Coastal Conservation Association (CCA)

Casting Comments
The Brotherhood of the Blue Tarp

By Ted Venker
TIDE
Nov/Dec 2008

Or the Sisterhood of the Slab.

Take your pick, but in addition to being active conservationists, a growing number of CCA members are also becoming unwilling members of these unofficial hurricane survival associations.

As the eye of Hurricane Ike was making its way directly over the city of Houston around 3 a.m. on September 12, it was easy to feel a kinship with the residents of New Orleans, Cameron, Beaumont, Gulfport, Biloxi, Mobile, Myrtle Beach and countless other coastal cities that have felt the wrath of a major hurricane in recent years.

How many of us have heard the roof creak and pop like an old sailing ship and hoped it would all remain nailed together in one piece? How many of us have seen a plate glass window actually bow inward or, stranger, outward? How many of us have sweated in the days leading up to a storm boarding up coastal structures, only to come back days later to find nothing but bare pilings sticking out of the ground?

Living 90 miles inland, I can still only imagine what it is really like to be at ground zero for one of these storms. That’s as close as I ever want to be, though, and even there funny thoughts run through your head as you watch the sky flash blue-green and you realize that all those transformers blowing mean you won’t have electricity for at least two to four weeks. Funny thoughts like, why on earth do I live anywhere near the coast?

Hurricanes can flatten entire communities and bury coastlines in debris, but they can also unearth some subtle truths. You realize in the aftermath that adversity really does bring out the best in people. That shared experience of fear and uncertainty quickly gives way to a shared determination to clean it up, patch it up, bundle it up, fix it up, and rebuild it better than it was before. The hum of a generator with extension cords leading to three different houses becomes a symbol of neighborhood unity. The simple gesture of sharing a bag of ice takes on whole new meaning.

News organizations practically fall over themselves to bring you the large-scale drama before, during and after the storm, but when the cameras finally move on, it is the regular people who make up The Brotherhood of the Blue Tarp doing small, extraordinary things house by house and block by block who ultimately make the situation better.

They say that character is what you do when no one is looking. Grit is what you have when you begin to clean up and rebuild when the rest of the world has moved on to the next headline. In the aftermath of a hurricane, grit and character become the bricks and mortar for a community.

Margaret Mead, an American cultural anthropologist, once said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." If you are a new member of the Brotherhood pulling on your work boots and gloves, those words are words to live by.

Hurricanes are harsh teachers and they believe in corporal punishment, but they ultimately teach us what it takes to survive, cope and persevere for that which we hold dear. It’s a tough lesson, but one worth learning.