Words Whispered in Water. Sandy Rosenthal
done. In the videotaped recording, the listeners sitting behind Ms. Mittal can be seen registering expressions first of being appalled and then of indignation.72
Members of Congress at this hearing were led to believe that the people of New Orleans had brought this levee-breach situation upon themselves. One Congress member stated, “It’s obvious. It’s their fault!”73
Where did Ms. Mittal’s verbal testimony come from? Years later, after painstaking research, I figured out that the material Ms. Mittal presented in her verbal remarks was loosely based on what was, at that time, a twenty-two-year-old GAO report.74 Ms. Mittal had presented cherry-picked data from statements made by Army Corps officials in 1982. Ironically, the document’s final judgment, even with its tone of neutral “government speak,” reprimanded the Army Corps officials for their glacial pace in building the levee-protection system for New Orleans in light of the critical need for project completion.75
In recorded audio ten years later, Ms. Mittal readily admitted that her verbal testimony in September 2005 was “from three or four decades ago.”76 When asked if she still had a copy of her verbal testimony from September 28, 2005, she said no. When asked if she remembered who assisted her in preparing her verbal testimony, she said it was not retained. In my mind, someone had coached Ms. Mittal. The Army Corps has an established and documented policy of creating talking points for influencing people in high places.77
The damage from Ms. Mittal’s verbal testimony cannot be understated at a time when all eyes were watching and all ears were listening. In a phone interview on November 10, 2015, Sen. Mary Landrieu (D-LA) confirmed that videos of post-disaster congressional hearings—like Ms. Mittal’s—were circulated and became highly influential on members of Congress. When queried on whether she believed that this testimony may have biased or prejudiced Congress members against the people of New Orleans, the senator responded, “It was well understood that there was pressure from the White House, constantly and early on, to assign blame on the residents of New Orleans for the failure of the levee system.”
So, it began. Four weeks after the flooding that took the lives of at least 1,577 people78 and nearly drowned an entire city, our Congress had a false perception. And every resident of New Orleans would soon pay the price. The local officials were considered guilty until proven innocent. Years later, I searched the internet and could locate no congressional record of Ms. Mittal’s testimony. I also learned that no transcript of the hearing was sent to the Government Publishing Office. The hearing was also missing from a list compiled by the American Geosciences Institute.79 If it were not for C-SPAN—a private company—all information about the first congressional hearing may have been gone forever.
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The next day was a turning point for me. My husband forwarded a written story about Anu Mittal’s testimony to me that contained a link to download the full GAO report. Ms. Mittal’s written GAO report explained the history of the levees that encircled New Orleans. The key factor was that the Army Corps was charged by Congress for the design and construction of the levees. And the local sponsor was responsible for maintaining the structures once completed. Period. There it was in black and white. Energized by this report and by Ivor van Heerden’s admonitions in Grunwald’s Washington Post article, I formulated my own version of the flooding event: the federal government was responsible.
Two days later (September 30, one month and one day after the 2005 flood), Mayor Nagin unveiled his Bring New Orleans Back Commission (BNOBC) at a press conference in the high-rise Sheraton Hotel on Canal Street. Cochaired by Maurice (Mel) Lagarde (a white blue blood) and Barbara Major (a black woman who was raised in the Lower Ninth Ward), the commission was composed of fifteen men, seven of whom were CEOs. Three were bank presidents.80 Jimmy Reiss, chairman of the New Orleans Regional Transit Authority, had recommended that the commission also include education leaders, so Scott Cowen, president of Tulane University, was added.
***
Back in New Orleans at about this time, the Army Corps sent in teams of engineers to collect data in order to explain the levee breaches while it was also doing emergency breach-repair. The repairs were causing crucial data to be degraded. As this was happening, crews of independent civil-engineering experts attempted to access the levee-breach sites. But Dr. Paul Mlakar, senior research scientist with the Army Corps’ Engineer Research and Development Center (ERDC), denied entry to all of them over concerns for their “safety” and concern that their presence could impede emergency operations.81
One of these outside crews denied entry was an elite team assembled by the University of California, Berkeley, and funded by the National Science Foundation (NSF). It was called the Independent Levee Investigation Team (the Berkeley team),82 chaired by civil-engineering experts Raymond Seed and Robert Bea with the University of California as well as Dr. J. David Rogers, professor at the Missouri University of Science and Technology.83 The trio found it strange that Dr. Mlakar repelled them. After all, they were specialists with extensive experience in early arrival at major catastrophes, including earthquakes in developing countries where there were thousands of bodies in rubble and where issues like sanitation and safe water were even bigger problems than in New Orleans. Often, there were frenzied emergency-rescue attempts still going on. After all, these experts understood field operations and how to stay out of the way. Besides, they were a tiny group.84
Chapter
October 1, 2005, was a day of celebration! My husband, my son, and I moved into a little one-story house at the westernmost edge of Lafayette. At the grocery store, I bought ingredients for our first glorious, home-cooked meal in what seemed an eternity. While my husband prepared dinner, we realized we didn’t have an important condiment: salt. I ran to the house next door to introduce myself and borrow some. An hour later, Stanford, Steve, and I sat down in a real kitchen, like normal people do, and savored the most delicious chicken and garlic à la Mosca with rice. It was so good to be out of a hotel room! But we were aware of how lucky we were, and we continued to reach out to friends and invite them to stay with us if they were having trouble locating a place to live until they could return home.
Since we had a high-energy dog who needed multiple daily walks and since we were gregarious New Orleanians, we managed to meet every neighbor within a half mile. And when Steve made some of his famous homemade pralines and gave them away as gifts, that sealed the deal. We all became friends.
This was how we met Mr. Bouillon, our neighbor and savior for Stanford. The first question he asked my son was what sport he played in school. (Mr. Bouillon was the local high school’s physical therapist.) Stanford explained that he had not played any sports for two years due to a case of shin splints so severe that even walking was painful. Excused from all sports and physical education classes, Stanford had made the best of the extra time by teaching himself computer skills.
Mr. Bouillon listened and said, “But you’re missing your childhood! You should be running and jumping!”
Then Mr. Bouillon asked me if he could examine my son. For a few seconds, I recalled the three orthopedic physicians whom I had already brought Stanford to see. And then I responded, “Of course, you may!”
And off they went to another room. Fifteen minutes later they returned, and Mr. Bouillon asked me if he could take Stanford’s orthotic inserts back to his home and adjust them. After all the doctors and physical therapists we had seen already, I replied that if he thought waving a chicken bone over Stanford’s head would help, I would say yes.
Mr. Bouillon smiled in apparent understanding and took the inserts to his home. He returned an hour later and gave them almost ceremoniously to Stanford. In my mind’s eye, I saw a cloaked wizard handing Stanford a pair of magical shoes.
“Wear your inserts to school tomorrow,” he said. “When you get home, try running. Just try it and see what happens.”
The next day went like all other days. We got up at 6:05 a.m. I fixed Stanford his favorite