If you feel sorry for yourself - Day 17
...Take a trip to Louisiana. Yesterday, I flew with two other lawyers to Baton Rouge to work with employees of our company that are homeless and facing the challenge of rebuilding their lives. Those employees that the company could find have been housed in hotel rooms -crowded, but welcome. We explained the way that FEMA applications are supposed to work, and learned from them that, in most cases so far, it's not working.
Still, most of those we saw shared tips with each other and took at least that part of the situation in stride, seemingly realistic about how long it would take to recover and thankful to have what they do. Several said that it was all too easy to find others in worse situations.
One man, whose son has lymphoma, evacuated his family to a northern state where medical care could be continued. He just shrugged and said "what can you do", when I asked how he could deal with all that. There was a woman whose only possession from her old life was the wallet in her hand and she was glad she didn't have to replace the things in it.
Despite the "carry on" approach, there was an empty look and a downcast glance in the eyes of most everyone I met. You could see that they were traumatized inside.
It doesn't take much to appreciate light in the dark and John's situation seems pretty bright compared to all that I saw yesterday. He has ventured to Athens for a night and has begun to look into finding an apartment of his own with a roommate who has some paramedic training. We watch John's health carefully for the slightest things, but so far, he continues to improve and we are thankful for that one very big thing.
Courtney is now enrolled in the new SCAD Atlanta campus and living in the "dorm," a converted motel in Midtown. She has her own room overlooking the pool (if you lean far enough to one side and crane your neck.)
Still, most of those we saw shared tips with each other and took at least that part of the situation in stride, seemingly realistic about how long it would take to recover and thankful to have what they do. Several said that it was all too easy to find others in worse situations.
One man, whose son has lymphoma, evacuated his family to a northern state where medical care could be continued. He just shrugged and said "what can you do", when I asked how he could deal with all that. There was a woman whose only possession from her old life was the wallet in her hand and she was glad she didn't have to replace the things in it.
Despite the "carry on" approach, there was an empty look and a downcast glance in the eyes of most everyone I met. You could see that they were traumatized inside.
It doesn't take much to appreciate light in the dark and John's situation seems pretty bright compared to all that I saw yesterday. He has ventured to Athens for a night and has begun to look into finding an apartment of his own with a roommate who has some paramedic training. We watch John's health carefully for the slightest things, but so far, he continues to improve and we are thankful for that one very big thing.
Courtney is now enrolled in the new SCAD Atlanta campus and living in the "dorm," a converted motel in Midtown. She has her own room overlooking the pool (if you lean far enough to one side and crane your neck.)
