SOME SAY THE WORLD WILL END IN FIRE, SOME SAY IN ICE …
To those allegorical choices of the late poet Robert Frost, one could add water, liquid ice.
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New Orleans during better times: destroyed beyond repair? |
I write this amid the early waves of footage, pictures and reports detailing the devastation of Hurricane Katrina.
Comparisons between this hurricane and last year’s tsunami in Southeast Asia have come quickly. And they are appropriate.
But I am struck more by another comparison, with another recent American tragedy, the terrorist attacks of 2001.
I suspect that by the time you read this many more such analogies will be drawn, but as I haven’t heard many as of this writing, here are my thoughts.
The fire of the Twin Towers galvanized New York City, the nation and for some time at least, the world.
Shock turned to rage turned to determination.
The liquid ice of this disaster has enveloped us more slowly and even deceptively,shortly after the hurricane hit and began to lose force, some commentators even pronounced the situation better than expected.
But then the dams collapsed, and New Orleans,the Ground Zero of this disaster,became a watery hell.
I suspect that what follows this shock will be different.
Certainly, there will be no war on terror or war on Iraq. In that considerable respect, the hurricane and flood will not change the world the way Sept. 11, 2001, did.
But as images of strewn bodies and desperate survivors continued to pour in late last week, it began to appear that this disaster, on a human scale, will be worse.
About 3,000 died on Sept. 11. There were no reliable early death estimates from the hurricane,although many assumed it would be in the “thousands” by the time the waters finished receding and all were rescued.
The rocketing price of gasoline was a sign that the hurricane, which hit refineries, might cause more economic damage than the attacks of four years ago. And already, the loss of homes and other property, and the disruption to lives caused by the wind and water, is staggering.
But while the economic impacts,prices, construction contracts and so forth,will be the main story for this paper in the weeks to come, I’ll keep the focus here on contrasts.
Sept. 11 happened in a relative flash,unlike this time, when the damage has been slow and relentless, threatening even more death and sickness to come.
As spectacular a sight as it was, the collapse of the Twin Towers was contained within several city blocks. The hurricane and flooding,though less spectacular to a distant camera’s eye,has wreaked havoc across several states.
Within minutes of the first plane crashing on Sept. 11, the nation stopped and became riveted on the drama. On the other hand, America’s collective fascination with the hurricane and flood has been gradual and in slow motion, caught here and there on screen or in print.
Just as significant, the enemy of Sept. 11 had a human face,men who flew the planes and a terrorist network that bred them. And since we had an enemy, we also had a cause. But how does one wage war against nature?
All of these factors may help to explain that while the terror of Sept. 11 was accompanied immediately by tales of heroism, many of the early reports from Louisiana have been about looting, shooting and rape.
While New York’s response to Sept. 11 was a civic triumph, there were fears last week that New Orleans had descended into anarchy.
Where stranded New Yorkers were left with a long walk home, thousands in the Gulf Coast no longer had homes at all.
A symbol of Sept.11 was the courageous firefighter; the corresponding images last week were of rifle-toting Guardsmen and overwhelmed cops.
Rudy Giuliani rallied the people of New York. I have yet to see a Giuliani emerge among the beleaguered local officials dealing with last week’s rescue effort.
Even the talk about rebuilding is different.
In New York the debate was, and has, focused on an ultimate victory, about what sort of monument best represents a triumph for freedom.
But about New Orleans there is an air of defeat,and talk of a permanent evacuation. Some have suggested that the city has been destroyed beyond repair.
And that thought brings to mind the lyrics of another poet, Steve Goodman, sung about a train, but in words that might also presage the fate of a city:
Good night America, how are you?
Don’t you know me I’m your native son?
I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans
I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done.
,Rick Reiff
