HERE COMES THE CAJUN NAVY!
Baton Rouge, Louisiana
HERE COMES THE CAJUN
NAVY!
The Cajun Navy wasted no time. Hurricane Harvey slammed into the Texas Coast
on a Friday. By Sunday, hundreds of
boats were on their way to Texas. I
passed a supermarket parking lot two days after the storm hit, and a large
contingent of boats and trailers were lined up to head for the Lone Star
State. As this column is being written, thousands
of Louisianans are offering help. That’s
what many Texans did for us here in the Bayou State exactly twelve years ago.
Those of us living on the Gulf Coast
remember the fear and concern that enveloped our world as a lady named Katrina
changed many of our lives forever. In looking back, many Louisianans felt
that maybe New Orleans really was a city that care forgot, and the whole Gulf
Coast was thrown in for good measure. This human tragedy has haunted the Bayou
State ever since.
Two days before Katrina attacked, I was hosting a local radio program in Baton Rouge and was interviewing a key official with the National Hurricane Center in Miami. “Katrina has turned in a much more northerly direction, with a beeline for New Orleans. We are saying a possible Hurricane 4, and you folks are going to have some big problems up there.”
I was stunned. “What? We’ve had no warning of this. You’re telling me it’s going to come right towards New Orleans?”
The next morning, with Katrina only a
day away, I called my sister, living at the southern tip of Louisiana in Port
Sulfur. I offered to come get her family, but she told me the single road
north was completely congested and it was best for her to leave her home and
evacuate immediately. New Orleans has only four roads that lead out of the
city, and they too were ensnarled in massive traffic jams as the locals fled
for safety.
But as thousands who had transportation escaped, there was virtually no evacuation plan in place and no mandatory exodus. When asked repeatedly by the press, the Mayor of New Orleans issued a statement saying: “He’s having his legal staff look into whether he can order a mandatory evacuation of the city.” The storm was now only hours away, yet no public effort was undertaken at either the city or state level to supply public transportation for the thousands who had no way out.
Miraculously, the storm passed on a Sunday night, and did little damage to the Crescent City. By the next morning our New Orleans family and guests were packing up to head back home. Then the chilling news came in a phone call from a friend who had ridden out the storm. The levees had broken and the city was flooding.
The real tragedies took place in the days that followed. Thousands were stranded on rooftops and in attics. When private boat owners headed into New Orleans and surrounding areas to help, they were often told by state and federal law enforcement officers that it was illegal to bring their personal boats into the disaster area. I was told that very thing when I tried to make it by boat to my in-laws house on Bayou St. John. Hundreds of boat owners, labeled the Cajun Navy, ignored the ludicrous orders and charged in to save thousands of stranded homeowners.
For a week the Governor and the President squabbled over who had the authority to oversee the Louisiana National Guard. It was a ridiculous turf battle that delayed the rescue efforts by several more days. It took an Army General from New Roads, Louisiana (Russell Honore’) to take charge and bring some order to the devastated area.
If it were not for hundreds of Cajuns and Rednecks alike, who took it upon themselves to lend a rescuing hand, many more lives would have been lost.
But as thousands who had transportation escaped, there was virtually no evacuation plan in place and no mandatory exodus. When asked repeatedly by the press, the Mayor of New Orleans issued a statement saying: “He’s having his legal staff look into whether he can order a mandatory evacuation of the city.” The storm was now only hours away, yet no public effort was undertaken at either the city or state level to supply public transportation for the thousands who had no way out.
Miraculously, the storm passed on a Sunday night, and did little damage to the Crescent City. By the next morning our New Orleans family and guests were packing up to head back home. Then the chilling news came in a phone call from a friend who had ridden out the storm. The levees had broken and the city was flooding.
The real tragedies took place in the days that followed. Thousands were stranded on rooftops and in attics. When private boat owners headed into New Orleans and surrounding areas to help, they were often told by state and federal law enforcement officers that it was illegal to bring their personal boats into the disaster area. I was told that very thing when I tried to make it by boat to my in-laws house on Bayou St. John. Hundreds of boat owners, labeled the Cajun Navy, ignored the ludicrous orders and charged in to save thousands of stranded homeowners.
For a week the Governor and the President squabbled over who had the authority to oversee the Louisiana National Guard. It was a ridiculous turf battle that delayed the rescue efforts by several more days. It took an Army General from New Roads, Louisiana (Russell Honore’) to take charge and bring some order to the devastated area.
If it were not for hundreds of Cajuns and Rednecks alike, who took it upon themselves to lend a rescuing hand, many more lives would have been lost.
As Texas will learn in the months to
come, it is dangerous to allow major developments that are drained by bayous
and streams through metropolitan areas. Levees can only be built so high, and
water pumps can only be built so big. Other storms will come.
Louisiana was drastically unprepared for the
coming of Katrina. Over 1000 lives were lost. It’s early to second guess, but Houston
and the surrounding areas could have done more in anticipation of such a
storm. But when a full review of all he
damage is done in the months to come, one thing will stand out. Thank goodness for the Cajun Navy.
Peace and Justice
Jim Brown
Jim Brown’s
syndicated column appears each week in numerous newspapers throughout the
nation and on websites worldwide. You can read all his past columns and
see continuing updates at http://www.jimbrownusa.com. You can also hear Jim’s
nationally syndicated radio show each Sunday morning from 9 am till 11:00 am,
central time, on the Genesis Radio Network, with a live stream at http://www.jimbrownusa.com.
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