When the first Disaster Recovery Center opened in Pascagoula, Dave was quick to call to make an appointment. Of course, as any of you who quickly called one of these disaster recovery centers to make an appointment know, this consisted of over 72 hours of hitting redial to get through... only to get an automated response instructing you to visit their website for more information and then abruptly ending the call. It took about a week and a half to finally make an appointment. The first was for made for 9 am on some miserable day in September 2005. Dave was informed not to bring any food, water, pets, or children to the Recovery Center... He arrived at 8 am to find out where he should go... and by 10 am someone had at least asked him the time of his appointment.
At 6 pm that night he came back to my mother's house where we were staying to say they closed the doors while he was waiting in line and told him to come back the next day. The next day was the same scenario - 8am til 6pm - except this time the Red Cross was there and gave him a can of Beanie Weanies (and informed him that he could only get one can... and "No, you can't have more food for your family - we can only distribute food and water to those present here at the Disaster Recovery Center. Well, yes.. If you have four children then you should bring them. Yes - you're right - if FEMA told you not to bring your children then we can't argue with them, can we?") Other than that - not a whole lot was accomplished.
A lot of time passed with no word from FEMA... and a lot more fruitless conversations with the automated message system until one day we spoke with a FEMA rep who told us that they had no record of our application. That's right -- the application that took 20 hours of standing in line to file? Yes. That one.
We made an appointment for 9 am. This time we went to the Disaster Recovery Center together and defiantly brought the kids (no schools.. no daycares.. no bored teenagers sitting around in tents outside their homes looking for a babysitting stint...) . It was boiling hot out and we all waited outside in line. I have to say - I honestly thought we were waiting outside because inside was too crowded to house us all.. especially judging by our outdoor numbers... But it was hot and miserable. We sat in the shade of a giant handmade sign that said as angrily as a sign can be painted "THE RED CROSS IS NOT HERE" until the line moved forward. At 5 pm we made it to the little table outside the front door where we were not-so-warmly greeted by a bored man who told us to come back the next day at 1 pm. "But.. we had an appointment..." Without looking up the bored (and now visibly irritated) man told us we had an appointment to schedule a time to speak with a FEMA representative. So we had an appointment.. to make an appointment. We turned to walk away as a security guard barked "And by the way - you can't have kids here."
At 12:30 pm we all showed up at the Disaster Recovery Center again and waited in line until approximately 3pm before Dave tried to break line to inform someone that we had already made an appointment to make an appointment and that that appointment had passed by two hours. He was answered with a very abrupt "Stay in line - we aren't talking to anyone out of order" from a man with a gun strapped to his hip. Dave is a very sweet and patient man and simply quietly got back in line.. but I know he could feel me reaching my boiling point just behind him... At 4 pm we made it to the little table again where a new bored man informed us as if we were morons that we were in the wrong line... the line for people with appointments was on the other side of the building. I could see security approaching in my field vision - as the bored man apparently knew immediately that this little piece of information at this particular time could cause just about anyone to snap into a frenzy and made a subtle gesture for them to come rescue him.
At 4:30 pm we found the line on the backside of the building where some folks in FEMA t-shirts were sitting on a folding table laughing and talking. As we approached they stood up and said that they weren't taking any more appointments for the day. That's when I started crying... and Dave breathlessly explained that we had waited in the wrong line and no one told us there was another line. Security approached quickly this time.. Someone is crying! We might have to shoot her! The FEMA folks exchanged nervous glances - slapped a photocopied 'pass' into Dave's hand and said 'Okay don't worry.. come on in.'
The inside of the building was relatively empty... except for about a dozen folks crammed in the cafeteria area and an entire regiment of security personnel running around with walkie-talkies. There were signs posted on various doors .. SBA.. Army Corps of Engineers... The Red Cross (with a handmade sign under it that read: "IS NOT HERE") and so on. The FEMA room was apparently the cafeteria place. Our escort sat us at an indoor fountain and told us someone would come get us shortly.
Moments later a security guard approached and told us the children were to be taken to the childcare room. I know I'm a little paranoid.. but I just couldn't handle the idea of sending all of my kids (including Emily the infant) off with a complete stranger to some unknown room in an unknown building with unknown people .. especially these unknown people.. I had a very strong feeling that my children would be lost, stolen, or sold before we ever got out of there. So I refused. The guard mumbled into his walkie talkie and walked away. We were then approached by an official-looking man in a suit who told us we had to leave if I insisted on not following the rules. We got a long speech about how there were many people who needed help..(that's right.. and they're all baking outside in the parking lot) and those of us who didn't follow the rules were simply bogging down the process (because we might actually get to speak to someone)... blah blah.
I grabbed the kids and smiled and nodded and said I understood and we went off in the direction of the 'child room' with absolutely no intention of putting them in it. The 'child room' was next door to the FEMA room - and totally empty. There were kids running all over the FEMA room near their parents. We ducked into the FEMA room and pretended that we thought it was the 'child room' since that's where all the kids were, afterall.
Once in the FEMA room - we were greeted as if we were supposed to be there and no one said anything about the kids again. So we had made it. A little more waiting and Dave took his place at the table with the FEMA rep while I kept the kids entertained. And it was over.
On the way home.. Dave told me that the FEMA rep pulled up our application on the computer as soon as he sat down and did not know why the phone reps said we had no application on file. So the whole trip was as much of a waste as I suspected it would be.
In our experience, at least, if FEMA or the SBA or any of the federal authorities were involved in any way... then we could just expect to be driven like cattle and spoken to like wayward children. We spared ourselves the experience of closing on an SBA loan... but I can tell you with certainty - judging by the attitude of the woman who called to make and confirm that appointment - it would have been no different from this experience: Read the editorial sent to me by Judy in Slidell.
By contrast - and to my utter delight and surprise - our MDA Home Grant application and closing experiences were downright pleasant. I love to complain. I love to complain about MDA specifically... But I just can't do it this time.
Our application center was located in a local mall. Appointments were made by phone - and those appointments were honored. The dragon ladies they had posted at the entrance were a little less than friendly, I'll admit... But once you proved your name was on the appointment list - and got through the velvet ropes into the center... All was well. No metal detectors or visible armed guards (though I'm sure they were lurking somewhere out of necessity). The staff on hand were ultra-friendly and professional: All smiles and offers of coffee or a more comfortable chair. Patient and understanding smiles and nods when you just felt like ranting for a minute off the subject. There was even a little table with lollipops and breath mints for us on our way out. For us, at least... Both application and closing went very smoothly and took less than an hour each -- including waiting time. However, there was no rush. Our team of application advisors as well as the closing agent... Remained relaxed and calm and encouraged us to raise questions or concerns. They were very clear about what would happen - they were even very clear about parts of the program that were still uncertain... But always pleasant.. and always very reassuring. Dare I say it? They actually seemed happy that we were there getting help.. that we were all finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.
Or maybe they were just well paid.
1 comment:
At the very least I would have expected Vienna cocktail sausages!
Beanie Weanies indeed!
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