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Edited on Sun Nov-12-06 05:17 AM by Divernan
I'd like to see the political appointees at the top of FEMA, the ones who successfully facilitated Albaugh-Brown-Chertoff in Bush's drive to gut the agency, get dunked, water-boarded or whatever. But this guy is one of the professional civil servants who put in 15 hour days, 7 days a week for months after Katrina hit - like most of FEMA's beleagured career civil servants. Don't forget that around the nation, FEMA employees were packed and ready to head for NOLA at least 4 days before the hurricane made landfall, as was their usual practise re: major natural disasters during Clinton administration, but Brown refused to take the responsibility to approve their deployment, and bucked it to Chertoff, who blocked deployment until several days after the storm had hit. Many who drowned would have been persuaded and helped to evacuate by FEMA professionals, but for Chertoff's decision.
FEMA Official Gets Dunked in New Orleans By RUKMINI CALLIMACHI Associated Press Writer
Nine-year-old Robert Weiss, who lost his toys during Katrina, stepped up and handed over a crumpled $5 bill. In a single, graceful motion, he slammed the ball into the dunking wall, releasing Josephson into the water with a splash. The crowd roared. In less than an hour, residents shelled out $250 to dunk Josephson. Several took repeat turns.
The dunking booth, a mainstay of county fairs, took on a political dimension a year after the Category 3 storm punched through the city's protective levees, submerging 80 percent of New Orleans. Politicians invited to be dunked who politely declined included Mayor Ray Nagin and Gov. Kathleen Blanco. No shows included City Council President Oliver Thomas and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, in charge of fixing the city's levees.
Wearing sweat pants, newly elected city councilwoman Stacy Head took the bone-chilling plunge. Her colleague, freshman councilwoman Shelley Midura, arrived wrapped in a warm jacket. "Please don't make me do it. I'm chicken," she pleaded — and organizers agreed to accept a $50 donation to the Broadmoor Improvement Association in exchange for her no-show. An hour later, she braved the cold water, raising more than $100.
After spending nearly 45 minutes in the dunking booth, FEMA's Josephson took off his sopping shirt and tried to warm himself with a towel. He explained that FEMA is a part of the community and allowing himself to be dunked was an attempt to show that he and his much-criticized colleagues are not so different from their neighbors. "It's all in good fun," he added, as residents thanked him and offered dry clothes and a place to change.
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