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| Billie Silvey |
| Giving Yourself: One Person's Experience with Hurricane Katrina |
| By Elizabeth R. Smith Since my arrival nearly three months ago in Alabama and Mississippi to help with the American Red Cross’ work with the Hurricane Katrina disaster, I have been frustrated and surprised. It was only two days after the horrific onslaught of Hurricane Katrina that I was settling into a new school year as a journalism professor at Pepperdine University. I listened to and read the early news reports of the hurricane’s destruction with a detached interest, curious about how I could work the topic into that evening’s class lecture—after all, my students would spend the semester learning how to cover breaking news and write about natural disasters. Only two days after Hurricane Katrina hit, the world and I had no idea of the horror that would quickly follow. Then the phone rang. A recent acquaintance, the chapter executive for the American Red Cross in Ventura County, Calif., sounded slightly frantic on the other end of the phone and quickly explained that he needed people skilled in dealing with the media to travel to the Gulf States and help with Red Cross public affairs efforts. My heart soared. Since my early days as newspaper reporter and editor, I have dreamed about working with a non-profit organization on the front lines of the events that shape the world. I have always wanted to help, and I was ready to go. In three days, I was packed and outfitted with hand sanitizer, mud boots, and mosquito repellent--a copy of the Red Cross public affairs handbook tucked under my arm. Soon after I began my work with the Red Cross Public Affairs team, housed in an old Kmart building, I realized the fallout from Katrina had been unlike any the Red Cross has ever handled. The uncertainty about how to deal with a disaster of this magnitude meant there were no rules, only uncharted territory that everyone is still trying to discern. We all know the story. The widespread destruction wiped out complete towns, many of which were already economically hanging by a thread. The rural and remote nature of many of the affected areas made providing relief a challenge and, sometimes, dangerous. The thousands of people who needed assistance were overwhelming, and it seems that the lines of people waiting for aid and the phone calls from those who were stranded never waned. I figured my mission with public affairs would be to help the media get the right information about Red Cross assistance and assist with general Katrina relief. I was right, and I was wrong. Much of my days were spent talking with individual hurricane survivors who are waiting for help but had received none. “Where are you guys?” they would ask. I could only tell them we were on the way. When I worked in the field helping newspaper and television reporters get the information needed for that day’s story and collecting interviews of survivors for stories published on the Red Cross’ website, my work became much more. It was impossible to interview people who swam from their homes to safety, lost family members and watched their communities fall apart, and not get involved on a more human level. My work became less about telling the story and more about helping the story. As I would collect interviews, I would hand out water and Red Cross aid checks; as I spoke with the media, I held the hands of those who were lost among their own. I am frustrated by the fact that, however much assistance was distributed, it never seemed to be enough. By early September, the American Red Cross had nearly 1,000 shelters in Mississippi, Alabama and Florida, and still people called about not having anywhere to turn for help. I continue to be disheartened and saddened by the uncertain nature of the long-term plans for assistance when volunteers leave and news teams move on to other stories. And yet, even in the early days when it seemed relief would never come to the broken Gulf States, an ever-present sense of hope exists and continues to exist. I am surprised, even overwhelmed by the 4,000 volunteers I saw pass through Montgomery and Biloxi headquarters, headed off to help in shelters and with food distribution units. Many volunteers slept for more than three weeks on army cots in shelters, tired but jovial from their days work clearing debris and helping survivors. I am surprised by the kind spirits of the volunteers and staff who seem as excited to meet each other as they are to be a part of the Red Cross. I met Chris Silva, a young journalist from Washington, D.C., who took time off work because he wanted to “just help out.” While staying in a staff shelter in Montgomery, awaiting his deployment to Gulfport, Miss., he helped resuscitate an older volunteer who had passed out in the staff shelter in Montgomery during the night from respiratory problems. Chris spent the whole night with the older man and has kept in contact with him since. I am reminded of Ellen Scarborough, an 80-year-old former newspaper editor from Charlotte, N.C., who has volunteered with the Red Cross since 1991 and has helped out with more than 38 disasters. Ellen arrived in Montgomery the day before Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, and she ran the public affairs desk alone for five days. I am in awe of the positive attitudes of so many survivors I have met in and around Biloxi and Bay St. Louis, Miss. Despite their dire circumstances, they still took the time to inquire about my “foreign accent” and offer a joke or two about being from Los Angeles. Each survivor I met, and there were thousands, had an amazing story they were desperate to share. I could have never imagined the vast supply of food, clothing and medication that I have seen pass through various shelters. But the frustration persists, and the calls for help do not end. By mid-September, I had returned to my safe home and comfortable life. However, there is more to do. Hurricanes and floods following Katrina have shown the world that it is not man’s job to say when is enough. Yet, I pray that I never lose the sense of frustration and surprise that grew simultaneously in my heart and head, and I pray that I will never forget. Elizabeth Smith is a freelance editor, adjunct professor of journalism, active member of the Culver Palms Church of Christ and friend. Those who know of her heart for people in need and the energy she throws into efforts to help were not surprised to hear that she was bound for the Gulf States immediately after the hurricane hit. |
| December 2005 |
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