Just as Katrina was more than a hurricane, its impact was more than physical destruction. It eroded citizens’ trust in their government. It exacerbated divisions in our society and politics. And it cast a cloud over my second term.
Soon after the storm, many made up their minds about what had happened and who was responsible. Now that time has passed and passions have cooled, our country can make a sober assessment of the causes of the devastation, the successes and failures of the response, and, most important, the lessons to be learned.
I replayed the scene in my mind: The storm damage was extensive. The governor bashed Washington for being slow and bureaucratic. The media fixed blame on the White House. Politicians claimed the federal government was out of touch.
The year was 1992, and I watched as Dad endured our family’s first bout with natural disaster politics. With the presidential election approaching, Hurricane Andrew had pounded the Florida coast. Governor Lawton Chiles, a Democrat, and Bill Clinton’s campaign exploited the devastation to claim the federal government had not performed. Their criticism was unfair. Dad had ordered a swift response to the storm. He sent Andy Card, then transportation secretary, to live in Florida to oversee the recovery. But once the public had formed a perception that Dad was disengaged, it was hard to reverse it.
As governor of Texas, I managed numerous natural disasters, from fires in Parker County to floods in the Hill Country and Houston to a tornado that tore through the small city of Jarrell. There was never any doubt about the division of labor. Under the Stafford Act, passed by Congress in 1988, state and local officials were responsible for leading the initial response. The federal government arrived later, at the state’s request. As a governor, that was exactly the way I wanted it.
As president, I became responsible for the other side of the state-federal partnership. I appointed Joe Allbaugh, my chief of staff in the governor’s office, to lead FEMA. After 9/11, he sent twenty-five search-and-rescue teams to New York and the Pentagon, the largest such deployment in history. Joe worked effectively with Rudy Giuliani and George Pataki to remove debris, support local fire and police, and deliver billions of dollars to help New York recover.
When I worked with Congress to reorganize the government in 2002, FEMA, an independent agency since 1979, became part of the new Department of Homeland Security. I thought it was logical for officials tasked with preventing a terrorist attack to work alongside those preparing to respond. But the move meant a loss of autonomy for FEMA. I don’t know if it was the reorganization or his desire to move to the private sector, but Joe Allbaugh decided to leave. He recommended his deputy, Michael Brown, to succeed him. I took his advice.
The first major test of the new emergency response structure came during the 2004 hurricane season. In the space of six weeks, four major hurricanes—Charley, Frances, Ivan, and Jeanne—battered Florida. It was the first time in almost 120 years that one state had faced that many storms. I made four trips to the state, where I visited residents who had lost their homes in Pensacola, citrus growers in Lake Wales whose crops had been wiped out, and relief workers delivering supplies in Port St. Lucie.
Overall, the four hurricanes caused more than $20 billion in damages, knocked out power to more than 2.3 million residents, and took 128 lives. The toll was immense, yet the loss of life could have been far worse. Florida’s governor was a strong chief executive who understood the need for state and local officials to take the lead in disaster response. My brother Jeb declared a state of emergency, established clear lines of communication, and made specific requests to the federal government.
FEMA responded by deploying 11,000 workers across Florida and other affected states, the largest operation in its history. In Florida, FEMA sent 14 million meals, 10.8 million gallons of water, and nearly 163 million pounds of ice. The agency then helped deliver $13.6 billion in emergency relief to suffering people. Mike Brown earned my trust with his performance, and I wasn’t the only one. A tough critic, Jeb later told me Mike had done a fine job.
The effective management of the 2004 hurricanes saved lives and helped victims to rebuild. Having tested our model against four consecutive major hurricanes, we were convinced we could handle anything.
On Tuesday, August 23, 2005, the National Weather Service detected a storm forming over the Bahamas. Initially dubbed Tropical Depression Twelve, it strengthened into a tropical storm and earned a name, Katrina. By August 25, Katrina was a Category One hurricane headed toward South Florida. At 6:30 p.m., Katrina ripped off rooftops with eighty-mile-per-hour winds and dropped more than a foot of rain. Despite orders to evacuate, some people unwisely chose to ride out the storm. Fourteen people lost their lives.
I received regular updates in Crawford, where Laura and I spent much of August. The press called my time away from Washington a vacation. Not exactly. I received my daily intelligence briefings at the secure trailer across the street, checked in regularly with advisers, and used the ranch as a base for meetings and travel. The responsibilities of the presidency followed me wherever I went. We had just moved the West Wing twelve hundred miles farther west.
After pummeling South Florida, Katrina charged across the Gulf of Mexico toward Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. My senior aide in Crawford, Deputy Chief of Staff Joe Hagin, kept me updated on the developments. By Saturday, August 27, Katrina was a Category Three. On Sunday, it strengthened into a Category Four and then a Category Five, the most dangerous rating. The National Hurricane Center had also revised its projection of the storm’s direction. As of Saturday morning, Katrina was headed for New Orleans.
With Joe Hagin.
I knew the city well. New Orleans was about a six-hour drive from Houston, and I had made the trek often in my younger days. I loved the food, culture, and vibrant people of The Big Easy. I was also aware of the city’s lurking fear. The locals called it The Big One, the pray-it-never-happens storm that could drown their city.
Anyone who has visited New Orleans can understand their anxiety. The low-lying city is shaped like a crescent bowl. A system of levees and canals—the rim of the bowl—provides the city’s primary flood protection. Built by the Army Corps of Engineers, the levees had a troubled history. When I was governor, I read John Barry’s fascinating book
One lesson of the 2004 Florida hurricanes was that solid preparation before a storm is essential to a successful response. When we learned that Katrina was headed for New Orleans, I put FEMA on its highest level of alert. The government prestaged more than 3.7 million liters of water, 4.6 million pounds of ice, 1.86 million meals ready to eat, and 33 medical teams. Taken together, this marked the largest prepositioning of relief supplies in FEMA’s history.
The military moved assets into place as well. Admiral Tim Keating—the head of the new Northern Command, which we created after 9/11 to protect the homeland—deployed disaster-response teams to the Gulf Coast. The Coast Guard put its choppers on alert. More than five thousand National Guard personnel in the affected states stood ready. Guard forces from other states were prepared to answer calls for assistance. Contrary to later claims, there was never a shortage of Guardsmen available, either because of Iraq or any other reason.
All of this federal activity was intended to support state and local officials. My team, led by Secretary of Homeland Security Mike Chertoff—a brilliant lawyer and decent man who had resigned his lifetime appointment as a federal judge to take the job—stayed in close touch with the governors of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida. Governor Blanco requested an emergency declaration allowing Louisiana to use federal resources to pay for and support her state’s disaster-response preparations. Only once in recent history—before Hurricane Floyd in 1999—had a president issued an emergency declaration before a storm made landfall. I signed it Saturday night, along with similar declarations for Mississippi and Alabama the next day.
At a briefing with Mike Chertoff.
On Sunday morning, the National Hurricane Center described Katrina as “not only extremely intense but also exceptionally large.” Mayor Nagin had given instructions for a voluntary evacuation. I knew New Orleans well
