希望是一种选择.docVIP

希望是一种选择 　　Hurricane Katrina was one of the most devastating tragedies in American history. When Katrina slammed the Gulf Coast and ravaged the city of New Orleans in August of 2005, I was working for HUD in Oklahoma City. One day, our quiet office housed a team of twelve foreclosure specialists. The next week, our staff grew to more than three hundred Katrina Disaster Relief reps. Our job: assist affected homeowners with mortgage issues and aid those on rental assistance with relocation efforts. 　　At the time Katrina hit, I had my own personal issues. The demands of taking care of my aging father as well as my son who was having trouble in school were wearing me thin. Coupled with the overtime that the disaster required, I left the office most days emotionally drained. How could I help others when I was struggling myself? 　　Since our hotline was given prominent media exposure, we handled thousands of calls per day, many of which had nothing to do with housing needs. Evacuees had limited contact with the outside world since their cell phones had died and their laptops had floated away. Sitting for days in crowded makeshift shelters miles from home, they waited and waited―just for a chance to use the phone. Our phone lines never quit ringing. 　　I spoke with countless victims who were desperately trying to locate family members lost in the flood. They all needed assistance with housing, food and clothing. The monumental task of rebuilding or relocating was overwhelming. I listened to story after story of horrid details: families who lost every piece of furniture, every article of clothing, every picture ever taken. Cherished mementos and every remnant of their past―gone forever. 　　Very few had jobs to which they could return, so paychecks quit coming and money ran out. Devastation set like concrete. It took weeks before any federal assistance was available to the majority. Some received none. 　　At times, I would just wipe my eyes and say, “I’m so sorry.” That was