President Bush had just completed a visit to the 17th Street Canal breach. When he arrived back by helicopter, water was handed out to the Airline Highway evacuees. “It was hot,” Lukas wrote. “The heat was boiling up from the pavement; any water given to these exhausted people is welcomed with relish. This is tough to witness.”53
Lukas was also assigned to a film story on the evacuees who were being helicoptered into the ariport. For hundreds of choppers, it was an ongoing circle run between the disaster zone and the airport. Wandering around the airport later, Lukas wrote: “Baggage carts carry the evacuees as they walk off, and in many cases, [are] carried off the helicopters. IV’s are given on site…it is very hot and the tarmac is steaming. The emergency personnel try their best to shade the people from the sun with their hands. Litters are placed on the baggage cart to assist the victims. The elderly hold tightly to the medical staff…they are confused. This is an unimaginable scene. Inside the airport thousands of people are being attended to. Some have died, some are dying. There is an airline gate sectioned off by a white sheet where the dead and near-dead lay.”
By all accounts, the emergency personnel at the airport were full of compassion. Nurses were washing patients, getting them clean, even trying to decontaminate them. Fleets of ambulances were coming and going with sirens flashing. “Doctors, nurses, soldiers, firefighters, and police are attending the victims of the storm,” Lukas wrote. “There is a lot of crying…people are in pain. An elderly woman has just been brought into the morgue. There are so many elderly people. I cannot help but notice the swollen feet of many of the elderly…many cannot walk, they have to be carried. More victims keep coming in by helicopters and by ambulance. It is a constant stream.”54
IV
The focus of the Air Force One meeting was an analysis of how more could be done to help the people of Louisiana. There was no one present whose political reputation had been enhanced by the first four days after Katrina, and they each knew it. Inasmuch as there was still time for someone to ride in as the knight in shining armor, the meeting was also about giving that person a boost, or an elbow.
When Mayor Nagin and the Audubon Institute’s Ron Forman arrived at Air Force One, they were told to wait, since the President had gone to see the canal breach. An attendant on Air Force One, noticing Nagin’s filthy clothes, asked if he would like to take a shower. “And he says, ‘Yeah, I’d love to take a shower.’ There’s monogrammed towels and everything, all of the cosmetic perks,” Forman recalled. What was truly important to Nagin was that his head was shaved and waxed just right for his photo-op with President Bush. Like a primping teenager, he just wouldn’t get out of the shower. Guards rapped at the bathroom doors, telling the mayor, “You’ve got five minutes and then the President gets here.” They knocked again. But Nagin feigned deafness, wanting to smooth his head just right. It was the kind of personal task you couldn’t speed up too much. Finally, the attendant had had enough: they kicked the door hard and told Nagin to get out; the President was about to arrive. “Well, you know, for me [Air Force One] was a relief from everything I had been doing,” Nagin recalled. “From the standpoint that I got a chance to take a shower, which I hadn’t done in many days. For that, it was kind of nice…the President wasn’t on there initially and this attendant showed me a room, where I could shower up. Tried to get me to rush and shower. I got out of there eventually.”55
“Damn,” he said to everybody as he walked out into the cabin of Air Force One. “I wasn’t ready to get out of the shower! I was shaving my head and I was showering and, God, there was warm and hot water!”56 As Forman joked, “He would have stayed in the shower and missed the meeting with Bush.” There was something chillingly vain about Nagin’s sense of judgment and his coiffing with the underclass suffering all around him.57
When the meeting began in the conference room near the middle of the plane, each elected official around the table told a story of incompetence or lack of cooperation on the part of FEMA. Representative Bobby Jindal told Newsweek that “the president just shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.”58 If nothing else, the President’s reaction proved that Dan Bartlett and his other advisors had been right when they handed him a DVD of news coverage on the hurricane at the beginning of the day. It was inconceivable that the President hadn’t heard such stories; they filled the newspapers, radio, and television reports nearly all week. Yet it was apparently all news to Bush. Inevitably, the looming question of troop strength came up early in the summit. Senator Vitter pressed the point, along with Mayor Nagin. On Wednesday, as discussed earlier, Vitter had relayed messages from Karl Rove’s aides to Blanco’s office, suggesting that the governor assign authority over National Guard troops to the President. Blanco could not see how that would help. Indeed, it might hinder efforts. According to the 1878 Posse Comitatus law, federal troops could not participate in law enforcement; federalized National Guardsmen would be that much less useful in the real world of New Orleans lawlessness. Anyway, she had no reason to step aside and allow George Bush to play the role of hero. He, for his part, was less than enthusiastic about bringing glory to her door, if he could possibly avoid it. People following the joust over the troops noted that the White House had not made any suggestions that Mississippi governor Barbour relinquish command of the National Guard in his state.59 Blanco believed Bush’s “federalizing” push in Louisiana was a “paper reorganization,” part of the White House’s spin effort to blame her for the post-Katrina mess in Louisiana.60
Everyone at the meeting was aware of the tension between the President and Governor Blanco. Mayor Nagin saw his role as that of a stick of dynamite that breaks the logjam. Senator Vitter recalled that Nagin lost his temper, slammed his hand on the table, and insisted that a chain of command needed to be established. He was trembling, eyes wide, as he seemed to be inching toward a nervous breakdown. A chain of command had been established, by the U.S. Constitution and that of Louisiana, but getting it to work seemed to be another story entirely. The discussion was overheated, “as blunt as you can get without the Secret Service getting involved,” Time reported, quoting a participant.61
Nagin later gave his own version of what happened in an interview with Soledad O’Brien on CNN:
I said, “Mr. President, Madam Governor, you two need to get together on the same page, because of the lack of coordination, people are dying in my city.”
…They both shook their head and said yes. I said, “Great.” I said, “Everybody in this room is getting ready to leave.” There was senators and his cabinet people, you name it, they were there. Generals. I said, “Everybody right now, we’re leaving. These two people need to sit in a room together and make a doggone decision right now.”
The President looked at me. I think he was a little surprised. He said, “No, you guys stay here. We’re going to another section of the plane, and we’re going to make a decision.”
He called me in that office after that. And he said, “Mr. Mayor, I offered two options to the governor.” I said—and I don’t remember exactly what. There were two options. I was ready to move today. The governor said she needed twenty-four hours to make a decision.62
The President’s offer concerned the federalization of the National Guard troops. At stake were the 13,268 National Guard troops already assigned to Louisiana. The contretemps did not actually affect any federal troops. Blanco’s request of twenty-four hours to consider the President’s plan may have been ill-advised, since she had no intention of ceding power, but it ultimately did not delay further deployments. Late that evening, the White House sent Blanco a form, ready for her signature, granting control of the troops to the federal government, under an arrangement that gave Lieutenant General Russel Honore command of both her National Guard and the regular Army troops, stipulating that he would take orders from each of them regarding their respective troops—except in the case of a dispute, which would be settled by a team of judges. And in the meantime, the P
resident would prevail. It was a cockeyed proposal. Blanco didn’t sign it, but, consistent with her nonconfrontational style, returned a message the next morning acknowledging Bush’s choice of Honore as commander of the Army troops in Louisiana. She then called the White House to speak with the President and was told by Andrew Card that he was on his way to the Rose Garden to announce that with the governor’s permission, he was taking over command of the National Guard in Louisiana. She disabused Card of that notion immediately.63 For the time being, Governor Blanco had won a battle for state’s rights, long a tradition with Southern politicians of both parties.
As of Friday, Blanco’s Louisiana National Guard was about to be enhanced by 30,000 fresh troops. The cavalry was indeed on the way. They had one essential assignment left to complete: the evacuation of the Convention Center. Lieutenant Colonel McLaughlin was just finishing the evacuation of the Superdome when he received the orders. Here’s what he recorded in his diary on September 2:
We then get the mission to seize control of the Convention Center—it will be a combat assault to wrest control from the thugs/criminal element entrenched there amongst those who are simply trying to survive. Not originally meant to be an evacuation/shelter site, it was co-opted by a large crowd in the many thousands of families, old, sick, and bad guys. We launch our mission at noon and quickly cordon off the area from the aquarium along the river levee and the Riverwalk, to the bridge area and we set up 9 food and water lanes. I accompany a team to sweep the Riverwalk, we capture looters including one who had like a rat in a trap gotten into a cubicle he could not get out of (one of those with the steel chain security fences that roll down). The entire Riverwalk is looted, every shop and restaurant broken into, merchandise strewn everywhere and more senseless damage, the famous lobster tank at Anthony’s shattered with about 60 dead lobsters on the floor. In my estimation, 80% of the crowd in the Convention Center area is either wearing looted clothing (brand-new tennis shoes, shirts, hats with the tags still on) or carrying shopping bags/pushing carts filled with looted items. I found one guy with a brand-new North Face whitewater rafting drybag filled to the brim with looted items: 6 pairs of tennis shoes, 20 or so shirts, 8 ballcaps, 20 watches still in their boxes, about 40 Gameboys or X-box videogames, all brand-new—we turned him over to NOPD. Many, many people looted merchandise that was not critical to survival, unless one contends that DVDs, CDs, and 4 new pairs of tennis shoes, plus looted electronics will ensure survival. In my estimation, most looting was not for food and drink, which were readily available for free, it was simply opportunistic. I was stunned at the amount of looted stuff piled high in boxes, plastic storage bins, and shopping carts in people’s possession, and the massive amounts of looted stuff simply strewn about abandoned. Any reasonable American seeing what I saw in even a 30-minute span would vote for a shoot-to-kill directive to deter looting—it was criminal, despicable, and embarrassing to see people show no shame in openly carrying around looted items. In fact, many looters pranced about and flaunted the looted goods almost as if to brag “look what I stole.” It was a long hot day of patrols, stopping obvious looters, confiscating looted liquor. I broke at least 500 bottles of looted liquor, never thought I’d smash a $250 bottle of cognac on purpose, we were usually lied to about the origins of the looted goods (“I found this on the sidewalk,” “It’s everybody’s stuff now,” “My nephew gave this to me,” “I brought it all from home”)—it was depressing and you simply cannot imagine how hard it was not to smash someone in the face with a rifle butt after getting such a stupid answer. We fed everyone that evening and ran patrols all night—it was a calm and serene night. Very few NOPD officers in the area and we had just heard that approximately 500 or 600 NOPD officers were AWOL, you can imagine how we felt. We save their city and the CBD (Central Business District)—the few NOPD cars I saw simply drove through the crowds, and did not stop and offer help or info—in direct contrast to our efforts in working the crowds, letting them express their frustrations, giving them info (mainly about the bus staging efforts), and keeping the peace. Of my entire career, this took the most patience, the most intense effort to keep an equilibrium, and a determined effort to not simply beat the crap out of people who were openly stealing—I kept reminding myself that there were some good decent people in the crowd. We did rescue and shelter many tourists caught by the storm, a nice Spanish family from Barcelona, a couple from Russia, and many others. For the most part, the crowd was very angry with Mayor Nagin and with the NOPD; many remarked that we were the only ones giving them aid and info. There were tons of urban myths/rumors amok—any rumor you can conceive of.64
Clashes of egos occurred between the Louisiana National Guard—which had been trying to control the anarchy since Katrina—and the new, fresh federal reinforcements under General Russel Honore. According to McLaughlin, the U.S. Army acted as though the Louisiana Guard had screwed up and that the 30,000 additional forces dispatched to the Gulf South were going to have to mop up their mess. But in truth, by Friday, the Louisiana National Guard had evacuated the Dome and was in the process of clearing out the Convention Center. It hadn’t been pretty. But they had managed to seize control of the situation without the U.S. Army or the Marines. A symbolic showdown occurred on Friday between Colonel David Aycock of the Louisiana National Guard and General Honore of the U.S. First Army.
The Louisiana Guard had brought in Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Trucks (HEMTT), carrying pallets of water and MREs. “The idea was to have the feeding lanes orderly,” McLaughlin recalled. “Because we had 24,000 people to feed, we ordered some forklifts to help with the distribution process.” Just before the forklifts arrived, General Honore suddenly showed up in the parking lot with three television cameras in tow. He was chewing his trademark cigar, barking orders at everybody, trying to play “the John Wayne dude” Mayor Nagin so admired. Honore ordered David Aycock of the Louisiana National Guard to “dump his loads,” to drop the water pallets to the ground from the trucks so that evacuees could take what they needed. “You see, we didn’t want to just dump the pallets because we were dealing with water,” McLaughlin recalled. “You don’t want the bottles to break. The MREs would probably survive. But if you just dropped them on the pavement anarchy would break out. We wanted to keep the distribution lanes as orderly as possible.” Colonel Aycock said calmly, “Sir, we’ve sent some people to get forklifts.”65
At that Honore went ballistic, cursing up a storm. “Get the fucking HEMTTs and dump all that shit,” he barked. “What kinda fool are you?” Without question, General Honore was right. When people are dying of thirst, you don’t make them queue up in lines as though they were waiting to see a rock ’n’ roll concert. You dump the water, fast. Yet it was also true that the Louisiana National Guard had been holding Fort New Orleans while President Bush tragically hesitated in sending in the federal reinforcements. General Honore could have pulled Colonel Aycock aside for a brief chat, telling him why he wanted the water dumped. Instead he humiliated a Louisiana National Guard officer in front of his men. “I know what military leadership is,” McLaughlin said. “If you’re going to correct somebody, especially a full colonel, you take them to the side and say it quietly. But to bawl out a full colonel in front of three media people, for a sound bite? I was sick in the pit of my stomach. What General Honore was saying was ‘I’m here. I’m in control. You locals are worthless.’”66
For the same reason, the implication of the meeting on Air Force One was troubling to Governor Blanco. While General Honore was tacitly exerting control over her National Guard, he did not command them and she wanted to keep it that way. To that end, she was trying to defend Louisiana’s legal rights with the President of the United States. She wrote an open letter to President Bush requesting 40,000 additional troops. She coyly insisted that if New Orleans was to be rescued, the President’s “personal involvement” must be to “ensure the immediate delivery of federal assets needed to save lives that are in jeopardy hour by hour.”
While Blanco was making this proclamation, the Bush administration was already seizing control of New Orleans and blaming her—and the NOPD and the Louisiana National Guard—for the post-Katrina bedlam.
There are many versions of what exactly President Bush and Governor Blanco said as they spoke quietly on Air Force One. Bush had already gotten an agreement from Nagin to federalize the troops, though the mayor had no say in such matters. Blanco, of course, did have a legal stake in the disposition of the troops, and she remained skeptical of the notion of a federal takeover. She saw it as simply the Bush administration trying to scapegoat Louisiana for everything that went wrong. She felt the blame should have been firmly pointed at President Bush’s slow response, Secretary Chertoff’s disinterest, and Director Brown’s fecklessness. That Friday evening, President Bush made a frontal attack on Governor Blanco, dismissing her “open letter” and raising the stakes. “Around midnight, the power struggle was ratcheted up when the Bush administration sent Blanco a legal memorandum proposing that the governor request that the federal government take charge of the evacuation of New Orleans,” wrote Michael Eric Dyson in Come Hell or High Water: Hurricane Katrina and the Color of Disaster. “The Bush administration sought control of the police and National Guard forces that reported to Blanco. After talking throughout the night with administration officials, Blanco and other Louisiana officials rejected the offer for fear that it would amount to a federal declaration of martial law.”67
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