Camille Revisited
With the news of Hurricane Katrina hitting the gulf coast, I can't help but think of 1969's Hurricane Camille. I was 13 then, and it's the first memory I have of a hurricane. We had just been to the coast the previous summer on my first visit there, and I felt so badly for the residents. It was the first time I had ever sent money to a relief organization. I felt so helpless.
That's the way I feel today. Watching the devastating video and listening to the words of residents caught in the storm, I wish there was something I could do to help. I called the local motels in my town today and found out that they were full and sending people away. I thought perhaps my town administration could open a relief shelter at the community center and called town hall to ask about it. But I found out later that a shelter not too far from here still had room for hurricane refugees. So the town decided not to do it, understandably so.
I talked to the local Red Cross, and they said the hotels were being very generous in our community and that they were unaware of any special needs that had not been addressed. Except for money, of course. As is the case in so many of these natural disasters, what the relief organizations really need is money. And so, once again, I will send money to help what looks like a hopeless situation. And I will still feel so helpless. I know the money will be put to good use, and I am glad to give it. I just wish I could do more. I can't imagine losing your home, your livelihood, your town. It breaks my heart.
A hurricane refugee was interviewed on the news tonight here. She finally found a hotel room after being turned away from several facilities that were full. She is expecting a baby in one week. It's unimaginable.
I watched another woman in Biloxi, MS on the news yesterday as she hurriedly carried bottles of water to her house before the storm hit. As she passed the camera, she peered into the lens and said plaintively, "Pray for us!"
Give money. Pray. What else can we do?
That's the way I feel today. Watching the devastating video and listening to the words of residents caught in the storm, I wish there was something I could do to help. I called the local motels in my town today and found out that they were full and sending people away. I thought perhaps my town administration could open a relief shelter at the community center and called town hall to ask about it. But I found out later that a shelter not too far from here still had room for hurricane refugees. So the town decided not to do it, understandably so.
I talked to the local Red Cross, and they said the hotels were being very generous in our community and that they were unaware of any special needs that had not been addressed. Except for money, of course. As is the case in so many of these natural disasters, what the relief organizations really need is money. And so, once again, I will send money to help what looks like a hopeless situation. And I will still feel so helpless. I know the money will be put to good use, and I am glad to give it. I just wish I could do more. I can't imagine losing your home, your livelihood, your town. It breaks my heart.
A hurricane refugee was interviewed on the news tonight here. She finally found a hotel room after being turned away from several facilities that were full. She is expecting a baby in one week. It's unimaginable.
I watched another woman in Biloxi, MS on the news yesterday as she hurriedly carried bottles of water to her house before the storm hit. As she passed the camera, she peered into the lens and said plaintively, "Pray for us!"
Give money. Pray. What else can we do?
posted by Tif at 5:41 PM
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