Empathy and Anger

Someone told me once that I felt things too deeply, that the plight of others struck some chord within myself that resonated down to the core of my being. Many who have listened to me bark out my opinions would decidedly disagree with that assessment but they would be wrong.

For the past two weeks I've been glued to the visual coverage of the debacle surrounding Katrina. The images of the elderly crying in frustration and pain, the sight of young children clinging to their rescuers as if they had found a personal savior, the view of a wheelchair, draped with a cloth signifying that death had began staking a claim to the victims...all will remain fixed in my mind for some times to come.

Their anger and frustration certainly far exceeded mine but it fostered an answering cry of my own.

I was so angry that something wasn't being done. This is America, for God's sake, not a third world country. If I could see the pain these people were in then why the hell couldn't the federal government see it and if they DID WHY weren't they on the way there to rescue the people in the south?

The anger is fading now as the rescues turn into recovery. Now I'm brought to tears by the rescue of the pets left behind and once again made contributions to several organizations who are attempting to make a difference.

I note that once again, it is civilian organizations that have been the most organized and accomplish the most.

FEMA has been a clusterfuck. There is no excuse for their poor performance. No excuse for the top man in FEMA to be so thoroughly ignorant. I'm not certain Michael Brown shouldn't be held criminally responsible for some of the deaths in New Orleans.

But as the anger dissipates, the tears come. I can't talk to anyone about this, can't leave a voice mail of thanks to an organization that has out performed itself, can't even offer a prayer in church without choking up.

Perhaps it's the anniversary of 9-11-01 that adds to the sorrow today. Perhaps it's just too many days of watching people in anguish. Whichever it is, I don't know how ANYONE - and that means you, Don Surber, can advise people to "just move on".

Hell no, I don't want to move on. I want us to remember. I want us to prepare. So that this never happens in America again.