Pres. Bush was riding high after winning a second term. On 11.04.04, he stated “I earned political capital in the campaign, political capital, and I intend to spend it.” Myself, I was living in Southern Nevada working on a new series of educational publications. As Labor Day Weekend 2005 approached, I looked forward to celebrating my birthday and Pres. Bush geared up for his stay the course campaign in Iraq. On 8.30.05, the news started looping hurricane looting footage from N.O. in heavy rotation, which brought about a sense of apathy.
Then came 9.1.05, the day the world first witnessed thousands of environmental refugees agonizing at the Superdome and Morial Convention Center. Many asked how could this happen in America? Others saw resemblances to America’s antebellum past. Either way a tectonic shift in global public opinion occurred, and somebody had to pay. It did not take long before Pres. Bush received a margin call on his “political capital” account, while Dems bought up political default swap policies on the GOP. My analytic mind kept me out of the blame game. I felt it was not that simple. In the meantime I just kept watching…
M. Darryl Woods, Lead Researcher
thecontraflow@yahoo.com
We were all fascinated by the amazing feat of Capt. C.B. Sullenberger aboard US Airways Flight 1549, credited with saving at least 150 lives. Even more publicized but less appreciated was the role of the neighborhood, local, state, federal and military responders, who in a direct and indirect way saved thousands of lives during the first week of Hurricane Katrina. Unfortunately, because of the political storm that developed on Pennsylvania Ave. during the peak of the rescue effort, thousands of responders were painted with a broad “unacceptable” stroke.
After forty-five months of Katrina research, we now feel this characterization could not be further from the truth and plan to prove it by publishing the forthcoming epic entitled: CONTRAFLOW: Six Degrees of Separation Following Hurricane Katrina, the Greater New Orleans Flood, and the Second Evacuation. The ‘Six Degrees’ represents our theory that the average flood victim was rescued six times: flooded 1-story > neighbor’s two-story > school bldg > elevated hwy > major collection point > airport / bus staging area > host city shelters. It is our goal to educate the American public on what it was really like in SE Louisiana during Katrina without the use of blame tactics, demographic stereotyping, political agendas and media sensationalism. America needed a hero like Capt. Sully. Having said that he followed in the footsteps of thousands who were deployed to the Gulf Coast during Katrina to save lives while others were trying to get out or stay clear.
M. Darryl Woods, Lead Researcher
thecontraflow@yahoo.com
It’s Saturday, 9.3.05. I am still tuned in, but feeling numb to this life and death reality show ratings bonanza. The television is now focused on Louis B. Armstrong International Airport, where they appear to be flying evacuees out to Houston or somewhere. I then switch back to NBC and see Campbell Brown interviewing this little boy named Charlie at the Morial Convention Center. He was looking out for his grandma and great aunt I believe. This young man would go on to say something that would haunt me, “we just need some help out here, it’s so pitiful, what we going to do”. After a week of nonstop viewership, listenership and readership, I was overwhelmed and just lost it for a minute. All I could think of was that immortal scene from a Good Times episode when Esther Rolle’s character “Florida Evans” found out James Amos’ character “James Evans” was dead, “…damn, daamn, daaamn!”. I decided to step back, so I crossed the street and went inside the Texas Station Hotel Casino in North Las Vegas and attempted to do some unwinding and celebrating, for it was my birthday. But, I could not get what that little boy said to Campbell Brown out of my head. It was then I began to strategize on how I would support the relief effort. I began preparing to shut everything down and head to Galveston and Houston to volunteer. I felt like I was joining the Peace Corps. I just could not sit out here in my home at the corner of Lake Mead Blvd. & Rancho Dr. and continue to watch what I considered at the time to be a genocide. I had to do something. I had to go…
M. Darryl Woods, Literary Responder
thecontraflow@yahoo.com
Another sleepless night on the Internet searching for news stories, blog postings and first-hand accounts. It was like the entire (original) O.J. Simpson Trial crammed into four days. The hot desert sun rose again. It was now Friday, September 2, 2005, and I was back at it looking for more info monitoring all three networks for breaking news and local AM radio stations. Then out of nowhere I heard New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin’s voice. His WWL-AM interview from the night before was re-broadcast for the world to hear. He was going off. His final words were embedded into my brain “…don’t tell me 40,000 people are coming here. They’re not here. It’s too doggone late. Now get off your asses and do something, and let’s fix the biggest goddamn crisis in the history of this country.” I thought the Mayor was talking to me. This is when I first began thinking about what I could do from Southern Nevada to help. This was unbelievable. This is so sad…
M. Darryl Woods, Literary Responder
thecontraflow@yahoo.com
Spent most of last night trying to follow what was happening in New Orleans on the Internet. It was the same old news. It was almost like an information vacuum. Where were the rest of the people? I had finally gone to bed. It was now around 10:00 am PDT on Thursday, 9.1.05. Then it happened. In the rush to feed the appetites of a global audience, including myself, MSNBC turned its photo-journalist Tony Zumbado into a reporter and put him on the air live. He had just come from a tour of the Morial Convention Center, and began to describe to the world what he saw. As he gave a heart wrenching account of what he saw inside the convention center, the news producers were rolling tape of what he and his sound man shot and recorded earlier.
My heart just dropped. I could not believe what I was seeing. It was like I was witnessing a slow agonizing death, live and in living color. I immediately saw a relationship between the “looping looters” and the disaster victims whose ages appeared to range from newborn to centenarians. The so-called looters were feeding the people, filling in the void left by the “normal” relief agencies. It was like I was looking at Mogadishu file footage. Refugees in America. “Please help us!” “We need food!” “Where’s the Mayor?”
M. Darryl Woods, Literally Responder
thecontraflow@yahoo.com
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