Article archive / September 2017
Originally published: . Volume 8, No. 9. Source pages: 2.
Men in Boats by Times publisher, J. Nelson
One of the bright spots in the Harvey disaster was to see the civilians formally welcomed by Governor Abbott and the FEMA director. The two sounded like they had no fears about men in boats helping rescue people or perform as water taxicabs.
Being a member of the Cajun Navy does not seem to require credentials, does not require a regulatory license, certification, or paperwork. No continuing education, safety tests or CPR certificates. Apparently you don’t even have to have a last name ending in “eaux.” What is needed is a bass boat, something to haul it with, and the willingness to drop everything and go running off to the center of whatever watery disaster has befallen the rest of us, and put yourself at risk to save a life on those occasions that some misguided soul gets it in her mind to go riding around in a three-foot flood.
Who can forget David Phung?
David, a land surveyor, and his fellows, somehow came across a woman trapped in her vehicle. The video starts out comfortably enough––it looks as if all they have to do is pull her out of the car. But that doesn’t work. Then the car starts sinking, and then they can’t break the window, and then the car starts to sink faster. We even hear the woman, whom we can’t see, say something like, “I’m drowning,” as the car is going under.
David jumps into the water, stands on the front hood and somehow rips an opening in the convertible’s top as the car disappears into the murky water. He goes under and pulls an arm out and then the rest of her, to the surface. She’s gasping. She asks for her dog. Her dog? David dives around and finds the dog somehow, too.
The short scene teaches us first––never, ever drive in a flood. Second, it shows us just how many things can go wrong, how little margin of error there might be. And third, we see just how quickly a drowning death could happen.
The civilians like David haven’t always been as welcomed the way Governor Abbott invited them in and asked for their help. Even last year in Baton Rouge there were some reports of the civilian boatmen being told to go home by officials.
But it was in Katrina where the reports were that these local heroes trying to aid their neighbors were rejected. Blogger Tom Luongo writes that these “… volunteers were turned away under penalty of jail…”
And it was in Katrina that every available member of our Cajun Navy would have done the most good, a large American city that was not prepared. As the most fatal storm in the last generation, Katrina took so many more lives than any of the other large storms, and the toll was heaviest in Louisiana, with 1,577 of the 1,800 plus. The next most deadly storm, Sandy, was not even close, with 159 dead.
The masculine seems to be in decline in the culture, but not so much when it comes to this civilian, makeshift navy, a collection of boatmen with a share of risk-taking, competence, autonomy and altruism. Ah, who doesn’t appreciate the positive masculine.
Sometime since Katrina the Cajun Navy has authorized itself, and gained momentum and popularity. It is now a “well-oiled machine” said one of its members on social media when Harvey hit the Texas coast and Houston. Cajun Navy member Gary Davis posted, “GOD BLESS TEXAS. We got your backs.”
Some have remarked on the parallel to Dunkirk, where, if the story is true, the emergence of citizens may have helped to avoid a total defeat in WWII.
When things get desperate, and it seems we are in for a dose of disasters, more heroic men hanging around is much better. It is great to know someone has your back.
[Julie Nelson is a licensed psychologist, journalist, organizational consultant, and publisher of the Times. She also holds other various positions in the community. However, her opinions here are those of her own, and do not represent any group or association. She and the Times receive no compensation other than paid advertizing. Email her at drj@drjulienelson.com, ––she welcomes feedback.]
David Phung pulling a woman out while standing on the hood of her sinking car.
This article is part of a historical newspaper archive. Read the original issue for its original layout, photographs and graphics.