I know that it's a natural reaction to unpleasant circumstance, but I find myself wishing that we could all go back to a week ago today and just stay there.
A week ago today, people in New Orleans and Gulfport and Biloxi were either still in their homes or preparing to leave them. At the least, they still had their homes.
A week ago today, babies weren't dying from dehydration. Elderly people weren't dying in wheelchairs outside of convention centers.
I know that things are slowly starting to improve for those in the affected areas, but it just seems that the relief has been agonizingly slow coming...especially since all reports indicate that the authorities knew what a hurricane of this strength would do to New Orleans.
I have always had a special place in my heart for New Orleans. In the times that I have visited, I have been charmed beyond belief by the city, the people, the way of life...time seems to stop when you're there. Nothing outside of the city exists any more, and you feel like you've stepped into another world. I would never claim to understand what the people from New Orleans are feeling, but as the Fats Domino song says I am one of those who "left my heart there" when I went to New Orleans. A week ago today the French Quarter still looked like it did the last time I had coffee at Cafe DuMonde.
I have never been to Biloxi, but I've been through southern Mississippi. To think that towns are just gone...lives are gone...is almost more than I can fathom. The images of the casino barges perched in the middle of highways are just amazing to me.
The latest on the disaster response team's deployment to Houston is that we aren't sure when we're going or where we're going. There is a possibility that some of the evacuees may be headed for Greenville, so we may not be going anywhere but across town. Wherever we end up, however, I hope we go soon. I feel that if I can get into the present, in with my sleeves rolled up, helping those that need it...then the memories of and longing for a week ago today will fade.