On March 28, 1963, Mr. Whitney Bartie filed suit in United States District Court, Western District Louisiana the Lake Charles Division against the United States under the Federal Tort Claims Act for the death of his wife and children in Hurricane Audrey. His case was based on the assertion that the U.S. Weather Bureau was negligent in warning the public about the deadly hurricane, than killed 390 people in Cameron Parish in Louisiana.
The plaintiff's attorneys claimed that the Weather Bureau was negligent in failing to five adequate warning concerning the nature, intensity, location, path, velocity, speed and storm surge as well as the time it would strike the Louisiana coast.
Bartie and his family went to bed on the night of June 26, 1957. They believed that they could get up the following morning and evacuate before the hurricane arrived. Broadcasts from Lake Charles were geared for residents a little further inland and statements such as “there is no need for alarm tonight and you can rest well tonight,” did not apply to coastal residents who could nonetheless hear the broadcasts.
The Bartie family awakened early on the 27th to flood water already lapping under their home. Their story was played out dozens if not hundreds of times in the low lying area. As the storm surge inundated their home, they were forced to the roof where one by one, Bartie’s family was ripped from his clutches and drowned. Bartie finally found refuge in a tree as was there for nearly 12 hours.
Negligence by the defendant was not established. No expert would testify that the Weather Bureau had been negligent. Dr. Noel Edwin LaSeur gave the most significant testimony, declaring that the failure to forecast the acceleration and intensification nof the hurricane in the hours before landfall was simply due to the state of the art in weather forecasting at the time. ?
The Court held that the evidence failed to establish the requisite negligence on the part of the Weather Bureau and ruled for the defendant.
The plaintiff's attorneys claimed that the Weather Bureau was negligent in failing to five adequate warning concerning the nature, intensity, location, path, velocity, speed and storm surge as well as the time it would strike the Louisiana coast.
Bartie and his family went to bed on the night of June 26, 1957. They believed that they could get up the following morning and evacuate before the hurricane arrived. Broadcasts from Lake Charles were geared for residents a little further inland and statements such as “there is no need for alarm tonight and you can rest well tonight,” did not apply to coastal residents who could nonetheless hear the broadcasts.
The Bartie family awakened early on the 27th to flood water already lapping under their home. Their story was played out dozens if not hundreds of times in the low lying area. As the storm surge inundated their home, they were forced to the roof where one by one, Bartie’s family was ripped from his clutches and drowned. Bartie finally found refuge in a tree as was there for nearly 12 hours.
Negligence by the defendant was not established. No expert would testify that the Weather Bureau had been negligent. Dr. Noel Edwin LaSeur gave the most significant testimony, declaring that the failure to forecast the acceleration and intensification nof the hurricane in the hours before landfall was simply due to the state of the art in weather forecasting at the time. ?
The Court held that the evidence failed to establish the requisite negligence on the part of the Weather Bureau and ruled for the defendant.
on June 28, 2006, 11:11 pm
I was actually in the Big Easy (again, on business) last year about a week before Katrina landed. At that time, she was merely a glint in the eye of the US coast, and the residents were aware, but their concerns were fleeting. I haven't had the chance to return to the city since. Today, I received directions from a resident co-worker to an area devastated by a levee breach; nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
I was initially a bit embarrassed when asking her for directions (I'm sure these folks have had enough of gawkers, paying tourists, cameras, and Anderson Coopers), as these are peoples' lives that are literally strewn about the streets; clothes, stuffed animals, cars, and remant spray-painted reminders of those lives lost (both biped and quadraped) in the devastating collapse of the levee just off West End Boulevard. When I exited the interstate, heading toward Ponchartrain, I looked about and was not as alarmed as I thought I might have been; things were still quite damaged, but nothing like I had pictured in my mind. I drove East along the levee around the shoreline of the Lake, and could see the aftermath, but nothing seeming too terribly dreadful. Then, after an about-face on what I'm assuming was Harrison, I drove through the neighborhood immediately next to the canal. This is where my heartache set in.
In seeing the Weather Channel and CNN clips and specials, I felt as though I had a conscious grasp on the aftermath. No. I was beyond ignorant to the anguish exalted by the mere material items in this neighborhood. These houses were still calling out in pain. No, not houses, homes. Like casualties of their own war, these homes were twisted, mangled, battered and bruised, each in their own unique way. There was no order; chaos was in absolute control over this neighborhood. Street after street told a new story - clothes still hanging in closets, visible from the street, the rest of the house around it in shambles; cars tossed into homes; a message reading "1 dog DOA in bathroom;" still another message, "Michael, where are you... call <number>."
Out of chaos comes order. With new construction underway, and countless workers buzzing like bees on the streets life will once again be normal. Like the phoenix, the city will rise from its own demise and will once again reclaim the title as "The Big Easy." The Phoenix - cliche only when left alone. But when reminded that this bird must still grow feathers and once again learn to fly before setting out on a new journey, the perspective of time becomes all too clear. Years will pass, and Katrina will live on in history books, weather almanacs, and clouded memories. Some will forget, moving on to their new lives, suppressing the pain and sorrow brought about by a tropical fury. Others will maintain a vivid memory, forever clinging to trees and rooftops, waiting for someone, God, anyone, to reach out to them and hold them tight. While even others will never have the chance to either remember or forget, their choice already decided by some other divine command.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and I hope it impresses upon you to make the right decisions in a time of disaster, impending or otherwise, and in times of need for your fellow person.
Reply to this comment