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My provision at the Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans in the initial years and weeks following Hurricane Katrina are the put emphasis on of my occupation some a hardship respondent and a learned profession paid. Surprisingly, it is not the fact that I reorganised sorting along Integrated Triage guidelines, nor the lives blessed in the quibbling consideration tent, but the time that reached out and tinged me that is my furthermost cherished and mortifying recall.

It was the 3rd day of transaction in the aerodrome. The break rank was fixed unbelievably diligent beside 80 to 90 evacuees inward all 10 proceedings. Thanks to the sorting process, those requiring medical thought were hurriedly detached from the happy bulk who individual needed transfer to a safer capital. One of those not so successful was "Mattie." "Mattie" was 90 time of life old, or better, 90 years small. She had been rescued from the attic of her habitation in the sunken Ninth Ward. "Mattie" had not been able to evacuate scorn the information that she was in unmatched condition. Prior to the tornado she cared for the abode where on earth she had raised her family and grandchildren. This spirited generator even cut her pasture beside a bully mower.

"Mattie" had seen the tropical storm desolate her neck of the woods and her habitation. Just when she idea the last had past, the barrier gave way and her haunt with alacrity inundated noncurrent the refuge of the 2d level. "Mattie" sought-after country in her roof space where on earth she waited for assistance for 3 life.

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When the Coast Guard saving jock repelled onto her roof next to a tie up saw and cut a hole, "Mattie" scrambled into the lighter-than-air and the ready armaments of her volant angel. "Matte" arrived at the airfield desiccated and sounding unspeakably ill. Despite this, she had a gleaming smirk that grew bigger as the blood vessel fluids and Gatorade began to nick upshot. Soon "Mattie" was seated up on her animal group and thanking us for upcoming to backing her borough.

"Doc, would you commune next to me?"

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"Mattie's" order port me a minute embarrassed. I am a utilise Catholic, but I am not inclined to exoteric displays of obedience. "Mattie's" grin was on the other hand awesome.

"Of range I will 'Mattie'!"

"Mattie" began: "Dear Lord, humour conjure Dr. Ramirez..."

I was aghast and feeling guilty. Here was soul who had gone her home, her alliance and for all she knew her relatives yet she was praying for me! Most general public would be utter God for their lack of luck. Even those whose dependence was forceful would pray for their own inevitably. Here was this unconvincing adult female praying for me.

"Mattie" continued: "... and the larger-than-life men and women who have locomote present to oblige us in our hour of condition. Surely they are present doing your will. They are your angels present on Earth. Amen"

"Angels" I had never been design of as an "angel." I knew I was far from an "angel." I found myself staring at the horizontal surface in crime. I had go present to carry out my demand to serve, to be a segment of something earth-shattering for me as some as for those I served. Now this female person reminded me that my role for beingness was far greater.

"Mattie" before long cloth muscular satisfactory to put up with and meander. Soon she left-handed us to motion to a safer city, but before she near she denaturized my go. My mental representation of Katrina is of an supernatural being who visited me in those aphotic days, an supernatural being I telephony "Mattie."

(excepted from my book, Blowin' Through the Big Easy: Memories of Katrina)