My lack of posts is not representative of my writing activity. I have been writing too much. Is there such a thing? Well there is for blogs. I have been writing feverishly about Louisiana, New Orleans, and specifically FEMA trailers, but each piece has turned into pages and pages of writing much too long to post on my blog. It is good that I am writing. And the longer pieces will make the transition to book a bit easier, I think. But maybe I need to edit myself better? I don’t know; I am definitely a rambler but that is part of my charm.

Earlier today I ran across an article written by someone at FEMA about FEMA trailers. It was written prior to Hurricane Katrina (in fact it was from May 2000, in response to Kansas Severe Storms and Tornadoes; it was written just like that), and made note of the fact that the trailers were to be “interim” housing, but would remain in use for as long as needed. Don’t interim and as long as needed cancel each other out? Thought so.

The Kansas Severe Storms page also says this: “FEMA’s Disaster Housing Program is a temporary housing program designed to help people with their short-term housing while they work to solve their permanent, long-term needs.” Call me crazy, but doesn’t over two years seem like something different than short-term, and temporary?

So why are people still in trailer homes more than two years after the storm? I am sure that there are many reasons, and I want to address many of them here in the coming days. Even though there are many reasons, I think that they all have one thing in common; the reasons are all rooted in fear.

By staying in the temporary housing FEMA has provided, it is easy to ignore what has happened, well, not so much ignore it, but not digest the enormity of it. It is sort of like the denial stage of the twelve steps. By staying in the trailer, the resident can remain in a state of flux; they don’t have to move on with their life, acknowledging all that has happened. Even if the trailer is in the driveway of someone’s ruined house, they still don’t have to go inside and see the gutted interior. And honestly a lot of the houses look fine from the outside. It is sort of like they are staying in the trailer in the driveway while the house is being fumigated. It is easy to fool yourself into thinking that everything is okay when you are not smacked in the chest by the fact that it is not everyday.

I know; I did this with my grandmother’s death. When I was in Louisiana, I didn’t drive by her house that some other family was living in every day. In this way people don’t really need to acknowledge that their house is ruined, if they don’t sit in the empty dining room staring at the beams where the baby pictures used to be. It is easier to pretend sometimes.

I still have my awful cold, and am sleepy, so forgive me if this post wanders a bit at the end.
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