By: Douglas Moran
Situation: Hurricane Agnes Flood, Painted Post NY, 1972
The National Guard helicopters arrived shortly after day break during the flood and were invaluable in rescuing trapped people, and National Guard truck convoys carrying supplies started arriving within a couple of days. However, National Guard "boots on the ground" didn't arrive until the end of the first week.
On the first day they were present, I was coming home from yet another full day working cleanup. I was stopped at a checkpoint three blocks from home by a soldier with his automatic rifle at the ready. He all but pointed the rifle at me, even though there had been no problems in the area and I was following his instructions. He barked commands and questions at me.
I left the checkpoint with real anger. Part of that was that I was a typical territorial male, a territoriality that becomes stronger during times of stress: He was a stranger on my turf, ordering me around like I was slime. Part of it was that he hadn't "paid his dues." I hadn't had a shower since the flood. My clothes were caked with mud and sweat. I hadn't had warm food - the food kitchens were too far from where I was working. My muscles ached. My arms were burned from holding filing cabinets while they were being cut open with a torch. And he was standing there in a clean uniform that looked to still have creases, hassling people who were doing the real recovery work. (Note: checkpoints do become advisable at roughly this point in a disaster, anticipating the descent of gawkers and crooks).