I got it wrong. Deeply wrong. Embarrassingly wrong.
It was a few days after Hurricane Floyd struck the coast on September 16, 1999. I’d been covering North Carolina politics for more than a dozen years by then, penning my syndicated column and appearing regularly on radio and television. Our discussion program “N.C. Spin” had debuted the previous fall on the Triangle’s Fox affiliate and was in the process of expanding to some two dozen TV and radio stations across the state.
During a segment of the show devoted to the desolation wrought by Floyd, I said something to the effect that North Carolina’s emergency personnel, government agencies, utilities, private contractors, and relief organizations knew what to do and how to do it. They didn’t need politicians holding press conferences and yapping incessantly about matters beyond their ken.
I thought I was praising the skill and determination of those at the forefront of the response to Hurricane Floyd, which devastated much of eastern North Carolina and killed an estimated 85 people, including 51 North Carolinians. I thought I was championing policy expertise over political exploitation.
What I was really doing was exhibiting my ignorance.
One “N.C. Spin” viewer was particularly incensed: then-Gov. Jim Hunt. One of the targets of my criticism, he let it be known through a mutual acquaintance that he considered my argument poorly reasoned. I don’t remember the specifics of what got passed on to me, but it was something to the effect that in times of crisis, political leadership is crucial.
Emergency responders aren’t necessarily sure what to do when. Agencies butt heads. Harried public and private actors misinterpret, miscommunicate, and inadvertently misinform. Sometimes they move too slowly, making people wait too long for rescue and relief. At other times they react recklessly, misspending scarce resources on lower priorities rather than waiting to make wiser decisions with a firmer grasp of the facts on the ground.
It is the task of leaders, elected and appointed, to make such judgment calls, to focus minds and referee disputes, to comfort the suffering, and to offer hope and reassurance to a panicky public.
Now, as North Carolinians grapple with the tragic aftermath of another monstrous storm, Gov. Roy Cooper and other political and civic leaders must rise to the challenge Hunt helped me grasp a quarter of a century ago.
Helene has ravaged western North Carolina. Her path of destruction is broad, deep, and jaw-dropping. Homes, businesses, entire towns crushed or swept away. At this writing, hundreds of thousands of people remain without power, some trapped in place by gaping holes or raging rivers. The death count, already heart-rending, will grow as more of the missing are found.
North Carolina will recover. We will rebuild. We’ve done it before. But there’s nothing automatic about the process. And we all have parts to play in it, whatever our roles, wherever we live.
If you have family or friends in the affected areas, keep trying to reach them. Once you do, offer help and comfort. If you’d like to contribute money, supplies, or volunteer time to relief and recovery efforts, there are many organizations well-situated to deploy your gifts effectively, including Samaritan’s Purse, Baptists on Mission, Catholic Charities USA, and Operation Airdrop.
At the state level, lawmakers have prudently accumulated $4.75 billion in our rainy-day fund plus billions more in unreserved credit balance. That rainy day is here. Localities will spend additional dollars from their own reserves, as will utility companies, cooperatives, and municipal agencies.
There are many tough decisions to be made, some now, some weeks or months from now as the full extent of the needs and priorities come more clearly into view. That’s something else I learned from past disasters. Some funds originally earmarked for reconstruction after Hurricane Matthew in 2016 have still not been expended.
Through it all, North Carolinians will look to our leaders for guidance and reassurance. Pray for them, and for us all.
John Hood is a John Locke Foundation board member. His latest books, Mountain Folk and Forest Folk, combine epic fantasy with early American history.