(snip) It had been a decade since they arrived in Nebraska, a state they had known nothing about until Hurricane Katrina stripped their New Orleans home down to its floorboards on Aug. 29, 2005. They had traveled with their five children to shelters, church basements and an overcrowded motel, where one day a FEMA official announced that a church in Nebraska was offering to sponsor a family and asked whether anyone wanted to go. Nine hours later, they were on their way to the airport, a family of seven with a single carry-on bag and no idea where they were headed. They landed in Omaha, where the streets were wide and quiet; and then they were driven into the surrounding farmland, which started to smell of manure; and then they came into tiny Nebraska City, which at least had a Wal-Mart; and then they continued through 25 more miles of absolute emptiness until they arrived at what looked like nothing more than a junction in the road. One bar. Two gas stations. A main street of vacated shops and a squat municipal building decorated with a freshly painted sign. “Welcome Home Katrina Evacuees!” it read.
The town of Auburn, population 3,200, had provided them with a car, a four-bedroom house, job leads and free medical checkups. The Ladies Club stopped by with homemade casseroles. Goodwill delivered jeans and pearl-snap shirts.
“You’re one of us now,” a city councilman had written to them, even though no one else in Auburn was black, Southern, urban and poor. “We’re a close community that leaves no one behind in a time of need. You’ll be taken care of here.”
http://www.washingtonpost.com/sf/national/2015/08/29/youre-one-of-us-now/
Really, really sad situation. The people of the town had very good intentions, but no real clear idea of how much help this family would need long-term.
The only bright spot is that their daughter is doing very well.
