Storm Tossed, by Whitney Farmer – Un Pop Culture

September 1, 2010 Whitney Farmer 6 Comments

Whitney runs a rock music venue on the beach in L.A. She has an M.B.A., and has a car.

When I heard that Hurricane Katrina was headed towards New Orleans, I was in a hotel by a university in Los Angeles. At the time, I was living in Sacramento and doing education policy consulting throughout California. A couple of weeks before that time, I had been in Chicago for a national meeting and had met a team from the Board of Regents in Louisiana whose eyes glowed with the zeal of true believers who were determined to reform their schools.  I still had their business cards with me as the storm descended and called them to let them know that I was praying for them.

The next day before the levees failed, I received a call back from one of them. They had sought and found refuge at their university, a strange island in a sea that had once been a city. He had seen the dead but felt like many did that there was room for thanks. They would have been obliterated if the storm had not shifted as it had right before it made landfall, avoiding a direct hit. But then after this, I lost contact with him.

The levees broke, a prophetic sign of generations of broken promises and human weaknesses. And the Superdome which had become a Noah’s Ark for the poorest and most desperate in the city began to contract with pain born from the negligence and incompetence of officials who had been charged to be stewards but instead only relished paychecks and perks.

Months later, a young woman who had returned from New Orleans brought me a seashell. She had picked it up from amongst thousands from the ground – miles inland – that had been underwater in the Lower 9^th Ward. She told me that she hadn’t expected that the storm would have stripped the land of all color. Everything had a death grey tinge from  being submerged and stirred around. She was discouraged that she had not done enough as part of the team that had helped in the beginnings of salvaging and re-building. As I looked at this shell which had once been a home to some living being, I told her that it was like that shell: It was just part of the debris until she had reached into the silt and reclaimed it. It had a name and a purpose again.

Five years later and as Hurricane Earl is threatening North Carolina, bureaucrats in New Orleans are scrambling to point at which projects should get them ‘A’s in Civics. One lesson from Katrina has led to the marshalling of emergency resources now instead of later in anticipation of what might happen from Earl. Like in all storms, the roads can be erased which can cause logistical impossibilities in rescue and recovery.  This reality would have been unknown to former FEMA Chief Brownnose – I mean Brownie – whose previous gig was being a champion of pleasure ponies owned by people with way too much money. He was probably wondering why we didn’t just pack in relief supplies on all our show horses.

New Orleans came to us courtesy of Haiti. Financially devastated by the slave revolt led by L’Ouverture and Dessalines, Napoleon dumped the territory in the Louisiana Purchase fire sale that gave us all or part of what would become 14 of our states (plus parts of two Canadian provinces that were used as bargaining chips later on).  Then as now, the poor and enslaved have driven the rulers to their knees.

To Haiti and to New Orleans: Don’t give the world any peace until you have peace again.

**BREAKING CULTURAL NEWS**

The sickest (that’s good…) motorcycle bar on the planet is opening up in San Diego TONIGHT! THE SHAKEDOWN is owned by the world’s coolest ex-drunk / heavy pouring bartender / Powerplant motorcycle partner who I was stupid enough to tell, “You are BUILT for this and you will be a success.” I should have told him that he was an idiot and needed to stay under my domination at the club. Then I wouldn’t have lost my ace. But this guy is so amazing that I could have gone to God’s Anger if I didn’t tell him the God’s honest truth about his value. Booze, Bands, Bikes, Broads, and Rods is their mission. And he promised to let us come in and wreck the joint during the Con next year, even if we are dressed like Klingons! Here’s the link: http://theshakedownsd.com/

Pour strong and ride long, Ted!!!!

Quote of the Blog from Ed, Dude of Light and Fog: “Why are you guys getting all puffed up? There aren’t even any women around.”