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But FEMA has told us we cannot take the pets. They told that we could
not take one cat or dog in our boats," Miller said. "It's a stupid rule.
More people are going to die because of that."
Contact FEMA and demand that they change this rediculous rule which will
only succeed in causing MORE DEATHS of both humans and non-humans alike.
FEMA fax #1-800-827-8112
8 Sep 2005
http://www.2theadvocate.com/cgi-bin/printme.pl
Pet owners refusing to leave homes
Rescuers say efforts disorganized
By SANDY DAVIS
NEW ORLEANS -- David Woodsum poked his head out the attic window of his
flooded house on Gladiolus Street on Tuesday and yelled at the men
sitting in the flat bottom boat.
"I'm not leaving," Woodsum said. "I won't leave my two cats."
Pets appeared to be the No. 1 reason many of the estimated 10,000
residents still holed up in their flooded homes are refusing to leave.
"I don't know why the government won't let us take these people's pets
out," said Steve Miller of Dutchtown, a volunteer who navigated his flat
bottom boat down the flooded streets trying to persuade residents to
leave.
"But FEMA has told us we cannot take the pets. They told that we could
not take one cat or dog in our boats," Miller said. "It's a stupid rule.
More people are going to die because of that."
Miller was one of about 40 other men from the Baton Rouge area who for
the past five days have been hauling boats to New Orleans daily to try
and help with the rescue effort in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
They were told Tuesday that search-and-rescue efforts would end in the
next few days.
"Please come with us," Duke Ramey, one of the men in Miller's boat,
yelled at Woodsum. "No one is going to bring you more food and water.
The boats and helicopters aren't coming back. This could be your last
chance to get out."
But Woodsum was steadfast.
"I'm not leaving my pets here to die," Woodsum yelled at the men in the
boat.
"But if you don't come with us, you might die," Ramey said.
Woodsum was undeterred by the arguments. He refused to leave and Miller
had no choice but to start the boat and move on.
"I just want to help," Miller said as his voice boomed out in the eerily
empty, flooded streets.
"Search and Rescue," he yelled at no one. "If you want to leave your
home, please come out."
Most of the people rescued Tuesday were men.
As the boats floated down the streets, bumping over elevated railroad
tracks and bobbing grocery carts, Miller said his experience as a
volunteer has been "100 percent frustrating."
"Everyone of these men have had enough of bureaucracy," Miller said.
"And that's saying it nicely."
Miller said he answered a call from the Louisiana Department of Health
and Hospitals on Friday to bring his boat and join the search-and-rescue
efforts in New Orleans.
"I called everybody I knew and so did a lot of other people," Miller
said.
They were all told to bring their boats and meet at Jimmy Swaggart
Ministries in Baton Rouge late Friday afternoon.
"We ended up with two miles worth of boats," said Leon Tarnto, one of
the Baton Rouge area volunteers. "We had 92 boats and more than 200 men
who volunteered."
And that's where the good news ended.
"This is one of the biggest fiascos I've ever seen," Tarnto said. "There
were no leaders, nobody knew what to do or where to go. We ended up
sitting on the sides of roads for hours."
Every day since they joined the effort, the men have met at one of
Swaggart Ministries' buildings at 2 a.m.
"I thought we were going to get an early start," Tarnto said. "Instead
we sit there for hours doing nothing, and then we sit on the side of the
road in New Orleans doing nothing. These people have no idea what
they're doing and that includes FEMA and DHH."
Each day, the number of Baton Rouge area boats and volunteers has
dwindled until there were only 22 boats Tuesday.
"Why should they waste their time," Miller said. "We want to help, but
these government people just don't get it. It's so frustrating."
Each day, the volunteers said they were turned away from the rescue
effort for one reason or another.
"We went over to Chalmette one day where they desperately needed help,
and we were turned away because some inmates escaped," Ramey said. "Who
cares? Why should that stop us from going in there? That parish (St.
Bernard) estimated there were 7,500 stranded in their homes. Nobody's
been able to talk to them, and we get turned away."
Miller said that one day he became so angry he broke away from the FEMA
sanctioned volunteers and, along with his brother, Mike Miller, searched
Orleans Street.
"We hooked up with the military," Steve Miller said. "They're the only
people that know what they're doing. We rescued about 25 people that
day."
And Tuesday, the volunteers were angry because they were sent into an
area that already had been searched.
"This has been the greatest waste of human resources I've ever seen,"
Ramey said.
"We've basically committed a mutiny," Tarnto said. "We've left DHH and
we're working with the military."
With soldiers and paramedics in the boats, the Baton Rouge area
volunteers continued scouring the flooded streets of northeast New
Orleans.
"We're glad to see you," said Thomas Richardson who has been at his
Verbena Street home since Katrina swept through the city.
"It's time to leave," Richardson said. "I have to say, I thought we were
better off at home than at one of those shelters."
Richardson and his brother, Gary Richardson, decided to leave once their
pets, including dogs, cats and a bird, were rescued.
"Some volunteer group showed up this morning and said they would take
our pets," Richardson said.
After the Richardsons were dropped off safely, Miller took his boat out
again.
The boat slipped past a skinny, brown-haired dog trapped on the flooded
roof of a small building. The thirsty dog lapped the polluted flood
waters.
"That dog won't live long," Ramey said, watching it drink.
As Miller yelled for residents to come out, sometimes the only answer
from the vacant homes was the yelp of a dog that had been left behind.
"Man, this is sad," Miller said.
As the men turned down Clover Street, Robert Jones sat on the front
porch of his flooded home.
"I'm not leaving," Jones said. "I'm doing just fine."
Two dogs played on the porch.
"There's no way I'm leaving my dogs," Jones said. "Thanks for stopping,
but I'm not leaving."
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