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MN
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(248) 851-6500
fax (248) 851-6505
9/ 8
2005
10
Hours:
Mon-Sat 9-10 I Sunday 12-6
5675 Maple Rd.
at Orchard Lake Rd.
West Bloomfield
t was about
two hours after
my dad died
on Sept. 1, 2004,
that we got the
knock on the door
of my mother's
Hallandale home.
A law enforce-
HARRY
ment officer told us
of the mandatory
KI RS BAUM
evacuation for 2
Columnist
p.m. the next day
because Hurricane
Ivan was bearing down on the Florida
coast.
The evacuation drill was the same
as always, but it was new to me.
We need to know if you are going
to stay or evacuate, he said. We can't
force you to go, but if you decide to
stay, you are on your own.
If you get into trouble, we won't be
able to help you until the hurricane
has passed, but we will know that you
are here, and we will search for you if
you're missing.
My mother said we would all be
leaving after Dad's burial the next day.
He checked her name off the list,
gave his condolences and moved on.
The burial was originally planned
for noon, but we changed the ceremo-
ny for earlier that morning so people
could attend, then prepare for Ivan.
A few hours after the briefest of
burials, we found ourselves stuck in
bumper-to-bumper traffic heading
north on 1-95 to Jacksonville, where a
plane would take my mother and me
to Detroit the following day and
where she could finally light a candle
for the man she loved for 56 years.
One year later, on the anniversary
of Dad's death, I saw the live televi-
sion reports from the devastated Gulf
coast, with the $25 billion in eco-
nomic damage dwarfed by the rising
toll in human misery.
My family got off easy.
People were stranded on their own
rooftops — a personal version of an
island in hell — surrounded by water,
but still lacking water and the other
necessities of life, such as food, shelter
and electricity; waving white towels in
surrender, waiting for rescue that took
too long to appear.
New Orleans city officials warned
Harry Kirsbaum's e-mail address is
hkirsbaum@thejewishnews.com.
1017250
its citizens that it could be months
before the city is habitable again, and
thousands of poor souls may be lost.
Thousands of homeless people
joined the elderly and sick from nurs-
ing homes in the Louisiana
Superdome. Two died during the
storm when part of the roof collapsed.
Another person took his own life
when he jumped from a balcony.
Two police officers committed sui-
cide last week because they couldn't
handle what they saw.
A few days before Hurricane
Katrina landed on the Gulf Coast, she
passed through Florida as a Category
1.
My mother stayed home, and treat-
ed the rain and wind rattling the win-
dows as merely a nuisance.
As footage of a New Orleans hotel
showed furniture and bedding hang-
ing out of every blown out window, I
imagined what may have happened if
Katrina would have passed over
Florida with the same viciousness.
What would have happened to my
mother then?
Would she have been forced to wait
for five days in a stadium without
food or water? Would she have been
under threat of violence or starvation,
or witnessed more dead bodies piled
up in corners like she did 60 years ago
in Auschwitz?
Over the past week, questions have
been raised about race and economic
status perhaps being a factor in the
tragedy.
Other questions, too, like: Who's to
blame?
How does the most powerful nation
in the world, a nation expected to help
other countries after similar devastat-
ing occurrences, not be able to take
care of its own citizens?
How can FEMA and the
Department of Homeland Security
fail so miserably and not acknowledge
it, and how can their respective direc-
tors hold onto their jobs for even one
more minute?
How can Islamist and neo-Nazi
Web sites take such glee that the
storm has wiped out so many of the
"enemies of Allah" or the "muds?"
But the most nagging question
remains, and it was posed by my
mother, both last week and 60 years
ago: Where was God? Fl