Where There is Hope: The Story of Steve
by William Rivers Pitt, Truthout.org
Although
we have seen many examples of incompetence and the lack of a much
needed sense of urgency to help those whose lives have been completely
devastated by the hurricane, it is comforting to know that there is
sometimes a rainbow after the storm. This story is beyond compelling…
it is just one example of how even the worst tragedy can bring out the
very best in people.
In cold blood he leapt into burning Etna.
— Horace
Paging Oprah Winfrey. You're going to want to sit up and take notice of this one.
So
there's this guy named Steve, who grew up in Lowell, Massachusetts.
Steve is what you would describe as an average guy, works construction,
went to a tech/voc high school, a townie with oak leaf clusters. A
solid citizen. A good man.
A little
back story, to set the Steve stage, to tell you about the kind of man
he is. Steve loved this woman once upon a time, and dropped somewhere
in the neighborhood of two grand on an emerald ring for her. As it
turns out, the woman in question was barking-mad insane, and wound up
stabbing him in the back – literally. Steve got the ring back after the
relationship finished its little Hindenburg routine, and took it to a
bridge.
He fully
intended to toss the ring into the river under the bridge. He stood
there with the emerald band in hand, composing his thoughts. Across the
bridge came a very young woman with a couple of babies in tow. Steve
could tell right away that she was not anywhere near the well-to-do
neighborhood. Instead of giving the ring its symbolic drowning, he gave
it to the lady with the babies. He told her how much it was worth, and
told her to pawn it, told her in the best Steve Miller fashion to take
the money and run. She flipped out completely, weeping with gratitude.
This is a Steve theme. Now you know what you need to know about the man.
Anyway,
Steve fell in love with a woman from New Jersey named Linda. Linda at
some point last year got fed up with Jersey and checked out to New
Orleans. New city, new culture, new climate, new everything. Everything
was cool, until Katrina showed up. Steve lost track of Linda, as did
her family, as did the country, once her city got wiped off the map.
Steve
sat and watched CNN like the rest of us, and called Linda repeatedly to
no avail. He called her parents and asked if they had heard from her,
and they hadn't, and were flipping out. Finally, two Sundays ago, he
said enough was enough. He told his boss that he was heading to New
Orleans to find her, and his boss cut him two paychecks to help him. He
called Linda's father and said he was going to find her and bring her
back if it killed him. He hopped a plane to the closest available spot,
and poured himself into the worst, most dangerous place in America, to
find the woman he loved.
Snapshots of Steve in the Big Easy:
He
banged from one shelter to another, to another, doing a loop through
the five of the biggest shelters over several days looking for Linda.
At some
point, Steve got his hands on a flat-bottom boat and rowed around the
city. He found dozens and dozens and dozens of people, and rowed them
to shelters. He saved perhaps a couple hundred lives.
One day, he met Harry Connick Jr. at a shelter, and asked him if he had seen a pretty white girl named Linda.
One day,
he met an Iraq veteran in a shelter who was just back, who was
permanently in a wheelchair from shrapnel wounds, who was desperate to
do what Steve was doing, who had lost his whole family to the storm.
One day, he pounded through a rooftop to pull people out of their attic.
One day,
he heard a baby crying in a house, and went in to find the baby on the
floor in between two dead bodies, and took the baby to a shelter.
He
turned almost yellow at one point from the foul water. He got a fungus
on his feet from the water at one point. Doctors at the shelters he
kept checking, and kept bringing people to, took care of him. He rowed,
and searched, and saved, and looked for Linda. He didn't sleep.
And then, after days of searching, Steve found Linda.
She was
in a shelter, and was well enough given the circumstances. She lost her
mind when she saw him, Steve from Lowell in the midst of the worst
place in America. She didn't want to leave when he said they were
going. “It's martial law,” she said. “They're pointing guns at people.”
To hell with that, Steve told her, and took her out. They rowed, and
walked, and got on a bus to Baton Rouge.
He got
her new clothes, got her a meal, and got her in touch with her parents.
When Linda called her parents, her father asked to speak to Steve. “I
don't know what to say,” said Linda's dad. “I want you to come home. I
want to shake your hand. I want to thank you.” The next day, they got
plane tickets home.
I hope
Linda is smart enough to marry this man. I hope Steve didn't catch
anything in that water. I hope everyone he helped rescue in his
flat-bottom boat finds their own personal salvation as best they can. I
hope the baby he rescued from between those bodies grows up to be a
wise President of the United States.
Thanks to Steve, of Lowell, Massachusetts, I hope.
(Source)
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