Oakville, FEMA, and One Excellent Comment

In Oakville, Iowa, even the Methodist Church could not save the tiny town from the flood waters. The Mississippi, Cedar, and Iowa rivers tore through Iowa like a locomotive causing damages in the billions. FEMA was on the spot immediately promising relief. Will the government deliver on their promise? David Heigham, posting a comment on MarginalRevolution.com, Lessons from Katrina for Iowa, writes the following:

" It is said of that most virtuous of Emperors Asoka that one day when he was riding through his lands he was appalled to see a tiger in the distance about to spring upon an old woman. To his amazement the woman was saved by a young man with a stick confronting and driving off the tiger. He called the young man before him, and soon found that the young man was wise and intelligent beyond all expectation despite his lack of years and of learning. Asoka promised the young man a rich and eminent future in his court. He would send for the young man before the next monsoon.
Asoka charged his third vizier to attend to the matter as soon as the court returned to the palace. The third vizier charged his second clerk to prepare the necessary letter of authority when the court had returned to the palace. The second clerk wrote a note to the junior archivist asking him to look out the appropriate model of letter from the records.
Years later, when Asoka was old, the Emperor's exasperation with his advisers made him remember the brave and wise young man. He demanded that the young man be produced to give his advice.
A week later a trembling village headman was brought before the Emperor. He said "O Light of this world, I am not the brave young man who faced the tiger; he was my brother. He died in misery two years ago. When he heard your august words of favour, he put aside all other thoughts but service in your court. He gave his small patch of land to me, and set out to live by the charity of others whilst he went about finding out what the needs of the people really are, and forming thoughts on how your august benevolence could best help them. For two monsoons he lived well, because many were aware of your words to him. After the second monsoon and still without word from the palace, I begged him to take back his land and to live the life of a villager until the call came. He refused. He could not be a common villager and at the same time a man with the Imperial promise of an official career. We offered to make him village headman. Of us all he was clearly best fitted for the post. Still he refused; he must wait on the Imperial will. After the third monsoon, men lost patience with him, and he began to starve. When a little money came to him, he spent it on drugs and on wine to enable him to bear the wait. All that was bright about him began to fade. The remnant of a man who died had lost all his wisdom and even his courage."
When the headman looked up, he saw that the good Asoka was weeping, and had torn his embroidered robe."
The devastating results of waiting for very well intentioned and entirely believable official munificence to be delivered have figured in folklore about as long as such promises have been made. The trouble about these promises is their very generosity. It always appears rational to wait another day for the prize rather than do something worthwhile but relatively picayune today.

I have heard from residents in the Wapello area that only 28 of the flood victims are going to qualify for relief. Many of these people dropped their flood insurance when public officials told them their town was safe after building a new levy.

As the flood recedes, the stench from roiled silt attracts flies and mosquitoes and a silent reminder of a flood and empty promises.