Katrina: What I Remember

It seems that two days is not nearly enough time to sift through all the stories we need to hear and think about on the second anniversary of the tragedy that was Katrina. But, we're also mindful that we are part of a bigger effort here at NPR. Throughout our news division, there have been several compelling pieces marking this week's anniversary, such as Wade Goodwyn's piece on All Things Considered. He checks in on two Katrina evacuees who now live in Houston.

Also, pay a visit to the News & Notes photo gallery. I also suggest viewing Farai's own photo slide show. They are photos she took when covering the story two years ago.

Rolling back the clock a bit, I remember being in Houston, in the parking lot of the Astrodome with a team from Nightline. It was maybe around 2 a.m. when the first buses of evacuees rolled in (a few people in cars had made their way earlier). To this very day, when I think about it I can't decide whether I want to cry or scream. There were buses of people, many of them mothers and grandmothers shepherding small children. I remember seeing them covered with mosquito bites, some wearing nothing but grimy diapers and T-shirts, clutching one small bottle of water each. They were obviously exhausted, looking dazed. Some of them had spent days at the Superdome, unable to leave. They did not own cars, or had been separated from relatives who did have them. Those who did own vehicles couldn't find gas, or pay for it if they could.

There were people with signs on the sidewalk, standing there all night just to say, welcome, you're safe here. There were doctors working double shifts, nurses coming in on their days off. And then there were Red Cross and other volunteers of all kinds, from all over. They seemed to drop what they were doing to lend a hand -- cook food, sort clothes, distribute games and play with little kids.

Computer technicians strung cable and set up Internet connections to help people find their family members -- on and on, and on.

And, yes, there were jerks. There was the bus driver I saw drop a group of exhausted women and children at the gate to the Astrodome -- a football field away from the entrance -- grumbling, "My shift is over." Nice.

But here's the thing I keep coming back to: as interested as I am in why all this happened, the question we wanted to talk about is, what should happen now? This was our thinking behind securing a conversation with Houston Mayor Bill White about his long-term approach to helping evacuees resettle. We wondered what was going on in Mississippi, too, so we talked to a reporter there (and one from Houston, both excellent) check out the conversation and hear their stories.

And how could we let you go without visiting the rhythmic sounds of the region? So, the great Irma Thomas reminded us that there's a song in every storm.

We hope we left you a little bit satisfied, with something more to think about.

This morning? Politics, Faith Matters...and the Barbershop.

Michel Martin

6:47 AM ET | 08-31-2007 | permalink

comments | | e-mail

6:47 AM ET | 08-31-2007 | permalink