Come Hell and High Water (page 6 of 6)

Curfew

We needed to leave, and now. José, Tim and I headed for our cars, and I reached for my keys. They were gone. I dug into my pockets, ran my hands across the seats, then sent Tim to ask Reggie if he had them. He'd just rounded the corner when I found them. I shouted, "Tim! I have the keys!"

When I turned back, everything had changed. The street was now crawling with soldiers and police. A mustached man in a flak jacket aimed a shotgun at José's chest. At least 12 others pointed M16s at us.

The mustached man was screaming, "Do you understand that looters will be shot?"

We had our hands raised. "Get your hands in the air! Higher! Who are you? One of you come forward!"

"I'm a journalist," I said. "I'm going to walk toward you."

When I got to him, he pointed the shotgun at my chest. I did not like the look in his eye; he looked afraid.

"Get your hands up higher!"

I didn't think they could go any higher without getting on my tiptoes.

"Now very slowly lift your shirt up."

In slow motion, I did as I was told.

"Tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing here."

I explained the situation, showed him my press pass, and the fear left his eyes. He told us to get out of Dodge, fast.

This is what New Orleans has become. A storm hits, the city floods, and humanity is tested. Black turns against white, white against black. Latex gloves dangle from a sapling beside a human body decomposing at the door of the health clinic. There are orders to shoot to kill unarmed people caught stealing. Men beat other men with sticks for looking into their cars.

The story of New Orleans is unfinished, but this I believe, because I have seen it: For every looter who would shoot at a rescue boat, there are a thousand stranded victims who would share their last bottle of water. For every ideologue who denigrates the efforts of hard-working volunteers, there are a hundred people who will sacrifice to help others -- even foregoing a visit to an injured grandchild to deliver food to those in need. For every person despairing in their loss, there are dozens returning with humor and the hope to rebuild. Yes, there is confusion, corruption, incompetence and fear. But there is also human goodness, and that is what will endure.

From Reader's Digest - November 2005

 

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