When the flood waters rise, so does the news coverage. We’ve heard about the deaths, the cities destroyed, the countless families who have lost everything and have nowhere to turn. Yet, among these tales of loss and despair, a stunning pattern emerges: everyday Americans become heroes.
In the last few years, the media has painted a slightly different picture of our country: one divided by hate and polarized by race and elections. The land of dreams has become a place where people are afraid to be who they are and share their beliefs. Now, more than ever, we needed a disaster like Harvey, if nothing more than to remind us of the goodness humanity is capable of.
I've noticed this phenomenon has occurred after every disaster this country has weathered throughout my lifetime. Every hurricane, terrorist attack and major disaster have shown us time and time again that we are, in fact, less divided than we have been led to believe.
Strangers risk their lives to save others, people travel across the country to help rebuild and charities collect money for tiny towns they’ve never heard of. Americans begin to assume the just responsibility of helping those in need. This feeling of responsibility is wonderfully shocking, simply because it goes beyond the reaches of empathy and into the realm of pure goodwill.
12 years ago, another major hurricane hit the South Eastern United States and wreaked unforeseen havoc. The devastation following Hurricane Katrina was unparalleled. Yet, there in New Orleans, we marveled at the stories that emerged of man risking it all to help fellow man. A 10th- generation New Orleans resident, Ken Ballau, could hardly bear to watch his community suffer. And while he had little more to offer than his time and a fiberglass fishing boat, he is still being heralded as one of the greatest heroes of Katrina.
Ken spent every day for three weeks in the floodwaters of New Orleans, collecting survivors, rescuing their pets, scavenging for supplies and offering a beacon of hope in an uninhabitable city. He is now credited with saving over 400 lives in those few weeks. He said the weeks “were hell”, and there were many times he considered leaving for the safety of his fiancé’s home in Long island. But every tour through the city drove him past more people who needed his help—more of his people.
Dozens of stories like this remind us that in these dark times extraordinary people exist as beacons of hope. Today cities like Houston begin to open universities and public buildings inching back towards normal. The stories of people who risked life and limb for survivors will eventually fade to legend, as these everyday people continue the long fight of rebuilding their city and returning to their lives of normalcy. But this fade will never make these stories unimportant.
All across the country, citizens are reaching out to help the strangers they are hearing about on the news. Just the other day, the cashier at my local Walmart pleaded with me to round up my bill a few dollars to send aid to victims of the Hurricane Harvey. We begin to offer our help in tiny and seemingly inconsequential ways, unaware of how many other Americans are having the very same thought. My dollar may only be a drop in the bucket, but that bucket is filling very quickly as people try to find any way to ease the burden of the survivors.
Even other countries are coming to our aid. As you read this article, Mexican Red Cross workers flood across the border, bringing with them food and supplies, manning hospitals and makeshift shelters in the storm-torn South. Kindness is uniting our people across borders and divides of all kinds.
In the wake of disasters such as Harvey and the upcoming Irma, we forget why we harbored anger and hate for so long. We put aside our animosities and prejudices and reach across to offer a hand to those who have fallen. Whether you’re risking your life in the fray to collect survivors, offering your time and service or simply donating spare change to the effort, you are why I have not lost faith in my country. You are an everyday hero.
