DELUGED: Waves crash onto Bayshore Boulevard during Hurricane Jeanne. Credit: LORI BALLARD

Editor's Note: Hurricane fatigue?
Now that four — or five? or seven? or 19? — storms have barreled into our vicinity, we're way beyond fatigue. Try hurricane exhaustion: If we have to watch Steve Jerve chart one more whirling wind as it heads inexorably our way, Floridians' damaged psyches will give a whole new meaning to "tropical disturbance."

That said, there's more to worry about. The problem is not our ability to clean up after hurricanes; by all reports, FEMA has been doing a remarkable job of dealing with Florida's unprecedented string of disasters. Thanks to election-year politics and our governor's family ties, money is being fairly shoveled into afflicted regions.

But what Jon Elliston explores in this story, which was written around the time Hurricane Frances was beginning its slow assault on the state, is whether FEMA is doing enough to mitigate damage before storms occur, especially since being subsumed into the Department of Homeland Security. What he's found is not likely to make anyone in Florida feel more secure.

Fridays don't get much busier than this. It's the morning of Sept. 3, and the Federal Emergency Management Agency headquarters in Washington, D.C., is running at a full clip, having mobilized a cadre of disaster-response specialists in its National Emergency Operations Center the day before. "This is our 'war room,'" one FEMA employee explains. "Right now, we're in 24-hours-a-day activation. It's a double-whammy."

Indeed, while the agency is still helping Florida recover from Hurricane Charley's punishing winds and rain, satellite images are showing an even greater storm, Hurricane Frances, about to make landfall. Frances appears so threatening that most of FEMA's personnel on the ground, along with 2.5 million Floridians, have evacuated from the storm's projected path.

At the moment, tropical depression No. 9, soon to be named Hurricane Ivan, is festering 550 miles southwest of the Cape Verde Islands — still but a glint in the eyes of storm watchers and disaster planners. And Jeanne's not even a storm yet — she's just the next name coming up on FEMA's 2004 North American Hurricane Name List.

Inside the op center, scores of personnel from FEMA and a host of other agencies, including the Environmental Protection Agency, the Coast Guard, the Army Corps of Engineers and the Department of Health and Human Services, buzz around in a state of controlled chaos. They work the phones, hover over computer screens and trade the latest weather forecasts. They've split their tasks into 12 "emergency support functions," designed to bring in food, water, medical care, electricity, housing, transportation and other desperately needed resources as soon as Frances passes.

John Crowe, a Department of Homeland Security mapping expert assigned to FEMA to help track outbreaks of rough weather, steps outside the building for a quick cigarette. "Everybody's really running into gear here," he says between drags. "FEMA's ready, about as ready as they've ever been."

FEMA's relatively quick response to the hurricanes has thus far won mostly high marks from Florida officials, who remember well a time when the disaster agency seemed the last party to show up after catastrophes. In addition, President Bush has paid multiple visits to assure storm victims they will get whatever help is needed, and he promptly secured more than $2 billion from Congress to fund Florida's recovery.

No one would call Florida lucky. But with national elections just around the corner, the hurricanes could scarcely have hit at a better time or place for obtaining federal disaster assistance. "They're doing a good job," one former FEMA executive says of the Bush administration's response efforts. "And the reason why they're doing that job is because it's so close to the election, and they can't fuck it up, otherwise they lose Florida — and if they lose Florida, they might lose the election."

Such political considerations may indeed make this round of recoveries go better than most. But long before this hurricane season, some emergency managers inside and outside the federal government started sounding an alarm that continues to ring. Bush administration policy changes and budget cuts, they say, are zapping FEMA's long-term ability to cushion the blow of hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, wildfires and other natural disasters.

Over the past two decades, one of FEMA's key tools to save lives and cut recovery costs has been "mitigation" — measures taken in advance to minimize the damage caused by natural disasters. "Mitigation is the cornerstone of emergency management," a FEMA website explains.

Under mitigation plans, houses in floodplains are moved or raised above the flood line, buildings are designed to withstand hurricane winds and earthquakes, and communities are relocated away from likely wildfire zones. According to FEMA estimates, every dollar spent on mitigation saves roughly two dollars in disaster recovery costs.

But since 2001, crucial federal mitigation programs have had their budgets slashed. FEMA's Project Impact, a model mitigation program created by the Clinton administration, has been canceled outright. Federal funding of post-disaster mitigation efforts designed to protect people and property from the next disaster has been cut in half, and now communities across the country must compete for fewer pre-disaster mitigation dollars. That means states must wrangle with each other for funding they once got automatically.

As a result, some state and local emergency managers say, it's become more difficult to get the equipment and funds they need to most effectively deal with disasters. In North Carolina, a state regularly damaged by hurricanes and floods, FEMA recently refused the state's request to buy backup generators for emergency support facilities. And the budget cuts have halved the funding for a mitigation program that saved an estimated $8.8 million in recovery costs in three eastern N.C. communities alone after 1999's Hurricane Floyd. In Louisiana, which took a hard hit from Hurricane Ivan, requests for flood mitigation funds were rejected by FEMA this summer.

Consequently, the residents of these and other disaster-prone states will find the government less able to help them when help is needed most, and both states and the federal government will be forced to shoulder more recovery costs after disasters strike.

What's more, the White House has pushed for privatization of essential government services, including disaster management, and has folded FEMA into the Department of Homeland Security, where natural-disaster programs are often sidelined by counterterrorism programs. Along the way, morale at FEMA has plummeted, and many of the agency's most experienced personnel have left for work in other government agencies or private corporations.

In June, Pleasant Mann, a 16-year FEMA veteran who heads the agency's government employee union, wrote members of Congress to warn of the agency's decay. "Over the past three-and-one-half years, FEMA has gone from being a model agency to being one where funds are being misspent, employee morale has fallen, and our nation's emergency management capability is being eroded," he wrote. "Our professional staff is being systematically replaced by politically connected novices and contractors."

So while they're far from where hurricanes hit hardest, FEMA's Washington-based disaster managers have found themselves in the middle of a perfect storm of their own.

'ALL HAZARDS"

FEMA has dealt with disasters since long before the term "homeland security" came into vogue after the 9/11 attacks.

Created by President Jimmy Carter in 1979 to handle the country's worst-case scenarios, FEMA has always struggled to define its precise mission. In theory, it's responsible for "all hazards," which means the agency coordinates efforts to keep the United States safe from the full spectrum of domestic dangers, be they "acts of God," like weather emergencies, or acts of human enemies, like al Qaeda terrorists.

In the 1980s, the Reagan administration endowed FEMA with extraordinary powers to keep the country running — powers bordering on martial law, critics argued. The agency became responsible for "continuity of government" plans devoted to salvaging national authority in the event of a nuclear attack. Other plans, drafted by the likes of National Security Council aide Oliver North, laid the groundwork for rounding up rabble-rousers in the event of societal breakdown, whatever the cause. (The troubling implications of the agency's early work had a long legacy in popular culture, thanks to the X-Files TV show and movie, which often referenced the specter of how FEMA-rule would supplant constitutional government.)

As the Cold War ended, FEMA turned greater attention to handling natural disasters, but the agency proved unequal to the task. In August 1992, Hurricane Andrew assaulted Florida and other Southern states with 170-mile-an-hour winds, killing 23 people and leaving a trail of devastation. The severity of the storm caught FEMA off-guard, and the agency did too little, too late to help the state recover, enraging thousands of storm victims. Several days after Andrew dissipated, Dade County's emergency manager famously pleaded, "Where the hell is the cavalry?"

Two months later, President George H.W. Bush paid a price of sorts at the polls when Bill Clinton shrunk the incumbent's once-sizable lead and came within two percentage points of beating Bush in Florida. It was an important lesson learned for both the politicians and the emergency agency.

In 1993, President Clinton's new FEMA director, James Lee Witt, embarked on an ambitious campaign to bulk up the agency's natural disaster programs while staying prepared for "all hazards." Witt's changes eventually reversed FEMA's reputation for being unfocused and ineffective. The agency garnered praise from both Democrats and Republicans for improving coordination with state and local emergency offices and turning attention and resources to the benefits of disaster mitigation.

Four years into his tenure, Witt established Project Impact, which would become the agency's most high-profile mitigation program. Under the project, FEMA fostered partnerships between federal, state and local emergency workers, along with local businesses, to prepare individual communities for natural disasters. By the time the Bush administration entered office in January 2001, some 250 communities in 50 states had signed up for Project Impact.

FEMA seemed sturdy, having finally found its role and proven itself capable of fulfilling it. But in the field of emergency management, some things change as quickly as the weather.

BUSH'S FEMA

From its first months in office, the Bush administration made it clear that emergency programs, like much of the federal government, were in for a major reorientation.

At FEMA, President Bush appointed a close aide, Joe Allbaugh, to be the agency's new director. Allbaugh had served as Bush's chief of staff in Texas when the president was governor there, as well as manager of his 2000 presidential campaign. Along with Karl Rove and Karen Hughes, Allbaugh was known as one part of Bush's "iron triangle" of professional handlers.

Some FEMA veterans complained that Allbaugh had little experience in managing disasters. The new administration's early initiatives gave strength to the critics' concerns. The White House quickly launched a government-wide effort to privatize public services, including key elements of disaster management, and in a May 15, 2001, appearance before a Senate appropriations subcommittee, Allbaugh signaled that a new, stripped-down approach would be employed at FEMA.

"Many are concerned that federal disaster assistance may have evolved into both an oversized entitlement program and a disincentive to effective state and local risk management," Allbaugh said. "Expectations of when the federal government should be involved and the degree of involvement may have ballooned beyond what is an appropriate level."

As a result, says a disaster program administrator who insists on anonymity, "We have to compete for our jobs — we have to prove that we can do it cheaper than a contractor." And when it comes to handling disasters, the FEMA employee stresses, cheaper is not necessarily better, and the new outsourcing requirements sometimes slow the agency's operations.

William Waugh, a disaster expert at Georgia State University who has written training programs for FEMA, warns that the rise of a "consultant culture" has not served emergency programs well. "It's part of a widespread problem of government contracting out capabilities," he says. "Pretty soon governments can't do things because they've given up those capabilities to the private sector. And private corporations don't necessarily maintain those capabilities."

The push for privatization wasn't the only change that raised red flags at FEMA. According to a 2004 article in the Journal of Homeland Security and Emergency Management, "Allbaugh brought about several internal, though questionably effective, reorganizations of FEMA. The Bush-Allbaugh FEMA diminished the Clinton administration's organizational emphasis on disaster mitigation."

In February 2001, for example, the Bush administration proposed eliminating Project Impact, a move approved by Congress later in the year. (On the very day the White House proposal was submitted, a magnitude 6.8 earthquake rocked Washington state, which was home to several communities where Project Impact had sponsored quake mitigation efforts.) Ending the project and trimming other FEMA programs, the White House argued, would save roughly $200 million. In its place, FEMA instituted a new program of mitigation grants that are awarded on a competitive basis.

By ignoring the logic of fully funded mitigation and other preparedness programs, Bush's first FEMA director earned some scorn among emergency specialists. "Allbaugh? He was inept," says Claire Rubin, a senior researcher at George Washington University's Institute for Crisis, Disaster and Risk Management. "He was chief of staff for Bush in Texas — that was his credential."

Allbaugh's troubled leadership of the agency would be relatively short. In December 2002, he announced he would leave his post. He set about creating a string of lobbying firms, including New Bridge Strategies, which helps U.S. companies win reconstruction contracts in Iraq. This summer, he started another consulting company with Andrew Lundquist, former director of Vice President Dick Cheney's secretive energy policy task force.

THE MERGER

The early problems at Allbaugh's FEMA, nettlesome as they were, paled in comparison to the challenges the agency faced after 9/11.

In the wake of the terrorist attacks, leading members of Congress pushed for a radical restructuring of the government's anti-terrorism apparatus. Sen. Joe Lieberman, D-Conn., proposed legislation to merge several federal agencies into a new, security-focused umbrella department. At first, the White House opposed the plan, calling it impractical and unnecessary.

But then, as former counterterrorism czar Richard Clarke explained in his recent book, Against All Enemies, the White House realized that the Lieberman bill would likely pass both houses of Congress. In June 2002, the administration changed its tune, calling for a new agency, the Department of Homeland Security, that would be even larger than the one Lieberman had proposed.

Under the administration's plan, 22 government agencies, FEMA among them, would merge into the Department of Homeland Security. Analysts in and out of government warned against subsuming the emergency agency's vital functions in a new super-department.

"There are concerns of FEMA losing its identity as an agency that is quick to respond to all hazards and disasters," the agency's inspector general noted in a memo to Allbaugh. Congress' Government Accountability Office judged the merger to be a "high-risk" endeavor for FEMA. And the Brookings Institution, a leading Washington think-tank, cautioned in a report that such a move could hobble the agency's natural disaster programs. "While a merged FEMA might become highly adept at preparing for and responding to terrorism," the Brookings Institute found, "it would likely become less effective in performing its current mission in case of natural disasters as time, effort and attention are inevitably diverted to other tasks within the large organization."

But Bush's proposal won out, and a shift in priorities from natural disasters to counterterrorism immediately took hold. In its 2002 budget, the White House doubled FEMA's budget to $6.6 billion, but more than half the budget — $3.5 billion — was earmarked for equipment and training to help states and localities respond to terrorist attacks.

Michael Brown, a college friend of Allbaugh's who had served as FEMA's general counsel, was recruited to head the agency. When the reorganization took effect on March 1, 2003, Brown assured skeptics that under the new arrangement, the country would be served by "FEMA on steroids" — a faster, more effective disaster agency.

But the merger with Homeland Security compounded the agency's problems, says FEMA employee and union president Mann. "Before, we reported straight to the White House, and now we've got this elaborate bureaucracy on top of us. And a lot of this bureaucracy doesn't think what we're doing is that important, because terrorism isn't our number one," he said. "The biggest frustration here is that we at FEMA have responded to disasters like Oklahoma City and 9/11, and here are people who haven't responded to a kitchen fire telling us how to deal with terrorism. You know, there were a lot of people who fell down on the job on 9/11, but it wasn't us."

Rubin, the George Washington University researcher, agrees with Mann's assessment. She says the Department of Homeland Security "has done a number of things to FEMA that are making it very, very hard for FEMA to function as it used to. A large number of people who are experienced with natural hazards no longer are doing that primarily or at all."

Brown has insisted that FEMA would stay prepared for "all hazards," even the non-terrorist ones. "Yes, it's a new world. It's a dangerous world," he said. "And the Department of Homeland Security will have a focus on terrorism, but it's not the only focus."

But the tension between Brown's competing duties of fighting terrorism and responding to natural disasters has proven unavoidable. In May 2003, for example, Homeland Security staged the largest exercise in the history of the United States to test the government's ability to deal with a terrorist attack using weapons of mass destruction. The same week, hundreds of real-life tornadoes ripped through the Midwest, causing some FEMA staffers to be torn between practicing for terrorism and handling an actual natural disaster. According to Mann, while resources for the WMD exercise were readily available, FEMA's headquarters staff was forced that same summer to cancel disaster-training drills due to budget shortfalls.

WHITHER MITIGATION?

If the administration's insistence that FEMA shift its focus toward terrorism didn't do enough to hamper the agency's ability to minimize natural disaster damage, then lawmakers certainly made up for it when they slashed the cornerstone of FEMA's damage prevention efforts in 2003. That year, Congress approved a White House proposal to cut FEMA's Hazard Mitigation Grant Program in half.

The Bush administration was "being penny-wise and pound foolish" by cutting the mitigation funds, says Larry Larson, executive director of the Association of State Floodplain Managers. Larson's group has pressed Congress to restore funding, and he expects that some legislators will soon take up the cause on their own.

"Florida's going to be looking for mitigation money so that they can rebuild in a safer fashion," he says. "I'm sure that the Florida delegation is going to be thinking now about how the state can't do what's needed with the recent cuts in post-disaster mitigation — how they can't do today what they could have done before."

Pressed on the issue, Bush administration officials have said the mitigation burden should rest more strongly on the backs of individual states. But now more than ever, cash-strapped states cannot afford to pick up the balance. "The federal focus on terrorism preparedness has left states with an increased responsibility to provide support for natural disasters," according to a report by Larson's group, released this summer. "State budget shortfalls have given emergency management programs less to work with, at a time when more is expected of them."

The Bush administration also argues that its new pre-disaster mitigation grants, which are awarded on a competitive basis, will help states pick up the slack.

But in a recent congressional testimony, a National Emergency Management Association representative said that "in a purely competitive grant program, lower income communities, those most often at risk to natural disaster, will not effectively compete with more prosperous cities."

Indeed, some areas have been inexplicably left out of the program.

"In a sense, Louisiana is the floodplain of the nation," a 2002 FEMA report noted. As a result, flooding is a constant threat there, and the state has found that an estimated 18,000 buildings have been repeatedly damaged by floodwaters — the highest number of any state. And yet, this summer FEMA denied Louisiana communities' pre-disaster mitigation funding requests.

In Jefferson Parish, part of the New Orleans metropolitan area, flood zone manager Tom Rodrigue is aghast at the denial. "You would think we would get maximum consideration," he says. "This is what the grant program called for. We were more than qualified for it." The funds, he notes, could have been used to elevate homes and businesses hit by Hurricane Ivan.

BRAIN DRAIN

Within FEMA, the shift away from mitigation programs is so pronounced that many longtime specialists in the field have quit. "The priority is no longer on prevention," says the FEMA administrator. "Mitigation, honestly, is the orphaned stepchild. People are leaving it in droves."

In fact, disaster professionals are leaving many parts of FEMA in droves, compromising the agency's ability to do its job. "Since last year, so many people have left who had developed most of our basic programs," Mann says. "A lot of the institutional knowledge is gone. Everyone who was able to retire has left, and then a lot of people have moved to other agencies."

There are two reasons for the exodus. On the one hand, FEMA, like the rest of the federal government's civil service, is hitting a demographic brick wall. Its staff of veteran managers, most of them baby boomers, is reaching retirement age.

But another factor is at work: disillusionment at the agency's new direction under the Bush administration. In February 2004, the American Federation of Government Employees surveyed 84 FEMA personnel about the state of things at the agency. The results showed a dramatic downturn in morale: 80 percent said FEMA has become "a poorer agency" under DHS, and 60 percent said that, given the chance to move to another agency and make the same salary, they'd do so.

For some, quitting the agency has become an especially attractive option, since FEMA is outsourcing more and many former employees have found work with contractors. It's an understandable choice, Mann says. "They're saying, OK, I can't develop my career here any more, so I might as well cash out."

Not everyone who has left did so because of disenchantment, asserts Laurence Zensinger, a longtime FEMA official who resigned this year and joined Dewberry, a Fairfax, Va.-based engineering firm that does disaster work for the government. Under the DHS reorganization, he says, some of FEMA's capabilities have in fact been strengthened, because the new arrangement aids coordination among federal agencies that FEMA regularly works with. Furthermore, he says, the rise in public and governmental attention to emergency programs since 9/11 has, in a larger sense, benefited the agency. "I think there's a lot that's happening that's sort of lifting all boats," he says.

Nevertheless, FEMA must now get by with a smaller number of in-house specialists. The irony, disaster researcher Claire Rubin says, is that FEMA will now have to hire former employees like Zensinger as contractors. "Now, frankly, the senior brains and the people with 20, 30 years of operational experience, there's more of them in the private sector than there are at FEMA. It's a significant shift. If the government's going to get smaller and the catastrophes keep getting bigger, the net effect will be to outsource what you need. It might be cheaper, it might be more expensive, but it's not a great way to run this part of government." Following the current spate of hurricanes, she predicts, "you will see FEMA contracts flying left and right so they can get these people back who know how to do this stuff."

'AN EXPOSED NERVE"

In case Congress hasn't gotten the message, former FEMA director James Lee Witt recently restated it in strong terms. "I am extremely concerned that the ability of our nation to prepare for and respond to disasters has been sharply eroded," he testified at a March 24, 2004, hearing on Capitol Hill. "I hear from emergency managers, local and state leaders, and first responders nearly every day that the FEMA they knew and worked well with has now disappeared. In fact one state emergency manager told me, 'It is like a stake has been driven into the heart of emergency management.'"

Lately, though, Witt has had nothing to say publicly about the agency's performance. His disaster management company, James Lee Witt Associates, recently won a $250,000 contract with Orlando to help the city get its share of post-hurricane FEMA money. A company spokesman says that Witt will be making no comment while Florida's recovery efforts continue, out of respect for his former colleagues.

Waugh, the Georgia State University expert, says that the recent hurricanes could serve as a wake-up call to highlight FEMA's drift in priorities. "If you talk to FEMA people and emergency management people around the country, people have almost been hoping for a major natural disaster like a hurricane, just to remind DHS and the administration that there are other big things — even bigger things than al Qaeda.

"This is an exposed nerve in the emergency management community, in the sense that resources have been shifted away from hurricanes, tornados and other kinds of disasters — the kind of disasters that are more likely to occur than terrorism."

This story, different versions of which have been published this week in alt-weeklies across the country, was spearheaded by the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies. Creative Loafing news writer Michael Wall contributed to this report.

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