Surviving Katrina

Over a year after Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast, the area still struggles to regain a normal emotional state. On September 1, 2005, I was called in by the Louisiana State Veterinarian's office to serve as Director of the Horse Shelter Branch. It became apparent that many horses in the New Orleans and Folsom/Covington, Louisiana areas where either stranded or killed. Our mission was to rescue as many as possible with the ultimate goal being the horses return to their rightful owners. Volunteers from around the country arrived by the hundreds to help with the rescue efforts. During this operation, my group dealt with a vast array of emotions. There were tears of joy as one after the other, the horses and owners were identified. There were also tears of sorrow as these same owners recounted their losses. In most cases, the horse we rescued was the only possession they had left after the storm. We showed up to help because we love horses, we ended up becoming grief counselors.

Working in a disaster situation places you into unknown territory. Dealing daily with distraught owners carries a heavy toll on your own emotional health. In a leadership role, you must exhibit strength and clear thinking, this is not always an easy task to accomplish. Trivial situations which normally would not warrant a second thought can become all consuming. It becomes easy to fixate on small problems, allowing you to not have to deal with larger, more complex ones that can change someone's life. The sheer exhaustion of dealing with a crisis the size and scope of Katrina on a daily basis can cloud your judgment and lead to feelings of inadequacy.

After the operation, which was considered a success with all the horses sent home, you would imagine one should feel a great deal of satisfaction. This is not necessarily so. Living in a high tension, liquid situation for almost two months can create problems when you return to your "normal" life. Normal becomes an obscure state of mind. Rescue workers go from performing impossible, almost superhuman tasks, to worrying about daily, menial things. You get bored. For those who shine during a crisis such as Katrina, the situation and the actions required to get through it can become addicting, much like a drug. It becomes a rush which is very hard to describe.

Many of the rescue workers, myself included, found themselves mired in a rut of the daily grind after returning from the rescue efforts. The rush is gone but the uncertainty of the future remains. Many of us lost our businesses, marriages and other areas of our lives. This leads into the final emotional battle, that of feeling guilty. How dare the rescuers feel remorse at losing the rush they experienced when so many of the victims lost everything, including loved ones?

The end result is that most rescuers and relief workers never speak of such (in their minds) inappropriate thoughts. This internalizing can lead to depression, self doubt and self hatred. The reality is that we were all victims in varying degrees. The realization that life will never be the same again becomes a hard pill to swallow, but a necessary one. Personally, I cling to a moment at the barn one morning that helps me and hopefully other volunteers put the disaster and it's ramifications into perspective. An owner approached me, tears in her eyes and asked me a simple question. "Why are you doing this (volunteering) to help people and horses you never even met before?" My answer to her was, "If this had happened to me or my horses, I would hope someone would do this (volunteer) for me." In other words, we're all in this together and its OK to embrace our losses, whatever they may be.