Many of us can bookmark our lives by certain events, and in my case, I can even do it in terms of my employment in Livingston Parish.
The first half began in March 2013 when I first took this job, not quite certain where it would take me or if I would last more than a week.
The other half started on Saturday, Aug. 13, 2016, when Livingston Parish and surrounding areas endured the worst flood event in modern history. It was certainly the most severe since the 1927 flood, which -- among other things -- obliterated the now-extinct Town of Atchafalaya, which destroyed the hamlet where my grandfather lived until its demise.
The 2016 flood, in many ways, changed Livingston Parish as we knew it, not unlike New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina or New York after 9/11.
In the grand scheme of things, people moved on with life after those disasters, even though hardships -- emotionally and, in many cases, financially -- have lingered.
The “Pollyannas” of the world will always remind us things could have been worse. It does little to appease those who continue to recover today, nor does it hold much weight with those of us in the media, most of whom are cynics by nature.
The video and personal accounts of the earthquake and tsunami that wiped out the city of Paul, Indonesia, on Sept. 28 tells enough to make many Americans consider if they should count their blessings.
The combination of a 7.5-magnitude earthquake and a tsunami on the west coast of the Sulawesi island have left more than 70,000 homeless and killed more than 1,400. Thousands remain missing and all bets are off as to how many remain alive.
The loss of homes, electricity and running water have residents in the city of 370,000 trying to survive by any means possible. Many have relegated to drinking water from puddles. Any chance of help in the search for survivors remains limited in areas now remote because of broken roads, landslides and crippled communications.
The sight of children sleeping on streets makes the story even more sobering. In many cases, those children do not know the whereabouts of their parents.
The shortage of food, shelter, water and fuel have turned the area into a war zone.
“War zone” was a term I heard frequently during the time I spent at some of the rescue areas during the weekend of the 2016 flood.
It was a harrowing experience to watch a very hot and muggy day as residents waited for Army trucks to bring them from the convenience store parking lot to rescue shelters where they slept on a hard flood amid several hundred other evacuees. For many, rescue centers such as the Tony Dugas North Park Rec Center seemed akin to Ellis Island.
One should never downplay the hardships that residents in Livingston Parish and so many other areas across Louisiana endured in 2016.
At the same time, we had help from so many volunteer groups -- much of it from surrounding parishes and plenty from out of state and abroad -- that helped immensely in the weeks after the flood.
The many roadblocks insurance and governmental bureaucracy have created after natural disasters have rightfully raised the ire of Americans, whether it’s been due to floods, hurricanes or forest fires.
From all indications, the recovery may move much more slowly for the victims in Indonesia. They don’t have the benefit of the many volunteer groups that have helped us, nor do they have the luxury of emergency response agencies that can react almost immediately as we saw here.
We have waited long on different aspects of recovery, but many aspects of normal life returned not long after the flood. We have enjoyed the action under the Friday night lights, students have returned to school, businesses reopened, festivals have continued and residents -- at least many of them -- have returned home.
Many of the aspects of recovery we take for granted in Livingston Parish and across the United States will likely take longer -- much longer -- in Indonesia.
Even as some frustrations linger in post-flood life, the horrific plight in Indonesia serves as yet another reminder why we should count our blessings.
Many of us can bookmark our lives by certain events, and in my case, I can even do it in terms of my employment in Livingston Parish.
The first half began in March 2013 when I first took this job, not quite certain where it would take me or if I would last more than a week.
The other half started on Saturday, Aug. 13, 2016, when Livingston Parish and surrounding areas endured the worst flood event in modern history. It was certainly the most severe since the 1927 flood, which -- among other things -- obliterated the now-extinct Town of Atchafalaya, which destroyed the hamlet where my grandfather lived until its demise.
The 2016 flood, in many ways, changed Livingston Parish as we knew it, not unlike New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina or New York after 9/11.
In the grand scheme of things, people moved on with life after those disasters, even though hardships -- emotionally and, in many cases, financially -- have lingered.
The "Pollyannas" of the world will always remind us things could have been worse. It does little to appease those who continue to recover today, nor does it hold much weight with those of us in the media, most of whom are cynics by nature.
The video and personal accounts of the earthquake and tsunami that wiped out the city of Paul, Indonesia, on Sept. 28 tells enough to make many Americans consider if they should count their blessings.
The combination of a 7.5-magnitude earthquake and a tsunami on the west coast of the Sulawesi island have left more than 70,000 homeless and killed more than 1,400. Thousands remain missing and all bets are off as to how many remain alive.
The loss of homes, electricity and running water have residents in the city of 370,000 trying to survive by any means possible. Many have relegated to drinking water from puddles. Any chance of help in the search for survivors remains limited in areas now remote because of broken roads, landslides and crippled communications.
The sight of children sleeping on streets makes the story even more sobering. In many cases, those children do not know the whereabouts of their parents.
The shortage of food, shelter, water and fuel have turned the area into a war zone.
"War zone" was a term I heard frequently during the time I spent at some of the rescue areas during the weekend of the 2016 flood.
It was a harrowing experience to watch a very hot and muggy day as residents waited for Army trucks to bring them from the convenience store parking lot to rescue shelters where they slept on a hard flood amid several hundred other evacuees. For many, rescue centers such as the Tony Dugas North Park Rec Center seemed akin to Ellis Island.
One should never downplay the hardships that residents in Livingston Parish and so many other areas across Louisiana endured in 2016.
At the same time, we had help from so many volunteer groups -- much of it from surrounding parishes and plenty from out of state and abroad -- that helped immensely in the weeks after the flood.
The many roadblocks insurance and governmental bureaucracy have created after natural disasters have rightfully raised the ire of Americans, whether it's been due to floods, hurricanes or forest fires.
From all indications, the recovery may move much more slowly for the victims in Indonesia. They don't have the benefit of the many volunteer groups that have helped us, nor do they have the luxury of emergency response agencies that can react almost immediately as we saw here.
We have waited long on different aspects of recovery, but many aspects of normal life returned not long after the flood. We have enjoyed the action under the Friday night lights, students have returned to school, businesses reopened, festivals have continued and residents -- at least many of them -- have returned home.
Many of the aspects of recovery we take for granted in Livingston Parish and across the United States will likely take longer -- much longer -- in Indonesia.
Even as some frustrations linger in post-flood life, the horrific plight in Indonesia serves as yet another reminder why we should count our blessings.
