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Cover Story: Blown Away in the Big Easy Hurricane Response Team:
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Geoffrey Stokes '07 is a creative writing major from Haddonfield, N.J. As a writer and member of the hurricane response team, he wrote this personal essay reflecting on his experiences in Louisiana. An alternate version of the essay first appeared in the editorial section of The Crusader on January 26, 2006. |
The Lives Behind the Tragedy
On our relief team's first day surveying the devastated parishes of New Orleans, we drove by countless homes torn from their very foundations -- communities reduced to broken shells of collapsed roofs, uprooted trees, and upside-down cars. It was humbling, disheartening and ultimately dumbfounding. So why is it that even after seeing entire neighborhoods all but wiped out, did nearly every member of the team take special, shocked note of a ruined McDonald's sign? It was for the same reason that a teddy bear caked in mud, a CD collection scattered across the street, or a tattered prom dress affected us so deeply.
When we started seeing fragments of our own lives buried in that mud, we stopped seeing destruction and started seeing people. All of a sudden a broken Walkman on the ground became the common denominator, blurring the line between me and a family living in a FEMA trailer.
In that sense the New Orleans devastation will, to me, always be about a middle-aged woman named Rita from St. Bernard Parish. A stout woman with short brown hair, Rita had no qualms about putting on work gloves and rubber boots and joining us in the seemingly insurmountable task of cleaning out her flooded house. We shoveled through six inches of muck that covered the floors, cleared out rotting furniture and cabinets, and knocked down mold-ridden dry wall. Through this I saw Rita's life: Playskool toys for her grandchildren, wedding plates, her husband's Skeet trophies, even a collection of Barry Manilow cassettes.
And on the last day the team spent at her house, Rita wept. Not merely because she'd miss us, or because her house was now gutted and ready for repair. There was a silent acknowledgement that something profound had happened that week. A connection was made. It was exactly what I needed, what we all needed, to have the motivation to continue to help -- a human face for a human tragedy.
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Three amigos |
 Water did this |
 No bargains here |
Katrina didn't |
 These once were docks |
 Hurricane economics |
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