Looting during Andrew - CHILLING

greenspun.com : LUSENET : TimeBomb 2000 (Y2000) : One Thread

http://members.aol.com/keninga/looting.htm

LOOTING - NEIGHBORS CRUISING FOR YOUR GOODS

Each year disasters shred thousands of homes and mingled the tatters of lumber, drywall, shingles and roof tiles into one sickening blanket of scrap building materials.

(Photo: Looter openly steal goods during Hurricane Andrew)

As if dealing with a major disaster was not enough, I have found looting to be on the increase.It is interesting to note now and it was appalling to observe then, the majority of the victims were demanding that the "government--or someone--do something." The prevailing rationale was that the victims were not responsible for their own safety and welfare. Unfortunately, the magnitude of this disaster shut down an already cumbersome governmental support system upon which they were depending.

It was during Hurricane Hugo in the Carolinas that I first observed the extent of looting during a disaster. Of the hundreds of victims that I have dealt with, most had lost something to looters. Pillage even occurred in the rural areas. Then came Hurricane Andrew in south Florida. There the storm related damage estimates reached 20 billion dollars property damage, 250,000 homeless, 35,000 in shelters and 1.3 million lacking power--one of the costliest disasters ever in the United States. Here looting took on a life of its own. Many times whole families, including children, could be seen pushing shopping carts full of merchandise they had stolen.

In any disaster cash is "king" after all the banks were closed. Since lack of electricity meant no electronic funds transfers or interior lighting for the banks, cash was the only method of purchasing in many areas. There was a surprising number of people who had emergency goods to sell but they did not accept credit cards or personal checks. For several weeks, victims could not even get their paychecks cashed.

Unfortunately thieves and looters seek out those who have cash or goods. Most victims are to intent on making a purchase or solving their immediate crisis to be aware that others are watching them. They falsely assume, no one could be so cruel to take from those who already lost most or all of their possessions.

In large disasters, the National Guard will furnish some security, but it will be delayed by the extensive debris blocking the roads. The extent of a large damage area makes the efforts even less effective. Also the expedient focusing of National Guard activity mainly on town centers leaves rural residents unserved, disgruntled and very vulnerable to attack.During Hurricane Andrew, the Assistant City Manager of Homestead, Florida reported that he had a hundred National Guard next to the city hall, but every time he tried to direct them to a problem area, he was told they needed approval from higher up which sometimes took hours and sometimes days. Unfortunately, there was a severe shortage of on-site leadership.

Before the National Guard's presence is known, looting is always widespread. In many cases the plundering is done by "neighbors" from the next block. In one complex, during Hurricane Hugo, three scavengers gained entry into a number of the evacuated apartments. But when they began to pry one door open, one remaining occupant threatened to shoot. The looters then kicked in the door of the next apartment and ransacked it rather than face someone who was armed.

During one disaster, with no street lights, pitch blackness prevailed at night. It was frightening to see many people milling around after dark as both a result of and cause for anxiety. In one suburban area, the National Guard was unable to enforce an imposed curfew as people experienced the boredom and anxiety that rapidly sets in when normal patterns are disrupted. In some low income areas, the bars were in full swing by noon, and by dusk, bands of drunken men were moving out into urban areas looking for something to do.I recall a fright I experienced one evening when returning late to my motel during Hurricane Hugo's recovery operations. I made a wrong turn and found myself lost in the inner city after curfew. When I paused at the first intersection, several people brushed my car checking for an unlocked door. I was fortunate, for they might have broken out a window and crawled in. Needless to say, I did not slow down at other intersections.During Hurricane Andrew, looting was common place and accepted as a way of life. One victim from an upper class neighborhood told me " I was shunned by my neighbors because I rejected an offer to cruise for goods."

Or as Fred Taylor, Metro-Dade police director said,"The looting has occurred in areas made vulnerable in the storm. That's mostly homes on main roads, convenience stores and strip shopping malls. The takers included young people, old people and people with little kids."

In another situation, a looter was questioned about his looting as he carried out a television. He said, "I'm not looting - I need this television."

It was clear the looters knew the inability of law enforcement to handle masses of looters. "The police know we are here," said one female in her late teens, who declined to identify herself. She was pushing a shopping cart overflowing with clothes through the shattered plate glass window of a flooded T.J. Max store.

Police confessed they had more important worries. "Frankly, the priority is not property, " one said. "We're only handling life-threatening situations." What he said is probably true, for the victims I worked who lost most of their personal goods or business inventory due to looting saw very few arrests. Drug stores and veterinary clinics were especially vulnerable for drug theft.

But justice prevailed in one interesting instance. As the crowd cheered, a woman was handcuffed and led away from the Royal Palm Ice Company. Her crime: Trying to cut the line, nearly a quarter-mile long and 5,000 strong, waiting to buy bags of ice from the back of several trailer trucks. A dozen Miami police had been on duty at the ice house since 7 a.m. The wait was at least four hours; the cost for a 4-pound bag was $5. "They are fighting in ice lines all over town," one policeman said.

One thing I have learned is your protection will be your prior planning. During the LA riots, a major portion of those injured were going to get food or water. If they had been prepared to be self-supporting for two weeks, the danger would have past. In addition, I have yet to see a loss due to looting occur to anyone who was prepared to defend their property.During Hurricane Andrew, peaceful citizens packed guns to protect their flattened homes as looters pushed shopping carts through downtown Homestead, Florida. I talked with a lawyer who was a victim and who had been away in another city during the actual storm. His neighbors had called him and told him to buy shotgun ammunition. Being somewhat passive and not knowledgeable about guns, he went to a gun store and asked for ammunition. The store owner asked him what "load" he wanted. Then, noting the unsureness, added, "Is it to be used for rabbits?" The victim replied, "Well not actually--Larger." "For deer?" the owner asked. The victim stammered that he was from Homestead where they had looters. The store owner responded,"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place. Here is the load you need for looters." The homeowner told me that he now cherishes his right to protect himself.

During Hurricane Hugo, prepared neighborhoods barricaded their block. Home watch guards worked in shifts during the day and night. This system was very effective. Active involvement with neighbors now will aid in future group preparedness actions. One store owner I met was the only retailer in his shopping center that was not looted. His solution was a generator for light, a cooler for food and drink, a comfortable chair located in his doorway while on guard and a shotgun. He never had to even point it for all looters gave him full berth while seeking easier spoils.

The larger disasters experienced in this decade continue to breed looting. Unfortunately, because of many disaster's magnitude, the support agencies were unable to adequately handle the effects. There was confusion and false starts on the part of federal and local agencies. Many victims had cause to feel helpless and become angry toward the powers in control.

In any survival situation, knowledge and advance preparation are crucial although loss cannot be completely prevented nor predicted. Yet understanding the tendencies of a natural disaster can enable one to become prepared physically and emotionally. Surely the mistakes made and the lessons learned from past disasters will not soon be forgotten--or will disasters continue to put unprepared people into desperate straits?

-- Old Git (anon@spamproblems.com), March 04, 1999

Answers

Sorry, was in too much of a hurry to post the above as it's so apropos, should have made it clear it's a cut and paste and not my work (URL at top).

-- Old Git (anon@spamproblems.com), March 04, 1999.

Yeah Old Git, I was there, and saw the effects. It wasn't pretty. I live near Ft Lauderdale, and had NOWHERE near the problems that occured in south Miami, which is about 35 miles away. I did, however, do volunteer work in the disaster area frequently, and what I saw is something I will never forget.

I went into the Miami Herald archives and pulled a couple articles from the time. It gives you a good idea of how people react to adversity...

(I apologize in advance if the formatting of these are screwed up..)

THE MIAMI HERALD

CRISIS BRINGS OUT BEST IN US, AND THE WORST

Monday, September 28, 1992

Section: BUSINESS

Page: 5BM

SOURCE/CREDIT LINE: DAVID SATTERFIELD Herald Senior Business Writer

Memo: INSIDE BUSINESS

YOU'RE not going to believe this," the caller said, apparently forgetting that this is South Florida, where nothing is beyond belief.

"This adjuster calls and says he's working on behalf of my insurance company. And he wants to do my claim over the phone."

And Mr. Caller proceeds to unravel a tale that's entirely believable, especially in South Florida.

"He's giving me air conditioning, and I don't have central air. He gives me French doors, and I don't have French doors. He's just making up stuff."

And on and on.

Times of crisis bring out the best in people, whether it's out of goodness of the heart, or mere survival instincts. Hurricane Andrew is no exception, as we've all witnessed in the past five weeks.

But Andrew also has brought out the other side.

Devastation, despair and the ripe opportunity to cash in on both have bred a rash of rats that we're going to be living with for the next year or so. Sometimes, those rats may be ourselves.

It didn't take long after Aug. 24 for the line between right and wrong to fade.

Take the looting.

Perhaps it's understandable if a father or mother snagged some baby formula or water from a damaged grocery store. And even though the act is criminal, it's possible to comprehend some kid grabbing a stereo from a hurricane-ravaged department store.

But it boggles the mind to know that people looted the homes of their neighbors, ripping off personal belongings as the rain continued to fall. Then came the gouging. It's entirely understandable if prices rise for supplies in heavy demand. But when landlords crank up rents to the stratosphere and boot out longtime tenants, something's not right. When people jack up prices for food and water, the law of supply and demand doesn't count. Even the food stamp program closed early, a victim of rampant fraud.

Then came the fix-it men. Every guy with a hammer suddenly became a roofer, license or not. As one Midwest insurance executive said with a laugh last week: "I watch America's Most Wanted, and whenever those bad guys get caught, they're working as roofers, in Florida."

And then came the rest of us, with wide eyes and loud prayers, hoping for an adjuster with a generous soul.

Oh yeah, that roof leak is new. And that paint, it was perfect before the storm hit. That dent in the car? Must have been a roof tile. The big-screen TV must be in the Everglades somewhere.

So it goes.

And it isn't over. Federal aid is pouring in, and no doubt the HUD money will follow. Even the developers will be licking their chops.

Hurricane Andrew delivered plenty of pain and suffering to South Florida.

Money is going to cure only some of that. The federal aid is helpful, the insurance check is owed. But this isn't the lottery, and it's certainly not the time to think about filling your wallet.

Everyone, from simple homeowner to double-talking developer, needs to understand that. Fraud artists are out there, and they want your money.

So beware of the other guy. And beware of yourself.

THE MIAMI HERALD

HOPE, FEAR BATTLE FOR WEARY SOULS OF NEIGHBORHOOD

Sunday, November 15, 1992

Section: FRONT

Page: 1A

SOURCE/CREDIT LINE: PATRICK MAY Herald Staff Writer

Memo: OUT OF THE STORM; see BLOCK STARTS OVER on p. 18A

Illustration: photo: Mohamed Bouhajrahs in front of his home (UHRRICANE ANDREW DADE)

Andrew hasn't really left Southwest 113th Avenue.

At night, the storm still howls inside the heads of people who own these fractured homes. Its winds sweep in strangers, like the looters who unscrewed the McFarlanes' front door the other day. It torments NanC Ward, lying awake in her downtown rental, counting gunshots in the streets below.

And the hurricane we all thought was gone made the Bouhajrahs' 7-year-old cut his hair in class one day.

"We asked him 'Why?' " says his dad, Mohamed, of 15741. "He had two reasons: He said he wanted to 'cut the hair of the head that he hates the most.' And he said he doesn't want Andrew to get him again."

The Herald last visited residents of the 16 households along Southwest 113th Avenue in mid-September. Since then, life has unfolded into a remarkable tale of the human spirit -- from its astounding resiliency to its vulnerability. On one battered block in the Coral Woods subdivision, some residents have dusted themselves off, soaring into fits of rebuilding. Others have skidded to a dead stop, paralyzed by a menu of overwhelming options.

At one end of the block, a resident says Andrew has made her dream of a new home come true. Neighbors eight doors away have lived a post-storm nightmare as their young son was hospitalized and placed under a suicide watch.

Uniting all is an aching sense of homelessness.

"We'll be sitting around joking and suddenly someone will say, 'I want to go home,' " says Vickie Nelson at 15700. "But we can't."

CALDRON OF EMOTIONS

Hope springs amid fear, anxiety

Things have taken a few ominous turns. Ward, stressed-out and ignored by her insurance company, finally took a medical leave from BellSouth. The Singletons often quarrel, crammed inside a 30-foot Wildwood trailer while they wait for the insurance man to return.

Residents complain of stomach problems. Clifford McFarlane's blood pressure has shot as high as 180 over 110. Others fear new-found addictions to sleeping pills. Some are angered by a neighbor's decision to move out, fearful that it may take years to restitch the torn fabric of this neighborhood.

Hope flourishes here, as well. Homestead Police officer Joey DiPatrizio has seen crews of FBI agents, fellow cops and even the Royal Canadian Mounted Police breathe life back into his battered manse at 15561. The Castillos are dying to get back into their rebuilt house at 15701, this time with a new member of the family, Maria, born Oct. 9. And the Karolewiczes have nearly whipped 15640 back into prehurricane shape.

But it will be a long, hard climb for the 13 residents who hope to rebuild. These days, life on 113th Avenue moves in slow motion, like the Lemon Frost truck slipping the other day past sweaty out-of-state roofers. "Do Your Ears Hang Low?" blasted from a loudspeaker on the hood.

It rolled past homes with tin caps shimmering in the sunlight. Then it passed 15641, a splintered structure unchanged since the morning of Aug. 24. Its owner's lament over her adjuster's vanishing act is echoed up and down the street in other homes.

"I have a contractor set up, but I haven't heard from State Farm since they came out Oct. 3," says Ward, who waits in a rented 25th-floor apartment overlooking the Miami Arena. "He said he'd total the house, but that he first had to go put it in the computer and he'd be staying at the Omni, but he's gone from there and my messages aren't returned.

"I'm very upset," says Ward. "I feel like my money means nothing to State Farm. I feel like I am nobody."

SECURITY CONCERNS

Looters, vandals make return

Insurance adjusters aren't the only things vanishing from Southwest 113th.

"My back door was forced open in the past week," says Mike Mabjeesh at 15721. "They took some mugs and jars from what was left of our kitchen. The looting activity seems to have picked up. They're taking advantage of us all."

Mabjeesh says he's "expecting someone to clean me out in the next day or so."

Mugs and jars are one thing. Homeowners worry that with no street lights and scant security, any new trappings of a construction renaissance won't be safe along this half-abandoned street. Valerie McFarlane at 15620 says looters removed the front door to the shell of their house just minutes after her husband had dropped by to check on the place.

"I'm afraid they'll go in and rip out the sinks and toilets next," she says. "There's no way to protect it. We have no ceiling. We have no roof. We did have a door, but now that's gone, too. We feel very vulnerable."

For many here, life after Andrew has settled into a lava- flow of inconveniences. After 10 weeks, it doesn't seem to matter whether those hassles are large or small. The fact that DiPatrizio can't find the right knobs for a kitchen cabinet seems as aggravating as Valerie McFarlane's Infiniti J30 getting stranded in a Palm Beach body shop because the wrong replacement parts were ordered, or Ruth Bell watching her insurer go out of business.

STRESS TAKES TOLL

'I'm fed up and frustrated'

The stress manifests itself daily in many ways. Take the Singletons. Jessie's an old Marine who puts Andrew's annoyances into a context of a lifetime of hell holes far deeper than 113th Avenue. He eases into his trailer and waits patiently, day after day, for his private adjuster to resurface. Enid, wife of 25 years, hates the trailer life, hates having to use the bathroom in their mangled house, hates having to bail out water from the foyer to discourage mosquitoes.

They argue a lot:

"I'm fed up and frustrated," Enid told her husband the other day.

Jessie: "I don't expect them to just stop working on other houses and come work on mine."

Enid: "I'm not accustomed to this kind of living."

Jessie: "They'll fix it. This is an act of God. To me it's just another inconvenience."

Enid: "You just don't get it."

Jessie: "Down life's road, everything happens."

Enid: "You're still not getting the picture."

Ask Jessie how they're getting along since the hurricane, and he'll say: "I respect her opinion and I expect her to respect mine."

Ask Enid, and: "We are like east and west."

Nearly every resident complains about nerves, even those optimists who expect to be back in rebuilt homes for Christmas. Nicole Williams worries that the fiberglass falling out of her ceiling is irritating her 21-month-year-old Christopher's lungs. Ruth Bell worries that if she weren't working so much overtime at Southern Bell, "I'd be in Chattahoochee; I'd go crazy." And Teresa Castillo worries about what the block will look like once they've moved back in.

"Maybe we won't be able to take walks anymore," says the mother of a new baby girl. She says the temptation of unsecured homes will attract unsavory characters to the street "like hot bread, as we say in Spanish."

A DRAMATIC FALLOUT

Child struggles to find himself

For the Castillos, who can't wait to get back onto a reborn 113th Avenue and start a new life in a new home, those worries are manageable, uncomfortable little stepping stones on the path to a nicer life. But for the Bouhajrahs two doors south, stress has produced far more dramatic fallout. Their child has spent more than 50 days in a psychiatric hospital, where doctors are using therapy and medication to try to wrest him back from Andrew's grip.

"In the hospital he was asked to draw a picture of his house and parents," says the boy's dad, Mohamed. "He drew a house with no roof, scribbling with just a black crayon what looked like smoke coming out of the top. He said. 'That's Andrew.' He said Andrew took his parents.

"He was very angry at both of us. He said we should have stayed away from the house if we knew Andrew was coming. The first week, he just cried and cried and cried."

With time and love, the boy has come a long way. Dad's hoping his son will be released soon. He has already brought him by the old house. "The doctor thought that was a good way to bring him to reality, to show him the hurricane is a part of his life now."

The boy spent most of his visit hitting the house with a piece of rubber hose he'd found. His dad asked what he was doing. "Just playing," said the boy.

Meanwhile, when they're not at their son's side, Rosie and Mohamed can be found at hardware stores and insurance offices, just like the rest of their neighbors along 113th, each searching for glass knobs and paint chips, like some scavenger hunt to regain the lost souls of their homes.

"Rosie didn't want to rebuild at first," says her husband. "After a long talk one night, she finally said OK. But she didn't want to be involved until the house was finished.

"I think it'll be a process of rehealing, this rebuilding and renovation," Mohamed says. "So I'm getting her involved as much as I can."

The other day, Mohamed went to a nearby Builder's Square to check out kitchen cabinets. He asked his wife to come along. While they were there, Rosie did something that made Mohamed think that perhaps there really is life after Andrew after all.

Rosie helped pick out the color of the new bathroom tiles.

THE MIAMI HERALD

3 FLORIDA CITY OFFICERS SUSPECTED IN LOOTING

Saturday, November 7, 1992

Section: LOCAL

Page: 1B

SOURCE/CREDIT LINE: STEVE ROTHAUS Herald Staff Writer

The Dade state attorney's office is investigating charges that a Florida City police sergeant, two officers and a city employee looted a Homestead Radio Shack store several days after it was wrecked by Hurricane Andrew.

The investigation, which Metro--Dade Police began more than two months ago, should be completed in a few weeks, Assistant Dade State Attorney Trudy Novicki said Friday.

Metro detectives investigated the case first, determined the store had been looted and sent their findings to the state attorney's office.

"We're at a delicate stage in the investigation," Novicki said. "The investigation is definitely still open."

Neither Novicki nor the Metro detectives would release the suspects' names.

According to a Metro-Dade police report, Metro-Dade Officer Jose Caballero and two Palm Beach County deputies saw four men hauling away goods from a Radio Shack store at 30340 Old Dixie Hwy. at about 12:35 a.m. on Aug. 29, five days after Hurricane Andrew hit.

The two deputies turned to Caballero and said, "They're back again."

Caballero asked what they meant.

Palm Beach Deputy Saul Sashington responded: "It's the second time they returned. They are police officers. Per the owner -- the police could remove whatever they wanted from the store before it was looted by people."

Caballero asked if the merchandise being removed from the water-soaked store was damaged. "No," said Palm Beach Deputy Everett Simmons. "A lot of things in there are good and dry."

Caballero said that didn't make any sense. He climbed through a hole in the store's wall and questioned the men inside.

One man was wearing a T-shirt marked "Police" and said he worked for Florida City, according to investigators.

"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't OK to do so," another one told Caballero.

Caballero called his bosses, who instructed him to write a police report. No one was arrested.

Michael Braverman, a Police Benevolent Association lawyer who represents Florida City officers, said the looting allegations were unfounded.

"Everyone I've talked to in the investigation says there is a logical explanation for everything," Braverman said. "I feel very comfortable that when everything is said and done, it will be a misunderstanding."

Braverman said the officers had permission to be in the store.

But Radio Shack's South Dade district manager, Greg Miller, said Friday that they didn't.

"I gave nobody permission to be in any store," Miller said. "Three stores were broken into and four looted after the storm. I'm sure that every looter caught in the store said he had permission. That's the first line anybody's going to give you."

-- Online2Much (ready_for_y2k@mindspring.com), March 04, 1999.


After reading these articles, it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "prepare like for a storm, or hurricane", huh?

-- Online2Much (ready_for_y2k@mindspring.com), March 04, 1999.

Old Git, that's a great post. Just thought I'd note that greed comes in all forms. I was living in Sarasota at the time, but know a colleague, living on Key Biscayne, income over half a million, who went out during the storm and scuttled his own cabin cruiser. Reason: to collect the insurance and get a new one. Did it work? Yep.

-- Spidey (in@jam.com), March 04, 1999.

I was part of a disaster-relief crew that remained in Kendall, Cutler Ridge, and Homestead 3-6 months after Andrew. Although I came in late (about 10 weeks after the 'cane hit) the situation was still bad. Parts of Cutler Ridge forexample were still without electrical power.

Looting still happened. It's hard to describe, but in most normal folks you could see the stress in their eyes, that faint glimmer of instability that was waiting for the right button to be pushed by circumstance. If you looked at someone the wrong way they would take a swing or shot at you if they were capable of it. And this was the general population here, not any weird fringe types. Regular law- abiding citizens that had been through horrors most in the US can't even hope to relate to.

Based on innumerable conversations with the residents in that stretch of Florida, I can tell you that the places that said "you loot we shoot" and similar words (often in both English and Spanish) were all but ontouched by looters. Whether the occupants even HAD a gun didn't matter, so long as the idea that looting would be met with very pissed-off residents that could very well be heavily armed was enough.

Extrapolate this to Y2K and what would happen post-SHTF. Even if you don't have a gun, making the locals think you do might very well keep them out of your face. Unfortunately this might make you more apparent to alphabet agencies on the prowl for guns, though, so think in terms of your area and its populace. (Where I live, most of the adult population has fireams, usually shotguns, rifles, and similar hunting guns. And since most hunters like to have a smaller backup gun... ;-D)

OddOne, who's young but with a LOT of experience...

-- OddOne (mocklamer@geocities.com), March 04, 1999.



Old Git and Online2much, thanks for great posts. It puts in perspective how human nature really is. Be prepared for both our best sides and our worse.

Yes Online, certainly gives a new twist to "prepare for a hurricane".

-- Chris (catsy@pond.com), March 04, 1999.


I'm also a Floridian, rode out Andrew in Tampa. We had friends, members of our church, whose son went to Homestead to help in the relief efforts. He was murdered while volunteering. Also, when we returned to S. Fl. to drop off my grandmother, who we brought to Tampa to ride out the storm, we saw numerous reports of murders and violence occuring in the tent cities that popped up, put there by FEMA and the Red Cross. I'm sure some of the people living in S. Fl. can confirm that. The reason I'm bringing this up is to remind people that it's not just our property that we need to be concerned about protecting, and as was said in an earlier post above, being prepared can be a matter of life and death in many ways.

Jeannie

-- jhollander (hollander@ij.net), March 04, 1999.


This is the first time I've deliberately kicked one of my threads to the top. I apologize and hope you think it's worth the slight bit of bent ethics.

-- Old Git (anon@spamproblems.com), March 04, 1999.

Yes Old Git. The behavior of some is chilling. Keep reminding us. Will spur us on toward more self-reliance. Thanks.

-- Watchful (seethesea@msn.com), March 04, 1999.

Thanks Old Git (and everyone else). It's hard to "imagine" disaster. This helps a great deal.

-- Scarlett (ohara@tara.net), March 05, 1999.


It is the innate nature of our current style of living that we are 'owed' something. And if it's not given freely, we will take it provided the consequences are not too high. I think it is the nature of the human animal to be perverse when faced with unpleasant situations. The other factor contributing to the tendncy to riot and loot is the input from society as a whole. Many years of 'gimme' programs have instilled a sense of contempt for society's values in the 40% or so of the inner or ringcity populaion that has been on the dole since he/she was born. I hire from a lot of different ethnic groups in my business. Every time I have to discipline an inner city adult (white, black, green) I get the response that 'I'm picking on them" because they are 'white, black, green' (Damn, I'm tired of that). Anyway, to cut this rambling short, It is just this attitude that predisposes the inner city folks to loot and riot--(We owe it to them). The burbs that loot? --probably because they are exposed to it on a daily basis as our entrenched government loots and rapes our pockets for their own net. (How can a 'broke' President (1994) be worth over 2 mil in 1998?) How can a state rep be worth over 14 mil in 4 years on a 14,000 salary? Is it any wonder that the people have no regard for other's properties? It is amazing that the animals don't rule all the time.

I had the unpleasant experience of being in Chile in 1962 when Peron was overthrown and the city rioted. Not enough troops to police..even if they did use live ammo, it didn't slow the people down. They weren't after goods..they wanted freedom. I went to S. Fla as a nurse/paramedic after the hurricane. I worked 16 hour days in the tent city and stayed armed the entire time. I didn't hav any trouble but a lot of others had trouble big time. One question though...why would they steal TVs when there is no power? Crazy..but you can bet they will.

-- Lobo (Hiding@woods.com), March 05, 1999.


Moderation questions? read the FAQ