Dear Mr. President:
About a year ago, not all that far from where you were vacationing at the time, Hurricane Katrina wiped out much of Mississippi and Louisiana. In particular, New Orleans, one of my favorite cities, was completely destroyed.
I hope that this isn't news to you. I don't think it is, but it is really hard to tell what you know and don't know. I mean, I hear you talking about a lot of stuff, but you really don't make sense to me because you say one thing but it seems you are always doing something else.
Going back to last year about this time, I understand that the timing of Katrina was bad because the hurricane hit while you were vacationing. I know I hate it when my vacation gets screwed up, so I imagine that you really hate it too. I bet you didn't even want to deal with Katrina until you had to go back to Washington, much like I don't want to deal with professors who are giving me homework two weeks before school starts. It just doesn't feel fair.
Too bad Katrina had to be one of the strongest hurricanes ever recorded. I also hear a lot of people saying that it is the worst natural disaster ever in the United States. I have even heard estimates of over $100 billion in damage. Even for you, that's got to be a lot of money, right?
But, going back to your vacation — and gosh I love vacations too — I don't blame you at all for being on vacation. Plus, being the leader of the United States must be a really stressful job. I'm sure you really need your time off to relax.
When I'm on vacation, I just love to read. Most recently, I read a stellar account of the hostage crisis in 1979 and 1980 that President Carter actually seemed to deal with really well — they all lived — despite the fact that the way he handled it got him canned. Come to think of it, I bet you have to thank Mr. Carter, because without his perceived failures, the Americans probably would have reelected him, which means that Mr. Reagan would not have been president, your daddy wouldn't have been vice-president and both your dad's presidency and your own might have belonged to someone else. Maybe.
Going back to your vacation last year, I'm confused, yet again, and I'm hoping that you can explain to me one thing: when you were vacationing in Texas last year about this time, did you or anyone else in your family or your staff, or anyone you might be around or talk to on the phone, just happen to mention that perhaps you should turn on the television? Because, if you saw even one second of television this time last year, there would have been no possible way for you not to know that the people of New Orleans needed your help.
Perhaps Mr. Rove was on vacation, too, and he gave you orders not to disturb him; I understand that you can't make decisions without him. But, don't you think you could have at least broken protocol just once? I mean, Mr. Rove does work for you, doesn't he?
Instead of taking the opportunity to cultivate your image as a leader, you made a big mistake, and countless people died. At a time when the United States could have used Katrina to show people around the world how great a democracy can be when faced with a disaster, you didn't even step up to the plate; at a time when the United States needed to show people around the world that capitalism does not mean leaving the poor behind, you fumbled; and, at a time when the United States needed to give people around the world reasons to want to be Americans, you shamefully protected your own ass, giving the world a thousand reasons to reject everything American.
A year later, the bodies are still being counted, and you still have a chance to turn things around. If last August was the first inning, you are now in the bottom of the sixth, still down big time, but on your side you have the best players in the world waiting to get into the game, and you've got the heart of a city, still faintly beating, waiting to be resurrected and returned back where she belongs: among Americas finest.
Jason S. Ebin ([email protected]) is a third-year law student.
