From: William Martin [mailto:wmarti4@lsu.edu]
Sent: Wed 8/31/2005 3:51 AM
Subject: The PMAC will never host an important event like it did tonight
Little did I know what I would be doing following Hurricane Katrina's
aftermath but as I type right now, there won't be a more gratifying or more
surreal experience I went through tonight. We went up to the office today
and held a press conference regarding the postponement of the game and it
was the right decision. As the PMAC and Field House are being used as
shelters we decided as an office to do everything we could to help the
situation.
At first, we were just supposed to make copies of this disaster relief form
for all of the people. The copiers will never print a document more
important than that. It's weird. Nearly 12 hours ago we were running off
copies of game notes for a football game that is now meaningless. We printed
the copies and carried them over to the Field House at 6:30 p.m. I wouldn't
leave the area for another 8 hours.
On the way back to the PMAC in a cart, it looked like the scene in the
movie Outbreak. FEMA officials, U.S. Marshalls, National Guard, and of
course the survivors. Black Hawks were carrying in victims who were stranded
on roofs. Buses rolled in from N.O. with other survivors. As Michael and I
rode back to the PMAC, a lady fell out of her wheelchair and we scrambled to
help her up.
We met Coach Miles and Coach Moffiit in the PMAC to see all the survivors
and it was the view of a hospital. Stretchers rolled in constantly and for
the first time in my life I saw someone die right in front of me. A man
rolled in from New Orleans and was badly injured on his head. 5 minutes
later he was dead. And that was the scene all night. What did we do, we
started hauling in supplies. And thousands of boxes of supplies. The CDC
from Atlanta arrived directing us what to do.
One of the U.S. Marshalls was on hand so the supplies could not become
loot. I asked him what his primary job was. He serves on the committee of
counter terrorism, but once he saw of the disaster, he donated his forces to
come help. He said the death toll could be nearing 10,000. It was sickening
to hear that.
After unloading supplies, I started putting together baby cribs and then IV
poles. Several of our fball players and Big Baby and Tasmin Mitchell helped
us. At the same time, families and people strolled in. Mothers were giving
berth in the locker rooms. The auxiliary gym "Dungeon" was being used as a
morgue. I couldn't take myself down there to see it.
I worked from 8 pm until 2:45 am. Before I left three more buses rolled in
and they were almost out of room. People were standing outside, the lowest
of the low from NO. The smells, the sights were hard to take.
A man lying down on a cot asked me to come see him. He said,"I just need
someone to talk to, to tell my story because I have nobody and nothing left.
He turned out to be a retired military veteran. His story was what everybody
was saying. He thought he survived the worst, woke up this morning and the
levees broke. Within minutes water rushed into his house. He climbed to the
attic, smashed his way through the roof and sat there for hours. He was
completely sunburned and exhausted. Nearly 12 hours later a chopper rescued
him and here he was.
We finished the night hauling boxes of body bags and more were on the way.
As we left, a man was strolled in on a stretcher and scarily enough he
suffered gunshots. The paramedic said he was shot several times because a
looter or a convict needed his boat and he wouldn't give it to him. Another
man with him said it was "an uncivilized society no better than Iraq down
there right now." A few minutes later he was unconcious and later pronounced
dead. I then left as they were strolling a 3 year old kid in on a stretcher.
I couldn't take it anymore.
That was the scene at the PMAC and it gives me a new perspective on things.
For those of you who I haven't been able to get in touch with because of
phone service, I pray you are safe. Send me an email to let me know. God
bless.
Bill Martin LSU Sports Information
Perhaps they are not the stars,
But rather openings in Heaven
Where the Love of our lost ones pours through
And shines down upon us to let us know
They are Happy
Inspired by an Eskimo legend