Diamond Diva Online: September 2006

I continue to appreciate all of you and your support of Way-Fil...After the Fire. Now I'm asking you to read the following about life after Katrina. This is from my husband, Stephen's brother. John and Betty Thompson, along with their high school senior son, Curtis are trying to cope with Life After Katrina. I challenge you to read this raw, open wound and not be touched by it. I'm attaching some photos to further bring home the reality.

Patti

Sat, 23 Sep 2006

15:44:52

+0000

AFTER THE STORM

Recently, my wife and I took an overdue breather from life on a very

nice cruise in the

Caribbean

. It was, by chance, just a week before the

first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. People tend to mark major events

in their lives with an annual remembrance. In this case, millions of

people had the storm's first anniversary on their mind, especially those

who were living in the landfall zone last year. I started thinking about

all that has happened in the intervening year since the hurricane

upended our corner of the world. It got to be too much for my head, so I

began writing it down.

One week before landfall last year, folks in

Mississippi

and

Alabama

were going about their own busy lives. We never suspected that a hard

left turn was just ahead. I was hacking in a charity golf tournament

with several friends from work. Katrina was just some tropical

disturbance off the east coast of

Florida

, nowhere in sight on my radar

screen of concern. After all, it was projected to hit that great

hurricane magnet, the state of

Florida

- twice!

That golf outing would be among the last recreational day that I or any

other

Gulf

Coast

resident of this region would enjoy for a long, long

time. Six days later, my family joined the hundreds of thousands fleeing

north as that monster took aim at southeast

Louisiana

. Early the next

morning, I watched by television as Katrina roared ashore, ravaging

every parish in its path and eventually thrashing

New Orleans

. As it

advanced north, the storm swallowed my town of

Slidell

with its western

eye wall even as the eastern side pummeled and then drowned the

Mississippi

coast before taking its fury far inland. Behind the storm,

the levees trembled and then broke. And the rest is history.

House gutting goes quickly. Former valued possessions pile up curbside,

forming misshapen pyramids that are brief monuments to the past life of

storm victims. Eventually the trash trucks come by and remove the shrine

in your front yard. When they take away your no-longer valuable

possessions, part of you goes with them. It hurts. The people who picked

up our stuff told me that I had the neatest and most compact debris pile

on the block. I really wasn't going for neatness or symmetry. Just

trying to minimize damage to our yard and save some grass.

A month or so into the recovery, there was a church in our town that

posted the following note on their signboard. "It's just stuff." That

line came to be repeated by well-meaning folk who themselves had lost

nothing but were trying to comfort those who had. I seriously

considered the validity of that short statement. Is it just stuff?

Hmmm. I suppose it is just stuff from an insurable loss perspective or

from an intellectual angle or from a theological point of view or from

the tunnel vision of a realist. However, those who have never actually

lost "stuff" aren't qualified to make that statement. On the other hand,

those who have actually lost "stuff" understand what the loss of

possessions means in a personal sense. They also have a higher level of

compassion for and a deeper understanding of those who have lost

"stuff". Regardless of the passing nature of physical possessions, on a

very personal level, it's not just stuff. It's your stuff!

Well, who lives and who dies and who escapes death by the skin of their

teeth? Katrina killed over 1500 people along the

Mississippi

and

Louisiana

coastlines. Many people who perished were unable to flee from

the storm because of circumstances of poverty or poor health or both.

Still others reasoned that they or someone they knew had weathered the

really bad ladies of Betsy and/or Camille and that Katrina would be no

different. It was. As we were evacuating from our subdivision a scant 14

hours ahead of landfall, there was a group of revelers in an adjacent

block having a "hurricane party" in their driveway. When I returned

alone 5 days later, some of them were still in that driveway with their

houses and subdivision in ruins around them. The party was over; for

some, it was their last. It's sad that so many died who really could

not get out of harms way; sadder still that so many perished with

functional but unused cars in their driveways; saddest of all are the

children who paid the ultimate price because their parent(s) wanted to

ride out the storm instead of escaping the storm. And for those who

"rode it out" and made it, luck still counts. You just can't always

count on being lucky.

Whenever there is a great tragedy like Hurricane Katrina, journalistic

sensationalism is not far behind. In fact, news isn't really news unless

it's about something bad. Why is that anyway? Newscasters have gone

beyond simply reporting the news and have evolved into a public sounding

board for everyone with an axe to grind about why government isn't doing

enough for its citizenry or any other complaint. Not only do such

newscasters and journalists provide a platform for public outrage, but

they also stir the pot vigorously by using the microphone and the pen to

point out everything that goes wrong while saying little about what goes

right.

New Orleans

has a particular broadcasting network with a powerful

presence in both television and radio space, one that is renowned

regionally and nationally. In the immediate aftermath of the storm,

this station was key in providing much needed communication in what

otherwise would have been a very silent place, void of all information.

They provided a tremendous public service by providing a communications

lifeline to those not only impacted by the storm but to those who were

left stranded. They have, however, undone a great amount of that good

by constantly fanning the flames of public rage against FEMA, the state

and federal governments as a whole, the major political players such as

George Bush, Governor Blanco, the

Louisiana

legislature and

U.S.

Congress, and even volunteer organizations such as the Red Cross. It's

an unfortunate but true running commentary on negative journalism that

has played out in their daily broadcasts.

In contrast to the local broadcaster above is the non-network newsgroup

CNN. To his considerable credit, Anderson Cooper helped focus the

spotlight not only on

New Orleans

and surrounding communities, but also

on the largely forgotten and essentially destroyed

Mississippi

Gulf

Coast. There was even some rare national focus given to those areas hit

hard by Rita, such as the forgotten coastal parishes of Western

Louisiana

. Compare CNN's productive coverage to NBC's News anchor Brian

Williams, who did his best to embarrass the President in a one-on-one

interview in the 9th Ward on the anniversary of Katrina. Whether or not

he succeeded in humiliating George W. in front of a national television

audience is uncertain. He did, however, manage to disgrace both himself

and his network in the process. Regardless of one's politics, there is a

point of basic civility that should be respected. Whether of not one

likes the President or agrees with an administration's policies should

not diminish respect for the office of the Presidency. The coverage of

the aftermath of Katrina has not been objective journalism's finest

hour, but it did allow the bottom-feeders in that industry another

opportunity to gorge themselves on the quick-headline misery of others.

On a personal level, our house was smashed but left standing by the

hurricane. We didn't wait for the government to come rebuild our lives

for us. One week after the storm hit, we were cleaning out what used to

be the first floor of our house and parts of the second floor that also

sustained considerable damage. Some great friends from work came and

helped us. A nice lady from FEMA came by to see about us and provided us

a generator and gasoline. Not long after, a check from FEMA was

deposited into our account. Then another. The Red Cross came by daily

and brought food to us at lunch and dinner. They opened a drive-thru

assistance station to collect information from storm victims and

provided cash directly into their accounts. The Army and National Guard

were on the ground and in the air providing security for citizens.

Others soldiers handed out ice and drinking water and ready-to-eat meals

(MRE's). For what few businesses were open, the men in uniform provided

protection and established order in what would have become an extremely

chaotic and lawless situation were it not for their presence. The local

hospitals provided free tetanus and hepatitis injections for the folks

living and working in very unsanitary conditions. Utility companies

from neighboring states sent hundreds of trucks and thousands of workers

to help restore power. Volunteer and faith-based organizations

descended on the area en masse to do what they could to help. High

school and college students gave up Christmas holiday and spring break

to come here and clean out flooded houses. Neighbors helped neighbors,

many of whose names were unknown to each other prior to the disaster.

Politicians set aside their party affiliations and political differences

to craft aid packages for the region. Plans were made by federal and

state governments to provide billions of dollars in grants to the

uninsured and underinsured in a compassionate suspension to the normal

rules of the game. After all, if an individual rolls the dice by living

in hurricane alley and shoots craps by neglecting to hedge against storm

loss, then he justifiably loses the bet and has no right of claim for

his losses. This time it's different, however, thanks to the

Louisiana

Recovery Authority. Even more money was earmarked for rebuilding the

Mississippi

and

Louisiana

coasts and coastal cities and communities,

including roads, levees, schools, bridges, ports and lives. Low-interest

loans were made available by the federal government to individuals and

businesses. Cities across the nation welcomed the newly homeless and

provided housing and food and clothes and jobs and hope for them.

Clearly, much has been done and much is still being done to help all

storm victims. The privileges and benefits of

U.S.

citizenship become

very evident at times like these. The Thompsons are very grateful!

Beyond all that, my employer, Shell Oil Company, came to the aid of my

family and all other affected Shell workers in an astonishing display of

corporate caring. Food and housing was provided for those who had no

place to live. Money was provided to assist the truly devastated in

rebuilding and refurnishing. Provisions were made to allow workers time

to secure their own home and family situation before returning to work.

Temporary work locations were established so that people had a place to

go to work, a move that benefited both company and individuals. Shell

employees who were unaffected by either Hurricanes Katrina or Rita

pooled money and sent gift cards to provide relief to their fellow

employees in need in a compassionate display of generosity and good

will.

So at what point do we individually and collectively say "Thank you!" to

those rendering aid instead of "Give me more!"?

There's no question mistakes were made at all levels of government in

preparations leading up to Katrina as well as in the aftermath. In

fairness, natural disasters of this stripe thankfully are rare. That

being the case, just how does government, even one as powerful and

wealthy as ours, adequately model and prepare for a response to a

disaster of biblical proportions? I don't know. Do you?

A terrible tsunami hit parts of the

Far East

at the end of 2004. In mere

moments, tens of thousands perished and hundreds of thousands who

survived lost what little they had. For many if not most of those

devastated communities, there was either no aid or very little compared

with what we've seen post-Katrina. Survival and recovery for people of

Third World

disasters are largely a result of self-determination and

will to survive rather than a dependence on government and volunteer

assistance. Not so in

America

. Our prosperity has made us soft and

overly dependent on a government that we've come to view as a social

sugar daddy. And if daddy doesn't coddle and spoil certain of his

children, they get really upset and throw a fit. Liberalists and

socialists among us would paraphrase John Kennedy's famous challenge in

the following manner. "Ask not what your country has done for you. Ask

why your country hasn't done more for you."

Closely related to the doomsday journalists plying their trade in the

wake of Katrina are the modern day prophets of doom calling down the

wrath of God on the region, the nation and the world. According to

them, the destruction of "the great harlot city of

New Orleans

" and the

coastal gaming establishments of

Mississippi

marked the opening shot of

the Great Apocalypse and the beginning of the end of the world. Call it

the Water World version of

Sodom

and

Gomorrah

Questions. What makes a natural disaster like Katrina different on a

spiritual plane of reference than, say, Andrew that smashed a splintered

trail across

Florida

, or Mitch that shattered

Honduras

and killed over

10,000 people? Or what about the great hurricane of 1900 that destroyed

Galveston

Texas

, racking up a similar body count? Or the great tsunami

of just two years ago that swallowed over 100 times the number of human

casualties as Katrina? Or what about earthquakes or volcanic eruptions

or any other great cataclysmic event that destroys life and property?

And what about the solely human atrocity of war? Are people who die in

any manmade or natural disaster any better or worse than those who lived

and died in the path of Katrina? Can anyone say with certainty that the

death and destruction caused by Katrina either was or was not a result

of Divine intervention? And just who are these guys to interpret these

supposed signs of the time and to speak for God anyway?

The doomsayers would do well to study the track record of all those who

have come before, loudly prophesying that the end of the world is

imminent. Their collective batting average in predicting the end of all

things is abysmal - actually zero. We're still here. As to why Katrina

hit where it did, once a hurricane enters the Gulf, it's going to hit

somewhere. Wind, water and weather patterns play into a storm track.

At some point in time and given enough time, your number comes up. One's

faith is not diminished for accepting a natural explanation for a

natural disaster. On the other hand, faith is not confirmed by insisting

that Katrina, or any other natural calamity, is caused by the finger of

God. It's a safe bet that God gets blamed for far more of the bad that

He doesn't do than receiving credit and thanksgiving for all the good

that He does do. I believe that the world will be rolled up like an old

garment one day and tossed aside. I just don't know what day it will

happen. Neither do those who think they do.

Volunteers.

America

and the world were touched deeply by the troubling

scenes broadcast from the wide impact zone of Katrina. Many sent money;

others sent clothes and supplies. Still others came from all over the

country to help in the cleanup and rebuilding efforts. The early days

of the volunteers were filled with helping victims sort through their

personal things and to save what they could before hauling it all to the

curb. Yards were cleaned, trees were cut, cars were hauled off, meals

were given out, money was distributed, houses were secured and people

were helped. Some of these wonderful people came and never left. Others

have returned multiple times. Relief organizations that began as small

grassroots efforts later flourished and became self-sustaining living

organisms. Volunteers have given a priceless and gracious gift to those

in the war zone, the gift of themselves. Thank God for all of them.

Getting back to normal. I don't know how many well-meaning people who

were either not affected by the storm or impacted very little asked me

the following question a scant month after Katrina hit. "Well, John,

are things about back to normal?" Whoever said there are no dumb

questions must have never thought of that one. I finally stopped being

polite about it and started answering their question with one of my own.

"If your subdivision was a set ten pins and Katrina was a bowling ball

that hit the strike pocket dead on, do you think you'd be 'back to

normal' by now?" Most of them got the point and either never asked

again or at least came to realize that recovery progress is measured in

inches per month, not miles.

Some people just refused to mentally adapt to the new realities of life

after Katrina. It was almost as if they were trying to will things back

to what was their sense of normal. It was like they needed me to say

everything was fine in order to validate their own need for everything

to be "back to normal". For those who kept coming back and provoking me,

a different tactic was needed. So I asked them to consider the amount of

time required to do just one home improvement project, such as, say,

redoing a bathroom. How long does something like that take? Now

multiply that one small project by a whole house, inside and out. That

analogy helped the light bulb come on for most of them, although for

some denser folk, it was only a dull flicker.

I suppose that "normal" is a relative term depending on where one is in

life. One year beyond the storm, things are indeed 'back to normal'.

However, it's not the old normal; it's the new normal. Here are a few

things that have become "normal" in the post-Katrina landscape.

. Thinking that you'll be able to rebuild in just a few months. A

few months pass; then a few more. You realize that the rebuilding goal

is much further off than first thought.

. Looking for something and then realizing the storm took it.

. Standing in long lines at checkouts, banks and restaurants.

Businesses just can't get enough workers.

. Frustration with contractors who are scheduled to show up but

don't.

. Carefully monitoring those contractors that do show up, lest you

get shoddy workmanship. They still put some things over on you.

. Vendors locking their doors to walk-ins and going to

"Appointments Only" because of the crush of customers trying to get the

same things that you want. It takes 3 weeks to get an appointment. You

show up as scheduled and they're closed.

. Cabinets that used to be available in 4 weeks now take 14. When

the cabinets do arrive, they get lost in the warehouse. When they are

installed, you can finally measure for countertops, which should arrive

in two months - maybe.

. Getting an unexpected break in annual property taxes because the

value of your house has been written down to roughly the value of the

lot. Next year, taxes will probably double or more to make up the tax

revenue shortfall plus a bonus for post-storm appreciation of property

values.

. Homeowner's insurance rates skyrocketing but including less

coverage for more money.

. Kids going to different schools because their own school was

badly damaged or destroyed.

. Many of their friends being scattered to the four corners of the

wind because of loss of home or their parents' jobs or both.

. Parents struggling to help their kids cope with their sense of

loss, confusion and frustration because mom and dad are struggling with

those same things, too.

. Marriages that were already teetering on the verge of failure

being pushed over the edge into oblivion.

. A doublewide trailer becoming an envied new status symbol of

luxurious living.

. Home Depot and Lowe's becoming your most-visited shopping

locations.

. Insurance adjusters showing up in timely fashion after the

hurricane but taking many months to pay off.

. Insurance payouts looking nothing alike, even though

side-by-side houses sustained virtually the same damage. Just because

you get a new roof doesn't mean your neighbor does, or vise versa.

. Mortgage lenders further abusing storm victims by withholding

insurance payouts rightly due property owners in order to take full

advantage of free money to loan out, even though they say the money is

in "restricted escrow".

. Calculating to see if there is enough money to make house

repairs. The first calculation is always too low. A less tangible

calculation follows. Is it worth the trouble?

. Making good progress on repairs on some days. Sitting and

staring in confusion at the mess on other days and wondering what to do

next.

. Going to the grocery store and buying more than will fit in your

miniature refrigerator.

. Having dust as your constant companion.

. Paper plates and plastic utensils being standard for all meals.

. Tossing out a good nutrition plan in preference to whatever

meals are easiest to prepare.

. Forgetting things. Short-term memory loss. Your mind is just not

as sharp as before. Or maybe it's just overloaded. Definitely

overloaded!

. Being tired much of your waking hours because you often don't

sleep well at night. Battle fatigue.

. Waking up in the middle of the night thinking about some house

repair problem or work problem - or both.

. Finding out that the housing permit folks have changed certain

rules after you've already made repairs according to their original

directives.

. Something in your house that defies being fixed and staying

fixed. Finding out how solid a particular warranty either is or is not.

. Your spouse wading in and out of the shallow end of an

ever-deepening pool of depression. Living and working at ground zero

takes its toll.

. Getting depressed along with her some days, too. Hopefully, her

bad days and your bad days don't coincide.

. Extended family members and close friends stop calling or

writing to check on and encourage you after the first couple of months

have passed.

. Feeling like you're on an endless journey to nowhere and just

wanting to quit. But you have to keep going.

. Caring less about whether you are called a "storm victim" or a

"storm survivor". Semantics for the same thing.

. Feeling like you've got two full-time jobs because you do.

. Coming to the realization that you can't work days and nights

and weekends indefinitely. Accepting without guilt taking a day off now

and then to recover some before going at it again.

. Making good progress on the home repair front comes at the cost

of falling behind at work. Staying even at work means falling behind at

home. Eventually, you strike some balance between the two. It's the best

you can do.

. Realizing your relationship with the family is suffering once

you get house repairs and work balanced out.

. Making hard decisions for the benefit of the whole family and

eventually pushing or dragging everyone forward, even though not

everyone is on board.

. Most days being you're grateful for what you have left. Other

days wishing the storm would have taken everything so you could just

start over with a clean slate.

And in a new-normal category all by himself is . . . drum roll . . . the

silver-tongued mayor of

New Orleans

, Ray Nagen, and his rash of

insensitive and politically incorrect sound bytes. His "hole in the

ground" statement was . . . well, there are no words for it. It has

become quite normal for him to make some rash public statement only to

supersede that with something truly off the wall followed by something

unbelievably bizarre and on and on. The guy was definitely dropped on

his head as a baby. What's next, Ray?

Here is something else that has become the new normal in the aftermath

of the storm. Real estate prices have been bid up significantly. Gas

prices have also trended higher. People often ask me if I can do

anything about high fuel prices since I work for a big oil company. Some

of these folks who think I can wave a magic wand and lower the price at

the pump are total strangers. They have annoyed me so much that I've

just about stopped wearing anything that even hints that I work for an

oil company. These same people have no problem putting their house up

for sale and drawing a 30% premium now that housing is in short supply.

Something called the 'Law of Supply and Demand', I think. Of course when

you mention that same law to them with regard to the price of oil and

refined products, it's no longer supply and demand but rather some kind

of international price fixing conspiracy to shaft consumers and enrich

oil companies. Groan. If these boneheads fell off a ladder, would they

expect the law of gravity to make an exception for them?

Regardless of all the death and destruction caused by Katrina and the

accompanying misery and suffering after the storm, one fact is very

evident. The human spirit is very powerful and will not be quenched.

There is within us a deep desire not only to survive but also to thrive.

We will rebuild our houses, our towns and our lives. Knock us down and

we'll get back up. Oppress us and we become stronger. Say it can't be

done and we'll do it. We may get down but we won't stay down. Get up,

shake the dust off and move on. It's what we do. So it has been

throughout human history and, I suppose, so shall it ever be.

One last thought. In the midst of life after the storm, I heard a phrase

that really spoke to my spirit. "Hardship doesn't build character so

much as it reveals character." Don't think I can improve at all on that

statement, although my character can still use a lot of polishing.

Katrina has done and continues to do a considerable amount of

rock-tumbler polishing on many of us.

May God continue to bless us in our lives after the storm.

John T.

These are photos that I took when Stephen and I went to Slidell in June, 2006

It rminded me of the old kids song....

"And they all looked like "ticky tacky" and they all looked just the same."

These are photos that John sent me in November, 2005, to help him with the appraisal of their "STUFF".

The piano from Mom. (She died in 1997.)

Our dining set we brought back from Oman.

It seems appropriate to start off with "New Beginnings". Yesterday was September 11th, the 5th anniversary of 9-11 and a very solem day it was. Just as I have since I started blogging, I used to keep a diary, of sorts. I thought I would share my entry for September 11, 2001.....

Today is

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

and I am experiencing a shock that is beyond human thought or words. Stephen and I were supposed to leave this morning for a watch repair seminar in
Atlanta
. That seems such a vague distant memory now.

I was packing for the trip around

7:40

this morning and catching up on the CBS morning news when my eyes became fixed to the screen. Did I just see a plane hit one of the twin towers in
New York
? I called to Stephen as he came from the shower that a plane hit one of the towers in
New York
. We were both thinking that this would be a big problem for that airline, because that pilot must have been way off course. We dismissed it as that. Did I just see someone jump from the building? No, that couldn’t have been a person.

Getting back to my packing, I glanced up again only to see what looked like another place heading for the other tower. I know that I screamed, I just can’t remember what.

Stephen came out and we hugged tightly as I told him what I had just seen realizing only then that it was a human being that leaped from the building and that

New York

was being attacked.

The doorbell rang. My friend, Alice was on the other side. She took one look at me and said “what’s happened?”. I had to assure her that Stephen, the girls and I were ok to calm her. I must have translated the horror of the morning to my face. Guiding her into the den we sat down in total reverence in front of the big TV and in hushed tones I whispered what I had seen. We held on to each other for a moment and cried.

Suddenly we learned that the very place Stephen and I were going to was shutting down. Our reservations were at the

Hartsfield

Airport
in
Atlanta
for the seminar. I finally reached the instructor who was driving to the airport for his flight to
Atlanta
. It was decided to reschedule the class and everyone stay at home. For some reason I felt I needed to be at the shop with Lynne and JoAnn. We three have been through good times and bad. This would be no exception. Our eyes were riveted to the screen as the towers began to crumble right before our eyes. Huddled together we had a million questions with no available answers as to whom or what could do this hideous thing.

Some things go on despite our feelings or our shock. As a few customers came in we begin to share what little information we were getting from the news. Lynne suggested I go back home. The stress of all this could affect my already fragile immune system. She told me to get some rest.

Stephen thought we should take this opportunity and go to our favorite place, the Don Cesar hotel in St. Pete Beach, Florida. Worried about my health, I knew it was a gesture of love but I could not leave my spot on the sofa. I watched, no, devoured it all from the white clouds on a clear blue day to the relentless trash and debris rolling from the depths of the towers. I watched firemen, first responders, police, reporters and the everyday workers running, hiding, reporting and dying. “How can this be happening in

America

?” I mumbled over an over again.

Stephen mowed the grass and Cayla came home from school. In the innocence of her youth, her only comment was that she was tired of hearing about it. “After all, someone will fix it, right?” she asked. I was just too numb to answer. Patting the sofa, I bid her to sit with me and once again I relived the horrors of that morning. Tears began to flow down her face when her flippant comment came back to haunt her.

The phone rang. Lynne told me that JoAnn had to go get in line for gasoline as it was going up to $3.00 a gallon by tomorrow and that I needed to make plans myself. No plans I thought, just a crushing pain.

I have felt this pain before. Many years before I stood at the Arizona Memorial in

Hawaii

. Several years later I was in the room that housed Anne Frank and her family in
Amsterdam
. The feeling of total loss and hopelessness enveloped me at those places and had done so today. How many people had died today? How many children would cry for the parents today? What punishment would ever be strong enough for whoever did this?

America had been changed forever and I must write down what caused the change and never forget this day.

Patti

Diamond Diva Online

Lynne, JoAnn and Patti are The Diamond Divas of Way-Fil Jewelry. Visit our virtual store at www.thediamonddivas.com or shop in our EBAY store at www.wayfil.com

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September 2006

Sep 25, 2006

NASCAR and the Diamond

Sep 24, 2006

A year after Katrina

Sep 20, 2006

P. S. Barlett

Sep 19, 2006

Survey Says

Sep 18, 2006

Online vs Brick and Mortar Stores

Sep 12, 2006

New beginnings