“Wake up. The levees have broken!” These were the first words I heard Tuesday morning as fellow photographer Eliot Kamenitz kicked my feet and woke me on the floor of the Times-Picayune library.
Editor’s note: When Hurricane Katrina
hit, several CIP photographers were dispatched to the disaster. For
others, including Jamie Bates and Ted Jackson, the disaster came home.
Following are some remembrances from those on the scene.
“Wake up. The levees have broken!” These were the first words I heard
Tuesday morning as fellow photographer Eliot Kamenitz kicked my feet
and woke me on the floor of the Times-Picayune library. “Jesus Christ!”
came an anonymous reaction from across the room. “Even Jesus can’t help
us now,” came another panicked response. Everybody knew what this
meant. The worst-case hurricane scenario was upon us. The city was
filling like a bowl and there was no time to waste.
— Ted Jackson, New Orleans Times-Picayune
One of the greatest natural disasters of modern times was centered in
the city I call home. I want to take good pictures and tell the stories
of the heroes and survivors, but I also feel a need to get my hands
dirty helping.
— Jamie Bates, The Sun Herald, Biloxi, Miss.
It seems the storms have brought out the worst…and the best in
people. I’ve seen so many examples of the church at work, ministering
to the needs of hurting people. Then I’ve also seen humans resorting to
callously capitalizing on others misfortune, as well as incredibly
selfish behavior.
— Louis Deluca, The Dallas Morning News
I saw a group of firefighters in the rubble of what was once a
neighborhood just off the beach, so I followed. Walking closer, I heard
a voice behind me ask, “Is that a body?” Then I noticed her. A woman
about 3 feet to my left lay dead in the mixture of muddy shingles,
plywood and bricks. I stumbled back as the firefighters came to cover
her body and with a long lens took a few frames. I was not ready for
this.
— Jon M. Fletcher, The Florida Times-Union
I noticed an abandoned flatboat pulled up on the building’s back steps.
I ran to it, hoping for a motor or at least a paddle. Instead I found a
broken broom. “God has sent me a boat,” I thought and with two cameras,
my cell phone, my laptop and a small bag of food and water I shoved off
and paddled away.
I quickly realized the moral and ethical dilemmas I was now facing.
Everyone stranded by the flood would want my small boat. They would do
anything to take my boat. I saw a head bobbing in the waters. I paddled
quickly and yelled, “You OK?” “Ted!” came the reply. I paddled quickly
to find fellow photographer Alex Brandon swimming toward me with a
baggie of flash cards clinched in his teeth.
— Ted Jackson
I sometimes think about what I do for a living and think about
the people and their lives I come in contact with, usually in very
trying and difficult situations. Approaching each situation with
compassion and respect goes a long way.
— Michael Macor, The San Francisco Chronicle
Shock has a way of blinding your eyes, protecting your mind, from the stark harsh realities of disasters.
This is what I saw in New Orleans last week, while on assignment after
the region was hit by Hurricane Katrina. It was the same look I saw in
the eyes of New Yorkers on Sept. 11, 2001, while photographing the
attack on the World Trade Center. I saw stunned workers walking away
from the collapsing buildings, with the same blank stare. Others had
eyes wide with panic and ran past as fast as they could.
— Rick Wood, The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Words cannot describe the devastation. Neither can photos. You have to
see it, taste it and smell it to comprehend it. Survivors seemed
trapped in a movie set where the world had ended. They walked around
like zombies, just walking with nowhere to go.
One evening I was mistaken for a looter. A retired cop intent on
protecting his neighborhood leveled a shotgun to my head. “On the
ground!” he demanded. Fellow photographer David Grunfeld and I quickly
tried to explain that we had broken into his neighbor’s house with
permission from the owner for a place to sleep.
— Ted Jackson
Scripture tells us that the rain falls on the just the unjust, and I
don’t believe that disasters like Katrina are God’s judgment on his
people, but I do believe he judges how we respond to them. Time to talk
Christianity is past. Now is the time to live it. I do know that God
has a plan, but he hadn’t filled me in yet. But I know I want to go
wherever he leads.
I’ve covered tragedies all over the world, but it’s different when it’s
your own town. Cataclysmic annihilation is starting to feel normal.
This story is ours to cover, but it’s more than that. This is now our
life.
One thing I know. I’m very proud of my co-workers. Consider this: Begin
the day with a thriving metro newspaper. Reduce the staff and their
tools to a bare minimum. Have them abandon all their offices and assume
the presses are trashed. Leave behind almost every computer. Disconnect
ALL communications. Scatter the staff and burden each and every one
with moment-by-moment issues of life and death. Destroy most of their
homes. Confound their futures and give them no, absolutely no
information about the safety, condition or whereabouts of their
parents, friends or children. Transport them to another city, set up
shop and publish a paper that night.
That’s what the Times-Picayune did. God gave us strength and perseverance.
— Ted Jackson
Last Sunday morning, almost three weeks after Katrina struck, while
driving through the deserted city, I came across a young man at prayer
at the shuttered doors of a New Orleans church. I’ll always remember
him.
— Billy Calzada, San Antonio Express-News
We want to provide for the needs for our neighbors, but we’re doing it
in the name of Jesus Christ. In our community, the body of Christ may
never have an opportunity greater than this to serve our Lord. If I
could offer a bit of advice, it would be to simply remind folks that
we’re not guaranteed much in life, except for the eternal salvation
that only a personal relationship with Jesus can provide. The pursuit
of material things that so occupies most of our lives has so little
meaning and can so easily distract us from our true purpose. I
encourage you to pray that God prepare you and that He might use you in
a mighty way. You just might be surprised to find His answer!
— Jamie Bates