On August 29, 2005 I had again this feeling of impotence. Like the first time I saw my mom crying, and realize that even the woman I thought to be the strongest in the world, can break down every once  while. This time it was Katrina, the hurricane. 
After the tsunami, the floods in Europe, the huge fires in Portugal and the live 8 that desperately tried to save some of the starved African continent, I thought this year had utilized destruction to the fullest. That god had enough. But this time – our mother was hurt. The strong USA stood helpless again and this time facing not human evil forces, but the rage of nature. 
Usually, at times like that, I immediately pick up the phone to call Gal Lusky. A few words about Gal – so you, the readers, can understand her activities and me, the writer, won’t mess with her. (because she really doesn’t like to be told about)
Gal, from a kibutz located in the northern part of Israel, knows sharing. She doesn’t really understand the value of money and she can’t bare the thought of a hungry child. It gets her out of her serenity and her home. For 15 years she is traveling around the world, trying to fix what’s wrong. This year she created an humanitarian organization out of her personal activities. So you see why I called Gal? She is the only woman I know tat can tell me what to do and drive me away from the impotent sitting in front of the TV and the horror photos. She said we are going there but we need to raise money. Although now there is an organization, IFA (Israeli Flying Aid) is the name; it is still complicated to raise money for a mission like this and it takes time. So only on September 9th the mission left. 4 days after the group went away I took a flight to the disaster are in Louisiana. Before the flight, in a briefing we had, they told us about a hostile population, attacked volunteers and alligators from the flooded Mississippi that are wondering around. I remember they said that the nose is their week spot and that you need to try and hurt them over there, if you come across one.
I wasn’t calm, but was very determined.
 
It took me 44 hours but I got to Baton Rouge. A city located an hour and half ride from New Orleans.
 
To Be Continued…