal of the Japanese to give up the futile battle. The horror they experienced chewed at the survivors for the rest of their lives.
It was, I must report, a thoroughly enjoyable book.
Soon after that, I read In Harm's Way, an account of the sinking of the USS Indianapolis, the ship that is remembered in history as the ship that crossed the Pacific Ocean in record time to deliver the first atomic bomb to the air base on Tinian Island. It is also famous as the ship that was either overlooked or forgotten a few days later and was sunk by a Japanese torpedo in the shark-infested waters of the south Pacific. The book is the story of how about 900 men went into the water, but just 317 were rescued four days later when the Navy finally realized a ship was missing. This, too, was a book about the horrors of war, and in this case, the chewing was not metaphorical.
Most recently I read 102 Minutes, a change of pace of sorts from my prior reading. This one was about what went on inside the World Trade Center towers on September 11 during the 102 minutes between when the first plane hit and when the last tower collapsed. Through interviews with survivors, official transcripts of 911 calls, police and fire department radio recordings, and from accounts of the final emails and phone calls of those who would not survive the day, the book recounts the struggle of people trapped and rescuers who tried to save them. Ultimately, many of the rescuers themselves became victims of the attack.
And now I'm reading The Killer Angels, another war story, but this time historical fiction about the Battle of Gettysburg.
I've enjoyed them all.
So here is where I take to the couch and begin to ask myself probing, personal questions: How can I, a resident of flood-ravaged New Orleans, find pleasure in reading about these tragedies? Why am I not reading "happy" books, like The Cat who Came for Christmas or Confederacy of Dunces? You know, books that make you laugh or fill you with the warm glow of human kindness?
The answer I've come up with is based in part on a movie review I read many years ago. In the 1970's, there was a succession of popular disaster movies, including "The Poseidon Adventure," "Earthquake" and "The Towering Inferno." A reviewer at the time wondered how it was that Americans, weathering the oil crisis and stagflation among other things, would want to see such movies. Movie houses were, after all, a place to escape from every day life and its problems. So why the fascination with disaster films?
The reviewer postulated that such movies were appealing because the disasters they depicted were always an order of magnitude worse than what anyone in the audience was experiencing. Disaster movies not only validated the struggle of human existence, but also were reassuring that things were not as bad as they could be.
Perhaps movie-goers walked out of the theater thinking, "Man, I'm glad I don't have to deal with that." And in contrast, they felt better about their lives and their struggles.
This is my amateur self-psychoanalysis then: perhaps when I read about soldiers, sailors and Marines dying in war or innocent people being murdered on 9-11, it makes me feel better about our situation here in New Orleans. Perhaps it helps me cope, to somehow appreciate what we have here.
As long as I'm pretending to be a competent psychoanalyst, I will further suggest that it is not the struggle that is most difficult here in New Orleans. Hard work is simply hard work, and for many, the hard work we've been pressed to do as a result of Hurricane Katrina is no more or less difficult than any other work anywhere else in this world.
The more daunting struggle here is to understand the struggle. How could we let this happen? What did we do to deserve this? How are we going to get out of this mess? What could we have done differently? What should we do differently in the future?
These are the questions that push people over the edge. When you hear about people snapping under the pressure, succumbing to the conditions here, it's not the hard work that's getting to them.
Okay, enough for now. I'm hopping off the couch, going back to being an engineer, husband and father. And I'm going back to my books, too. Generals Lee and Longstreet are riding toward Gettysburg and the first day of the battle, and I already know that General Pickett will get his moment of bloody glory on the battlefield in a charge that will eclipse all his prior brave deeds.
Because even though I'm no psychiatrist, I've been trying to psychoanalyze myself some lately. Dangerous territory to be sure.
I've noticed that recently my reading list has been almost exclusively about tragedies. I've always enjoyed history, especially American history, but now it's become almost obsessive.
Late last year I read Flags of our Fathers, which was recently made into a movie by Clint Eastwood. It's the story of the invasion of Iwo Jima and that most famous photograph of all time of six men raising the flag on the splintered volcanic rock of Mount Suribachi. The book was written by the son of one of those men, a Navy corpsman who by all accounts was incredibly brave and effective throughout the weeks of battle.
And this son, one of several children born after the war and raised in a loving home, knew almost nothing about his father's fame. You would think a hero such as one of the flag raisers immortalized in the photograph, and later in the largest bronze statue in the world, would be proud to talk about his service to his country and his accomplishments under fire.
But he did not. He barely spoke of the war even to his own children, with the result that it was not until after he died that his own children learned that he had received the Navy Cross, an award that is second only to the Medal of Honor.
The book is the result of his son's investigation into what his father really did on Iwo Jima and why he almost never spoke of it. And without spoiling the book for anyone, the simple answer is this: horror. What those young men did and saw and participated in on Iwo Jima were some of the most frightening and awful events in military history. It was not just a few terrifying hours or days of battle. Iwo Jima devoured the lives of the fighting men sent there for a full month, day after day devouring young lives and feeding on the refusal of the Japanese to give up the futile battle. The horror they experienced chewed at the survivors for the rest of their lives.
It was, I must report, a thoroughly enjoyable book.
Soon after that, I read In Harm's Way, an account of the sinking of the USS Indianapolis, the ship that is remembered in history as the ship that crossed the Pacific Ocean in record time to deliver the first atomic bomb to the air base on Tinian Island. It is also famous as the ship that was either overlooked or forgotten a few days later and was sunk by a Japanese torpedo in the shark-infested waters of the south Pacific. The book is the story of how about 900 men went into the water, but just 317 were rescued four days later when the Navy finally realized a ship was missing. This, too, was a book about the horrors of war, and in this case, the chewing was not metaphorical.
Most recently I read 102 Minutes, a change of pace of sorts from my prior reading. This one was about what went on inside the World Trade Center towers on September 11 during the 102 minutes between when the first plane hit and when the last tower collapsed. Through interviews with survivors, official transcripts of 911 calls, police and fire department radio recordings, and from accounts of the final emails and phone calls of those who would not survive the day, the book recounts the struggle of people trapped and rescuers who tried to save them. Ultimately, many of the rescuers themselves became victims of the attack.
And now I'm reading The Killer Angels, another war story, but this time historical fiction about the Battle of Gettysburg.
I've enjoyed them all.
So here is where I take to the couch and begin to ask myself probing, personal questions: How can I, a resident of flood-ravaged New Orleans, find pleasure in reading about these tragedies? Why am I not reading "happy" books, like The Cat who Came for Christmas or Confederacy of Dunces? You know, books that make you laugh or fill you with the warm glow of human kindness?
The answer I've come up with is based in part on a movie review I read many years ago. In the 1970's, there was a succession of popular disaster movies, including "The Poseidon Adventure," "Earthquake" and "The Towering Inferno." A reviewer at the time wondered how it was that Americans, weathering the oil crisis and stagflation among other things, would want to see such movies. Movie houses were, after all, a place to escape from every day life and its problems. So why the fascination with disaster films?
The reviewer postulated that such movies were appealing because the disasters they depicted were always an order of magnitude worse than what anyone in the audience was experiencing. Disaster movies not only validated the struggle of human existence, but also were reassuring that things were not as bad as they could be.
Perhaps movie-goers walked out of the theater thinking, "Man, I'm glad I don't have to deal with that." And in contrast, they felt better about their lives and their struggles.
This is my amateur self-psychoanalysis then: perhaps when I read about soldiers, sailors and Marines dying in war or innocent people being murdered on 9-11, it makes me feel better about our situation here in New Orleans. Perhaps it helps me cope, to somehow appreciate what we have here.
As long as I'm pretending to be a competent psychoanalyst, I will further suggest that it is not the struggle that is most difficult here in New Orleans. Hard work is simply hard work, and for many, the hard work we've been pressed to do as a result of Hurricane Katrina is no more or less difficult than any other work anywhere else in this world.
The more daunting struggle here is to understand the struggle. How could we let this happen? What did we do to deserve this? How are we going to get out of this mess? What could we have done differently? What should we do differently in the future?
These are the questions that push people over the edge. When you hear about people snapping under the pressure, succumbing to the conditions here, it's not the hard work that's getting to them.
Okay, enough for now. I'm hopping off the couch, going back to being an engineer, husband and father. And I'm going back to my books, too. Generals Lee and Longstreet are riding toward Gettysburg and the first day of the battle, and I already know that General Pickett will get his moment of bloody glory on the battlefield in a charge that will eclipse all his prior brave deeds.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
RT4: Sinking to New Heights
As further proof that we in New Orleans are “Sinking to New Heights,” a group of NOLA Bloggers and others who love New Orleans gathered for the our fourth annual conference on the future of our fair city week. Rising Tide IV was, by all accounts and metrics, a huge success.
For the second year, we gathered at the Zeitgeist Multidisciplinary Arts Center on Oretha Castle Haley Blvd on Saturday, August 22. It was a clear and warm day, just right for incubating good thoughts and hatching plans for the new New Orleans. Several speakers and panel discussions ensued to the great delight of all in attendance.
I did not bring by laptop because I knew I would have a hard time sitting in one place all day. I knew I would be moving around talking to friends and fellow bloggers I hadn’t seen in a while, meeting new Internet intermediaries, and of course, helping out here and there as needed since I was on the organizing committee.
So I tried something I’ve never done before: I covered the whole day of activities using Twitter. If you use the hashtag #rt4 you can see all the tweets from me and others who were madly trying to capture the action in reports of 140 characters or less. It was a challenge, but at least I didn’t have to sit in one place all day.
Favorite moments, many captured in tweets throughout the day:
* Author Susan Tucker on the Culture Panel reads an obituary that made reference to the deceased person’s favorite foods and love of cooking. In New Orleans, it really is all about the food.
* Also during the Culture Panel discussion, Ed Buckner observing, “We as a society need to embrace each other just as we embrace the music.” The crowd applauds the radical wisdom of that statement.
* Adrastos, moderator of the Politics Panel, introducing a question about Senator David Vitter by referring to him as, “a human cockroach, which makes him the Keith Richards of Louisiana politics.” (Some would later complain that the panels and indeed the whole conference were loaded with liberals. Thus insulting comments about David Vitter and other Republicans were all too common and obviously popular with the crowd. Okay, conservative bloggers, join us next year and show us what we’re missing.)
* Clancy DuBos from The Gambit newspaper and WWL-TV, comfortably using everyday curse words in his descriptions of how bad things are in NOLA and the political problems we face. Even their own Twitter reporter, @The_Gambit, had to comment on that one: “I think the Rising Tide crowd is amused to hear Clancy cuss like he can't do on @WWLTV.” To me it was a rare show of respect for bloggers from a venerated journalist—talking with us as would neighbors across the fence.
* Leigh, Sharon and Lisa, working tirelessly, selflessly and happily all day at the front table. I helped direct traffic for a bit at the front door, and I just loved overhearing Sharon call friends and strangers alike, “Honey” and “Baby.” We don’t pay them for this and let me tell you, it’s a good thing because we couldn’t afford it.
* Loki, the official emcee of the day, started us off with a Prayer to caffeine. I didn’t write it all down, but it was something along the lines of, “Caffeine is my shepherd, I shall not doze. It maketh me to wake in green pastures. It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses. It restoreth my buzz.” Loki lit the place up from the moment he took the stage. I would not be surprised to learn that he had been up all the night before drinking espresso and eating chocolate covered coffee beans.
* I wish I could say it was my idea to ask him to head up the program this year, but all I can say is I was one of the unanimous and enthusiastic organizers who said, “Hell yes!” when it was suggested. We’ve already asked him back next year.
* I spent a few minutes chatting with Ethan Brown about his new book, “Shake the Devil Off,” which has been getting great press recently in The Gambit and the local daily. After explaining the subject of his book is the true story of a tortured soul who kills his girlfriend and himself probably because of PTSD from service in Iraq and riding out Hurricane Katrina, I tell Ethan it sounds like a great story. But, I add, I don’t think I will be reading it because it sounds really, really depressing. Ethan is so nice--he doesn’t try to talk me into it. He agrees that it’s a very depressing tale.
* Loki, again showering us with his in-your-face energy, led the audience in shouting out the true meaning of FYYFF following the presentation of the Ashley Morris Award, named after the man who made FYYFF so important to the NOLA Bloggers.
* Finally got to see Patches, the most famous ramshackle rust bucket of a truck on the NOLA Blogosphere, being made less rusty and ramshackley (is that a word? I guess it is now) each week under the love and sweat of Clay, proprietor of NolaDishu. Clay showed me Patches with the pride of a father, explaining all the oddities that made his old red truck so dear to him. Still a lot of work remaining, but I’m thinking Clay is up to the task.
* Our keynote speaker Harry Shearer gave a heartfelt, motivational presentation. One of my favorite quotes was, “If you fight water, water always wins. We need to learn to live with water.” Would have loved if someone from City Hall or any of the spineless politicians who are letting New Orleans be rebuilt in exactly the same ill-planned manner could have heard that.
* Lunch! We got catering from Café Reconcile which is right across the street from Zeitgeist. I had white beans and rice, greens, spicy corn bread and sweet tea. My yat came out strong after eatin dat—yeah you rite.
* Dr. Elmore Rigamer, speaking as part of the Health Care Panel, wonders, “Is New Orleans insane because of Nagin, or is Nagin insane because of New Orleans?” Nobody seemed to have an answer to that one.
* Chris Wiseman represents for the legions of loyal and outlandish Saints fans on the Sports Panel. He shows off a couple of homemade outfits worn to the Dome on game day. Wiseman notes that the decorated costumes worn by fans of other teams commemorate trophies and titles and winning streaks, but his outfit memorializes losses in the Saints family. That includes Ashley Morris, Buddy D, and Sam Mills. The point is clear: Saints fandom transcends success in the game and draws its power instead from the strength of the fan community.
* Skooks, local blogger and Sports Panel moderator, cannily observes, “The four seasons in New Orleans are Carnival, Festival, Hurricane, and Football.” Did he forget one? Here’s hoping one day there will be a Rising Tide season!
All in all a great day. Plans are already begun for Rising Tide V. See you there next year!
For the second year, we gathered at the Zeitgeist Multidisciplinary Arts Center on Oretha Castle Haley Blvd on Saturday, August 22. It was a clear and warm day, just right for incubating good thoughts and hatching plans for the new New Orleans. Several speakers and panel discussions ensued to the great delight of all in attendance.
I did not bring by laptop because I knew I would have a hard time sitting in one place all day. I knew I would be moving around talking to friends and fellow bloggers I hadn’t seen in a while, meeting new Internet intermediaries, and of course, helping out here and there as needed since I was on the organizing committee.
So I tried something I’ve never done before: I covered the whole day of activities using Twitter. If you use the hashtag #rt4 you can see all the tweets from me and others who were madly trying to capture the action in reports of 140 characters or less. It was a challenge, but at least I didn’t have to sit in one place all day.
Favorite moments, many captured in tweets throughout the day:
* Author Susan Tucker on the Culture Panel reads an obituary that made reference to the deceased person’s favorite foods and love of cooking. In New Orleans, it really is all about the food.
* Also during the Culture Panel discussion, Ed Buckner observing, “We as a society need to embrace each other just as we embrace the music.” The crowd applauds the radical wisdom of that statement.
* Adrastos, moderator of the Politics Panel, introducing a question about Senator David Vitter by referring to him as, “a human cockroach, which makes him the Keith Richards of Louisiana politics.” (Some would later complain that the panels and indeed the whole conference were loaded with liberals. Thus insulting comments about David Vitter and other Republicans were all too common and obviously popular with the crowd. Okay, conservative bloggers, join us next year and show us what we’re missing.)
* Clancy DuBos from The Gambit newspaper and WWL-TV, comfortably using everyday curse words in his descriptions of how bad things are in NOLA and the political problems we face. Even their own Twitter reporter, @The_Gambit, had to comment on that one: “I think the Rising Tide crowd is amused to hear Clancy cuss like he can't do on @WWLTV.” To me it was a rare show of respect for bloggers from a venerated journalist—talking with us as would neighbors across the fence.
* Leigh, Sharon and Lisa, working tirelessly, selflessly and happily all day at the front table. I helped direct traffic for a bit at the front door, and I just loved overhearing Sharon call friends and strangers alike, “Honey” and “Baby.” We don’t pay them for this and let me tell you, it’s a good thing because we couldn’t afford it.
* Loki, the official emcee of the day, started us off with a Prayer to caffeine. I didn’t write it all down, but it was something along the lines of, “Caffeine is my shepherd, I shall not doze. It maketh me to wake in green pastures. It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses. It restoreth my buzz.” Loki lit the place up from the moment he took the stage. I would not be surprised to learn that he had been up all the night before drinking espresso and eating chocolate covered coffee beans.
* I wish I could say it was my idea to ask him to head up the program this year, but all I can say is I was one of the unanimous and enthusiastic organizers who said, “Hell yes!” when it was suggested. We’ve already asked him back next year.
* I spent a few minutes chatting with Ethan Brown about his new book, “Shake the Devil Off,” which has been getting great press recently in The Gambit and the local daily. After explaining the subject of his book is the true story of a tortured soul who kills his girlfriend and himself probably because of PTSD from service in Iraq and riding out Hurricane Katrina, I tell Ethan it sounds like a great story. But, I add, I don’t think I will be reading it because it sounds really, really depressing. Ethan is so nice--he doesn’t try to talk me into it. He agrees that it’s a very depressing tale.
* Loki, again showering us with his in-your-face energy, led the audience in shouting out the true meaning of FYYFF following the presentation of the Ashley Morris Award, named after the man who made FYYFF so important to the NOLA Bloggers.
* Finally got to see Patches, the most famous ramshackle rust bucket of a truck on the NOLA Blogosphere, being made less rusty and ramshackley (is that a word? I guess it is now) each week under the love and sweat of Clay, proprietor of NolaDishu. Clay showed me Patches with the pride of a father, explaining all the oddities that made his old red truck so dear to him. Still a lot of work remaining, but I’m thinking Clay is up to the task.
* Our keynote speaker Harry Shearer gave a heartfelt, motivational presentation. One of my favorite quotes was, “If you fight water, water always wins. We need to learn to live with water.” Would have loved if someone from City Hall or any of the spineless politicians who are letting New Orleans be rebuilt in exactly the same ill-planned manner could have heard that.
* Lunch! We got catering from Café Reconcile which is right across the street from Zeitgeist. I had white beans and rice, greens, spicy corn bread and sweet tea. My yat came out strong after eatin dat—yeah you rite.
* Dr. Elmore Rigamer, speaking as part of the Health Care Panel, wonders, “Is New Orleans insane because of Nagin, or is Nagin insane because of New Orleans?” Nobody seemed to have an answer to that one.
* Chris Wiseman represents for the legions of loyal and outlandish Saints fans on the Sports Panel. He shows off a couple of homemade outfits worn to the Dome on game day. Wiseman notes that the decorated costumes worn by fans of other teams commemorate trophies and titles and winning streaks, but his outfit memorializes losses in the Saints family. That includes Ashley Morris, Buddy D, and Sam Mills. The point is clear: Saints fandom transcends success in the game and draws its power instead from the strength of the fan community.
* Skooks, local blogger and Sports Panel moderator, cannily observes, “The four seasons in New Orleans are Carnival, Festival, Hurricane, and Football.” Did he forget one? Here’s hoping one day there will be a Rising Tide season!
All in all a great day. Plans are already begun for Rising Tide V. See you there next year!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Less than 8 inches of water
That much water would just cover your ankles. That much water would barely be enough to float a flatboat.
And that's how much water the MRGO contributes to hurricane storm surge.
I know it's incredibly popular to say that St. Bernard and the Lower Ninth Ward flooded because of the evil Mississippi River Gulf Outlet. I know that the press, politicians and people from all over blame the MRGO for the catastrophic flooding that occurred there, but the science of the situation says otherwise.
Everything I write now is detailed in a paper titled, "Note on the Influence of the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet on Hurricane Induced Storm Surge in New Orleans and Vicinity." You can read if for yourself here.
Both before and after Katrina, engineers and scientists investigated the impacts of the MRGO on hurricane protection. Using the latest computer modeling and laser surveying techniques, they ran a variety of hurricanes through a digital rendering of southeast Louisiana. They ran the existing conditions, and then they ran the model with the MRGO completely filled to marsh elevation. They also ran it with a gate closure at the southern end of the MRGO. They ran hurricane models that mimicked Betsy, Katrina and other historical and synthetic storms.
And here is the result: the difference in storm surge with the MRGO was, at most, less than 8 inches. In most places, the difference was less than 4 inches.
Hardly a smoking gun, is it?
The primary author of the paper I refer to is Dr. Joannes Westerink of Notre Dame, a worldwide authority in hydraulic modeling. It is part of the government's official IPET investigation of what went wrong in hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
I expect critics of the Corps and the IPET investigation will want to dismiss this report as a whitewash of the effects of the MRGO. But they should know that the Louisiana Department of Natural Resources, often at odds with the Corps of Engineers, conducted their own model runs and came up with almost identical results.
How can this be? How can The Times-Picayune and public perception be so far off from the reality?
Well, part of the problem is simply a lack of understanding of hurricanes and hydraulics among the public. And it certainly doesn't help when newspapers and politicians jump on the bandwagon to ride public opinion for profit and populism. We all need to learn more before we form opinions on important matters.
Part of the blame falls on the Corps of Engineers, too. The Corps has not done a good job of educating their customers, the American public, about what they do and why they do it. The paper I cite is an example of this lack of communication and engagement with the public. Why haven't these findings been more prominently announced?
I think the average person can grasp why the MRGO contributes less than 8 inches to large storm surges. The simple explanation is that for events like Katrina, the storm surge is so high that water is flowing outside of the channel. When there's 18 feet of water moving toward St. Bernard and New Orleans, it just doesn't matter that there's a shipping channel down at elevation 1 or 2. The water is spread out miles wide in front of an advancing hurricane, so even the 1,000 feet wide MRGO gets lost in the massive storm surge.
Now, I'm not defending the MRGO or saying it should remain. There may well be other problems related to this channel that should be addressed.
What I am saying is that the magnitude of flooding, death and destruction was brought by Hurricane Katrina without the help of or need of assistance from the MRGO.
I think we should be talking about what to do with the MRGO. But let's stick to the facts and listen to the science.
And that's how much water the MRGO contributes to hurricane storm surge.
I know it's incredibly popular to say that St. Bernard and the Lower Ninth Ward flooded because of the evil Mississippi River Gulf Outlet. I know that the press, politicians and people from all over blame the MRGO for the catastrophic flooding that occurred there, but the science of the situation says otherwise.
Everything I write now is detailed in a paper titled, "Note on the Influence of the Mississippi River Gulf Outlet on Hurricane Induced Storm Surge in New Orleans and Vicinity." You can read if for yourself here.
Both before and after Katrina, engineers and scientists investigated the impacts of the MRGO on hurricane protection. Using the latest computer modeling and laser surveying techniques, they ran a variety of hurricanes through a digital rendering of southeast Louisiana. They ran the existing conditions, and then they ran the model with the MRGO completely filled to marsh elevation. They also ran it with a gate closure at the southern end of the MRGO. They ran hurricane models that mimicked Betsy, Katrina and other historical and synthetic storms.
And here is the result: the difference in storm surge with the MRGO was, at most, less than 8 inches. In most places, the difference was less than 4 inches.
Hardly a smoking gun, is it?
The primary author of the paper I refer to is Dr. Joannes Westerink of Notre Dame, a worldwide authority in hydraulic modeling. It is part of the government's official IPET investigation of what went wrong in hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
I expect critics of the Corps and the IPET investigation will want to dismiss this report as a whitewash of the effects of the MRGO. But they should know that the Louisiana Department of Natural Resources, often at odds with the Corps of Engineers, conducted their own model runs and came up with almost identical results.
How can this be? How can The Times-Picayune and public perception be so far off from the reality?
Well, part of the problem is simply a lack of understanding of hurricanes and hydraulics among the public. And it certainly doesn't help when newspapers and politicians jump on the bandwagon to ride public opinion for profit and populism. We all need to learn more before we form opinions on important matters.
Part of the blame falls on the Corps of Engineers, too. The Corps has not done a good job of educating their customers, the American public, about what they do and why they do it. The paper I cite is an example of this lack of communication and engagement with the public. Why haven't these findings been more prominently announced?
I think the average person can grasp why the MRGO contributes less than 8 inches to large storm surges. The simple explanation is that for events like Katrina, the storm surge is so high that water is flowing outside of the channel. When there's 18 feet of water moving toward St. Bernard and New Orleans, it just doesn't matter that there's a shipping channel down at elevation 1 or 2. The water is spread out miles wide in front of an advancing hurricane, so even the 1,000 feet wide MRGO gets lost in the massive storm surge.
Now, I'm not defending the MRGO or saying it should remain. There may well be other problems related to this channel that should be addressed.
What I am saying is that the magnitude of flooding, death and destruction was brought by Hurricane Katrina without the help of or need of assistance from the MRGO.
I think we should be talking about what to do with the MRGO. But let's stick to the facts and listen to the science.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Couple found
The latest official body count from the Louisiana Department of Health and Hospitals is 1,090.
More are being found each week, as The Times-Picayune regularly reports:
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Couple, 97 and 89, are found dead in their Gentilly home
Police think they died after storm
Television portrayed the victims of Katrina to be the historically poor and disenfranchised. But my armchair observation is that the storm hurt and killed mostly the elderly in our community.
These are people who are the least hardy to take on the challenges hurricanes bring. The stress of evacuation, the financial burdens and the deprivation of medical support can be fatal. And just as bad can be the after-effects, such as the physical exertion of trying to salvage belongings and repair homes, the stress of financial insecurity and the suffering from emotional losses.
You can almost understand why so many older Americans did not heed the call to evacuate.
And although the emergency response was phenomenal, the scale of this disaster was just too much. Thousands were rescued in the days after the hurricane passed, by truck, boat, bus, jet-ski and helicopter. Teams of National Guardsmen went through the city, going door-to-door, searching for anyone left behind, helping everyone they could, collecting the bodies of those they could not save. They spay-painted each building to mark their progress through the tens of thousands of destroyed homes and businesses.
As valiantly as they tried, they did not find everyone.
It is now down to the citizens to find the last of Katrina's victims. Family members, friends and contractors, returning to these sodden homes, enter to find the lost and the forgotten where they died. It's been more than three months since Hurricane Katrina rampaged through our city, but the pain of her attack remains.
I write about this not to gross anyone out, but to again try to illustrate the magnitude of this catastrophe.
One thousand ninety dead so far. Of the ones identified, 3 out of 4 came from New Orleans. Less than half of the bodies have been released to families.
More to come.
More are being found each week, as The Times-Picayune regularly reports:
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Couple, 97 and 89, are found dead in their Gentilly home
Police think they died after storm
Television portrayed the victims of Katrina to be the historically poor and disenfranchised. But my armchair observation is that the storm hurt and killed mostly the elderly in our community.
These are people who are the least hardy to take on the challenges hurricanes bring. The stress of evacuation, the financial burdens and the deprivation of medical support can be fatal. And just as bad can be the after-effects, such as the physical exertion of trying to salvage belongings and repair homes, the stress of financial insecurity and the suffering from emotional losses.
You can almost understand why so many older Americans did not heed the call to evacuate.
And although the emergency response was phenomenal, the scale of this disaster was just too much. Thousands were rescued in the days after the hurricane passed, by truck, boat, bus, jet-ski and helicopter. Teams of National Guardsmen went through the city, going door-to-door, searching for anyone left behind, helping everyone they could, collecting the bodies of those they could not save. They spay-painted each building to mark their progress through the tens of thousands of destroyed homes and businesses.
As valiantly as they tried, they did not find everyone.
It is now down to the citizens to find the last of Katrina's victims. Family members, friends and contractors, returning to these sodden homes, enter to find the lost and the forgotten where they died. It's been more than three months since Hurricane Katrina rampaged through our city, but the pain of her attack remains.
I write about this not to gross anyone out, but to again try to illustrate the magnitude of this catastrophe.
One thousand ninety dead so far. Of the ones identified, 3 out of 4 came from New Orleans. Less than half of the bodies have been released to families.
More to come.
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