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62Off Topic-Hurricane Andrew

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  • dexxxaa
    Aug 15, 2004
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      Jeb Bush says Charley has already caused 15 billion dollars in damage.

      http://www.nexusmagazine.com/articles/hurricane.html

      Deadly Silences
      The Hurricane Andrew Cover-up
      The authorities grossly understated the death toll from hurricane
      Andrew,
      the worst natural disaster in US history, and left thousands of
      survivors to
      die in a zone contaminated by radiation.

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      Extracted from Nexus Magazine, Volume 8, Number 3
      PO Box 30, Mapleton Qld 4560 Australia. editor@...
      Telephone: +61 (0)7 5442 9280; Fax: +61 (0)7 5442 9381
      From our web page at: www.nexusmagazine.com

      © by k.t. Frankovich © 2000/01
      PO Box 703, Umatilla, Florida 32784 USA
      E-mail: Kfrnkovich@...
      Website: http://kt.cjb.net


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      THE EMERGENCY ALERT THAT CAME TOO LATE
      The largest natural disaster ever recorded in the history of the
      United
      States was hurricane Andrew, which struck South Dade County, Florida,
      as
      midnight turned the clock into August 24, 1992. Contrary to what the
      American news media broadcast across the United States and throughout
      Europe, the first outer wall of the hurricane unexpectedly slammed
      into
      South Dade, packing 214+ mph winds which quickly escalated to 350+
      mph. Most
      of the 414,151 residents living in the danger zone were asleep when
      the
      outer wall struck. Thousands of them lost their lives, for no one in
      South
      Dade had been evacuated or even advised to evacuate. Instead,
      residents had
      been repeatedly informed by local news media that South Dade should
      expect
      to experience "50 mph winds".

      By 11.00 am the following morning, 8,230 mobile homes along with 9,140
      apartments had vanished off the face of the Earth. The Hiroshima-like
      horror
      was beyond catastrophic. Entire families perished in ways too
      horrifying to
      describe. The stench of death had already begun to saturate miles and
      miles
      of the massive devastation; the hot humid air was reeking with foul,
      rotting
      flesh.

      How do I know? Because I was in the midst of it all.
      Never will I forget the frantic, last-minute "emergency alert"
      broadcast
      that was aired on television just before all hell broke loose. My son
      and I
      had the TV on, hoping to catch an updated report on the hurricane,
      when the
      screen suddenly went blank with a loud warning signal. Before we knew
      it, a
      panic-stricken voice began the announcement:

      We interrupt this program to bring you an emergency alert from the
      National
      Broadcast Emergency Center. This is an emergency alert! I repeat,
      this is an
      emergency alert! The outer winds of hurricane Andrew have just
      reached the
      Florida coast. Hurricane Andrew has unexpectedly shifted five degrees
      south.
      I repeat, Hurricane Andrew has shifted five degrees south. Andrew is
      expected to strike South Dade within minutes. I repeat, Andrew is
      expected
      to strike South Dade within minutes. All South Dade residents should
      take
      immediate cover! I repeat, all South Dade residents should take
      immediate
      cover! This is an emergency alert!

      Our tiny pre-fab apartment, which was nothing more than a glorified
      mobile
      home, had been constructed to withstand maximum wind speeds of 90
      mph. The
      blood-curdling announcement gripped us both. Paralysed by sheer
      terror, our
      bulging eyes stayed glued to the television as the voice continued.

      All South Dade residents are advised to stay put! Do not attempt to
      leave
      the area!

      Within seconds, we actually heard hurricane Andrew bearing down on us,
      slamming into us with all the force of a speeding locomotive. The
      horrendous
      wall of winds crashed against our tiny apartment like an exploding
      bomb!
      Glasses flew off the kitchen counter, shattering onto the quaking
      floor.
      Hanging pictures plunged straight down the walls towards the ground.
      The
      huge hanging mirror crashed on top of the television set, spraying the
      living room with shattered glass. The entire apartment resembled a
      rickety
      old train, shaking fiercely out of control while rumbling down a
      railroad
      track. The screeching winds quickly transformed into the piercing,
      monotone
      hum of a jet engine, sounding as if it had sucked us inside! It was so
      deafening, all other noises ceased to exist. It felt like a monstrous
      earthquake-and-tornado hitting at the same time!

      Before either one of us could react, the metal front door of our
      apartment
      began to peel steadily downward towards the floor, like a piece of
      wet, limp
      paper. Then the voracious jaws of Andrew attacked for the final kill.
      A
      mega-giant, two-storey-tall, solid concrete transformer pole with
      electrical
      cables attached, torpedoed right through our living room wall and
      roof,
      exploding the entire building on impact! And that was just the
      beginning.



      ATROCITIES IN THE AFTERMATH
      There isn't a person on the face of this Earth who will ever convince
      me
      that hurricane Andrew was a "hurricane" by any sense of the
      definition. Just
      ask any survivor of Andrew what the six-and-a-half-hour siege was
      like and
      the answer will always be the same. "We didn't have any prior
      warning. We
      heard hurricane Andrew suddenly bearing down on us like a speeding
      locomotive." This is the same description given by survivors of
      monstrous
      F-5 tornadoes (packing winds of 350+ mph)--the only difference being
      that
      tornadoes strike for just seconds, whereas hurricane Andrew struck and
      stayed for hours on end.

      The injuries of those who survived were mind-boggling. I had a broken
      jaw
      with eight teeth knocked out. Huge shards of glass impaled my body so
      deeply, they were impossible to remove without the aid of a scalpel.
      My head
      injuries were so severe that they permanently affected my eyesight.

      But I was only one amongst thousands of severely injured victims who
      struggled to survive the aftermath. For ten long days we were roped
      off from
      the outside world by United States military forces, leaving us
      stranded with
      no food, no water, no medical supplies, no shelter. Suffering from
      severe
      shell-shock, we waited and waited for rescue teams to arrive, but
      that just
      never happened. None of the injured in the roped-off areas was ever
      rescued
      from the devastation. It was the worst gut-wrenching betrayal I have
      ever
      experienced. I saw grown men lying on the ground in the foetal
      position,
      moaning and groaning pathetically as they tried to hug and rock
      themselves.
      My son was amongst them.

      Don't get me wrong. United States military forces were indeed present
      in the
      roped-off areas within hours of Andrew ending. But they were not
      there to
      help survivors. The National Guard along with the Coast Guard, the
      Army,
      FEMA (the Federal Emergency Management Agency), Metro Dade Police,
      state
      police and local police removed dead bodies and body parts as quickly
      as
      possible during those first ten days of the aftermath. Horrified
      survivors
      watched as both uniformed and civilian- clothed men searched the
      rubble and
      filled body bags, which they then stacked in military vehicles or huge
      refrigerator trucks normally used to transport food, only to drive
      off and
      leave the stranded injured to fend for themselves.

      Not until I managed to escape the aftermath did I discover that the
      "thermo-king" sections of these same refrigerator trucks, jam-packed
      with
      wall-to-wall body bags, ended up being stored at Card Sound Navy Base,
      located in an isolated area just above the Florida Keys. The inside
      temperature was kept cool by portable generators until the bodies were
      either incinerated or just plain dumped into huge open grave pits.

      Those working on the body pick-up operation were forced to take what
      is
      known as the Oath of Sworn Secrecy, which is strictly enforced by the
      government. Many of them plunged into shock, once exposed to the
      ghastly
      devastation and countless mutilated bodies.

      The horrors were way beyond human comprehension. I can vouch for
      this, as I
      accidentally stepped on the severed hand of a young child when I
      initially
      crawled out of the debris, only to witness shortly thereafter two dead
      teenagers and the decapitated body of a baby girl.

      Fighting mental shock became such a big problem for the body pick-up
      teams
      that a special group of psychiatrists had to be brought in to help
      them cope
      with it. I believe this in itself is the reason why many who worked
      on the
      body collection didn't comprehend the tragic consequences this would
      inevitably lead to in the future.

      The survivors of hurricane Andrew and the rest of the American people
      were
      betrayed by their own government. But the betrayal also extended to
      foreign
      nationals. At the time Andrew struck, South Dade was inhabited by a
      large
      population of Mexican illegal immigrants. The United States
      Department of
      Immigration was fully aware of their presence but quietly turned its
      back on
      the situation, knowing full well that South Dade farmers couldn't
      afford to
      harvest their crops without the help of the Mexican illegals. The
      heavily
      populated migrant camps were situated at the edge of the Florida
      Everglades.
      The people who lived there vanished without a trace during that fated
      night.
      Many bodies were found way out in the Everglades.

      When I lectured at the Clearwater Convention in Florida in 1999, a
      man in
      the audience stood up and introduced himself as Chief Petty Officer
      Roy
      Howard. He proceeded to address the audience with this exact
      statement,
      which is now a matter of public record:

      Just for your information, I was called up to active duty after
      hurricane
      Andrew went through South Dade County. I spent nine weeks down there.
      Now I
      will certify for the benefit of our audience here that the death
      figures
      that were officially published are totally inaccurate. According to
      the
      information which I received from my own sources within the National
      Guard,
      the figure I was quoted when I was down there was 5,280-something.
      And they
      were quietly disposed of in incinerators that were hurriedly put
      together by
      both the National Guard and FEMA...

      As the Chief Petty Officer stated, "5,280-something" bodies were
      confiscated
      by the United States National Guard. In addition to this, the Coast
      Guard
      independently confiscated "1,500 bodies" from the lakes and
      surrounding
      waters. Neither one of these figures embraces the number of dead
      bodies
      confiscated by other branches of federal and state government directly
      involved in the body pick-up operation. This leaves the number of dead
      confiscated by various US authorities in South Dade still unknown.

      The total number who died during hurricane Andrew is obviously
      staggering,
      yet whenever the "official death toll" is mentioned in the media, a
      figure
      of anywhere between 15 and 59 is quoted. The population of the 21
      communities annihilated by Andrew's eye-wall had been officially
      recorded by
      the Dade County Census Bureau as 415,151 before Andrew struck.

      Bodies of human beings confiscated and disposed-of like rubbish, as
      if their
      lives had no more worth or meaning than a piece of discarded litter--
      it's
      horrifying to be suddenly confronted by the same kind of atrocities as
      perpetrated by the Nazis. Once again repeating history, a master-
      minded
      cover-up was dutifully carried out by armed military forces, right
      smack in
      the midst of horrendous human suffering.

      To complete this historical comparison, in the same way that many
      residents
      who lived near Nazi concentration camps were unaware or in denial of
      the
      atrocities close by, so too were many residents who were located just
      outside the catastrophic devastation left behind by Andrew's eye-wall.



      GOVERNMENT BETRAYAL
      So what actually did take place when Andrew survivors tried to get
      help from
      those collecting dead bodies in the aftermath? Well, I for one can
      give a
      first-hand account.

      About the third day into the aftermath, a long line of police cars
      cautiously drove into my area during the late afternoon. We had not
      had
      contact with any other people from outside the devastation up until
      this
      point. There were approximately 12 to 15 police cars comprising this
      caravan, each marked from different locations throughout the state.
      Each car
      was driven by a man dressed in a dark police uniform and had three
      other
      plain-clothed men riding as passengers, making a total of four men in
      each
      vehicle.

      Someone from our group spotted the caravan and ran to get me, knowing
      that I
      had been badly injured and urgently needed emergency medical help. My
      twenty-five-year-old son and one other adult male survivor helped
      escort me
      to the caravan. We hurried towards the lead car. It stopped moving
      when we
      approached the driver's side. The officer sitting behind the wheel
      rolled
      down the window. For a few moments he rudely ignored us, at one point
      giving
      us an impatient look of disgust.

      This is the exact conversation and course of events that took place.

      "Please, sir, I need medical help," I begged, barely able to speak.

      The officer sitting behind the wheel sighed heavily. He turned his
      head away
      from me and gazed out his windshield. The other three men in the car
      quietly
      looked at me.

      "Sir, please, I need to get to a hospital...," I begged frantically.

      The officer took his time about reaching over to turn off the engine.
      With
      another sigh, he slowly opened the door and climbed out. He then
      proceeded
      to close the door and stood there with his legs spread astride.

      "Lady, do me a favour," he answered. "Find yourself a piece of paper
      and a
      pencil. Write down your name and social security number next to the
      telephone number of your nearest living relative. Tuck the piece of
      paper in
      your pocket so tomorrow, when I find your body, I'll know who to
      contact."

      "No! No!" I cried out. "You don't understand. I need to get to a
      hospital.
      I've been badly injured."

      "No! You're the one who doesn't understand," he hissed back.

      With that, he reached over to his holster and took out his gun. He
      grabbed
      me, forcing me up against the side of the car, and proceeded to put
      the
      barrel of the gun against my temple. I heard the hammer cock.

      From the position he had pushed me into, I could see directly into
      the car.
      The man sitting in the front passenger seat looked away from me
      immediately,
      glancing down at the floor. The two passengers in the back seat
      turned their
      heads quickly, staring out the window on the opposite side of the car.

      My son and the other survivor watched as the officer had pulled back
      the
      hammer on the gun. So shocked out of their minds by what they were
      witnessing, neither one could move!

      "You don't belong here!" the officer growled, pressing the barrel
      into the
      side of my head. "Now you get the hell outta here before I blow away
      your
      ass!"

      He shoved my face into the car window and then released me. Someone
      grabbed
      me from behind and whirled me around so fast, I didn't have time to
      think!
      Before I knew it, I was being thrown over a shoulder. My rescuer took
      off
      running as fast as he could! I caught a brief glimpse of my son
      running next
      to me. With one gigantic leap, he and the survivor who carried me,
      dove
      behind a pile of debris. All three of us crashed on top of each other
      in one
      tangled-up heap.

      "I'll shoot your damn asses!" the officer's voice rang out.



      When hurricane Andrew slammed into South Dade, the State Attorney of
      Florida
      was none other than Janet Reno. Her office was located at the Dade
      County
      Court House in the City of Miami. The President of the United States
      was
      President George H.W. Bush, and the Vice-President was Dan Quayle.
      Bill
      Clinton was running for President, and Al Gore for Vice-President.
      Senator
      Bob Graham held office, and the late Lawton Chiles was Governor of
      Florida.
      His successor turned out to be Jeb Bush, still the Governor of
      Florida and,
      ironically enough, the son of former President Bush whose other son,
      George
      W. Bush, the then Governor of Texas, has since become the "self-
      selected"
      President of the United States...

      Curious how the United States Government evacuated Homestead Air
      Force Base
      just before hurricane Andrew struck, yet never released the
      information to
      the civilians of South Dade.

      "This is worse than anything we saw in Saudi," said Master Sgt Lester
      Richardson (who had spent six months in the Middle East during
      Operation
      Desert Storm) one week into the aftermath. "These people need a
      miracleÉ"

      The survivors did need "a miracle", but what we got instead didn't
      resemble
      anything near it.



      MEDIA UNDERSTATEMENT
      While we remained roped off from the outside world by Metro Dade
      Police and
      the military, the news media reported grossly understated information
      from
      the first day onward.

      On August 24, 1992, the morning hurricane Andrew ended, the Miami
      Herald
      broke with:
      Andrew Hits Hardest in South Dade. Five thousand people were left
      homeless
      by the storm, Metro Dade Police Director announced. They'll be moved
      into
      shelters in North Dade.

      Over subsequent days, the Miami Herald read as follows:

      August 25, 1992:
      Destruction at Dawn. Among worst hit in the Country Walk area of
      South Dade,
      few homes escaped at least minor damage and many were utterly
      destroyed. 10
      killed in Dade.

      August 27, 1992:
      The Toll Rises. 22 dead as the search continues. 63,000 homes
      destroyed.
      175,000 homeless. 1 million without power.

      August 28, 1992:
      WE NEED HELP. Relief effort collapsing due to United States inaction,
      Metro
      charges. Aid us now or more will die, Feds told. As Dade County's
      hurricane
      relief effort neared collapse Thursday, more than 1,500 airborne US
      soldiers
      were ordered into the county to cope with what is now being called
      the worst
      natural disaster in United States history. The move came after a day
      of
      bitter sniping among agencies that share responsibility for the relief
      effort.
      United States aid official Wallace Stickler stated: "Andrew has
      caused more
      destruction and affected more people than any disaster America has
      ever
      had."
      Dade County's Emergency Director pleaded for federal help, one angry
      voice
      among many that spoke in dire terms of needs unmet. Frustrated to the
      point
      of tears, Kate Hale said that the relief project was on the brink of
      collapse, a victim of incompetence and political games:
      "Where the hell is the cavalry on this one? We need food! We need
      water! We
      need people! If we do not get more food into the south end [South
      Dade] in a
      very short period of time, we are going to have more casualties!
      "We have a catastrophic disaster. We are hours away from more
      casualties. We
      are essentially the walking wounded. We have appealed through the
      State to
      the Federal Government. We've had a lot of people down here for press
      conferences. But Dade County is on its own. Dade County is being
      caught in
      the middle of something and we are being victimized.
      "Quit playing like a bunch of kids and get us aid! Sort out your
      political
      games afterward!"


      On the same day Hale made the desperate plea, Miami Herald staff
      writers
      Martin Merzer and Tom Fiedler wrote:
      The question echoed through the debris Thursday: If we can do it for
      Bangladesh, for the Philippines, for the Kurds of northern Iraq, why
      in
      God's name can't we deliver basic necessities of life to the ravaged
      population of our own Gold Coast?"
      The short answer: because no single person or agency is in charge.
      The result: a planeload of food and equipment is still a rarity.
      Instead of
      delivering goods, helicopter pilots shuttle government officials who
      just
      sit idle. Metro police turn away individuals trying to bring in food
      or
      water to a barren South Dade.

      On August 29, 1992, six days into the aftermath, the Miami Herald
      reported:
      Problems Plague Red Cross. The man on the phone wanted to donate 100
      electric generators, extension cords and enough tools to build a small
      subdivision. But the operator who took his call at the Red Cross
      Command
      Center in Miami had no idea what to do with the offer.
      "We get a call, we take a message, we give it to somebody who signs
      it to
      somebody else," said the operator, Melitta de Liefd. "We have no idea
      what
      happens to it. The whole place is being run by senior citizens and
      college
      kids."
      Welcome to Red Cross headquarters--where the brains of Dade County
      rescue
      effort have been knocked almost unconscious most of the week.
      Callers offering services and supplies are put on hold. Others can't
      get
      through at all. The hurt and suffering plead for help over ham radio.

      On August 29, 1992, one week after hurricane Andrew struck, the Fort
      Lauderdale Sun Sentinel reported 250,000 people homeless in South
      Dade.



      A NUCLEAR INCIDENT
      Of course, the rather "insignificant" incident resulting from
      Andrew's winds
      bombarding the Turkey Point Nuclear Power Plant was not aired by the
      news
      media either nationally or abroad.
      Tom Dubocq reported in the Miami Herald of September 5, 1992:

      Demolition crews toppled a 400-foot smokestack at Turkey Point
      [Nuclear]
      Power Plant [owned by Florida Power and Light Company], Friday
      [September
      4]. The stack, which had a gaping 200-foot crack, was dropped without
      a
      hitch, a Florida Power and Light [FPL] spokesman said. The other
      smokestack
      at the plant will be salvaged. Turkey Point will be shut down for
      several
      months while repairs are made. The cost will exceed $90 million,
      according
      to an initial damage reportÉ
      When Turkey Point was built in the 1960s, its main structures were
      designed
      to withstand 235 mph winds. Hurricane Andrew was clocked at 164 mph
      at the
      plant. FPL officials don't know why the smokestack didn't hold up...

      One hundred million dollars worth of damage resulted from the nuclear
      power
      plant's smokestack having been cracked wide open. The plant is
      situated
      approximately 15 miles northeast of where I lived. How well I recall
      the
      leaflets circulated several months before Andrew struck, advising all
      residents within a "thirty-five mile radius" of Turkey Point nuclear
      plant
      to be aware of the potential hazards involved if an event such as a
      natural
      disaster or unexpected catastrophe happened. Such a grim reminder of
      the
      Chernobyl tragedy.

      Could it be more than coincidence that within 24 hours of hurricane
      Andrew
      ending, all 12 survivors in my little group, including our animals,
      broke
      out in big, raw, oozing sores which itched and burned at the same
      time? We
      suffered horrible headaches which made us so nauseous we had the dry
      heaves,
      and our stomachs cramped badly from sudden onsets of diarrhoea. These
      symptoms lasted well over three months. Within a relatively short
      period of
      time, each one of our surviving animals died from cancer.



      HURRICANE BUREAU'S FAILURE TO WARN
      Speaking of coincidence, I often wonder what kind of a coincidence it
      is
      that the National Hurricane Bureau is responsible for reporting to
      the US
      Department of Commerce--especially considering that during 1992 South
      Florida did $31 billion worth of trade in tourism.

      Hurricane Andrew had barely left Florida, heading for Louisiana, when
      the
      Division of Tourism placed a $47,000 advertisement in USA Today,
      reading
      "Florida, we're still open".
      "Most people have very short memories. We're all sort of banking on
      that,"
      said Donal Dermody, Director of the Nova University Center for
      Hospitality
      Management.

      Kind of puts a big damper on belief in the human race: hide the truth,
      ignore the suffering, do it for a dollar!

      What upsets me most is the incident that happened during the late
      afternoon
      hours just prior to Andrew striking. I had just walked out to the
      garbage
      dumpsters, located by the parking lot, to throw away some garbage. I
      turned
      to head back to the apartment when the horn of an oncoming car began
      blasting away. I looked up to see a familiar resident, whom I had
      spoken to
      on many different occasions, heading directly towards me. This
      particular
      individual worked at Metrozoo. Being affiliated with wild animals, he
      frequently stopped by to ask me questions about the behaviour of
      certain
      species. He sped right up to me and then slammed on the brakes.

      "Come here!" he whispered excitedly.

      I leaned down close to him. "What's the matter?"

      "Listen!" he paused to look around nervously. "You've got to get the
      hell
      outta here now!"

      "Why?" I asked, puzzled by his behaviour.

      "I haven't got time to explain," he whispered. "But I just came from
      the
      National Hurricane Bureau in the Gables. Gotta friend of mine who
      works over
      there; bigwig--know what I mean?"

      "Yeah..." I nodded.

      "Well, this isn't for public information, if you get my drift," he
      went on
      rapidly. "But the National Hurricane Bureau has known all along that
      hurricane Andrew is going to slam into South Dade! They're telling the
      public it's going to come in at Palm Beach because they want Miami
      Beach
      evacuated, and there aren't enough shelters for South Dade residents
      to
      evacuate to. They don't wanna cause panic. So they're keeping quiet.
      We're
      all a bunch of god-damn sitting ducks! You got to get the hell outta
      here!
      This is a killer hurricane! Nobody's ever seen anything like this
      before!"

      "Holy shit!" I exclaimed, shocked out of my mind. "You mean Andrew's
      coming
      over South Dade?"

      "Damn straight! That's exactly what I mean! They figure the eye of
      the storm
      is coming right in over us! Those fellas at the National Hurricane
      Bureau
      have known it all along! I'm gettin' the hell outta here now! Shit,
      man,
      this thing is a killer hurricane! Listen, I gotta run! Get your son
      and get
      the hell out now! You ain't gonna have a shot in hell once it hits!"

      I ran into the apartment and called my son at work, begging him to
      come home
      so we could get out. I had no reason to disbelieve anything I had just
      heard. I knew my neighbour well enough to know he wouldn't fabricate
      anything like this. So I related the entire conversation to my son,
      Eric. He
      was stunned! Eric said he would leave work within a few minutes, but
      as the
      minutes ticked on they dragged into hours.

      Another immediate course of action I took after hearing the terrifying
      warning from my neighbour was to phone the local CBS television
      station
      located in Miami. I called three separate times. Each time, my call
      went
      directly into the local news broadcast room of meteorologist Bryan
      Norcross.
      Although I never spoke to Norcross directly, I did manage to speak to
      three
      separate individuals working in the broadcast room.

      I specifically stated: "I live in South Dade, adjacent to Metrozoo and
      within walking distance of Country Walk, in a pre-fab apartment that
      is
      constructed to withstand up to 90 mph winds. Should I evacuate?"

      All three individuals advised and reassured me that I was situated in
      a safe
      area. There definitely wasn't need for me to take any evacuation
      measures.

      Meanwhile, one work catastrophe after another seemed to crash down on
      my
      son, until finally it was just too late for us to evacuate. By the
      time he
      got home it was almost midnight. Within minutes of his arrival, Andrew
      slammed into us with full force.



      ONGOING TRAGEDIES FROM THE COVER-UPS
      It's not easy dealing with the anguish I feel because of all the
      perpetrated
      lies. So much suffering resulted. It took three-and-a-half weeks
      before my
      son and I managed to escape the devastation on our own. Homeless and
      penniless, with no insurance to cover our losses, we slowly made our
      way
      north towards Broward County, our only possessions being the clothes
      on our
      backs and a demolished van. The long, agonising journey turned out to
      be
      another nightmare from hell.

      Over 4,000 people were officially listed as "Missing" in Andrew when
      we
      parted South Dade. I had lost 23 pounds during those wretched weeks
      of being
      trapped in the devastation and still had not received any medical
      attention.
      Little did I realise it would take another three weeks before a
      doctor would
      even agree to see me without any money or identification. By then,
      six weeks
      had passed since I had been injured. Most of my teeth had turned a
      putrid
      grey colour because the nerves had died as a result of fierce blows
      to my
      head, complicated by my broken jaw. The final heartbreak came when
      doctors
      discovered the optic nerve in both my eyes had begun to die off--which
      meant, because of the head injuries, I was going blind.

      This may sound strange but, regardless, it is the truth. Today, in
      the year
      2001, there still remain three ongoing tragedies created by hurricane
      Andrew
      cover-ups--tragedies which remain unbearable for the survivors to
      live with.

      The first tragedy is the horrifying fact that the bodies of our loved
      ones
      were intentionally confiscated from us by our own government and then
      so
      inhumanely disposed of. Without graves, or some kind of memorial
      erected in
      their memory, we have no hope of reaching closure.

      The second tragedy is the impact the cover-ups had in downplaying,
      dismissing and ignoring our horrendous suffering.

      And the third tragedy is the great number of Andrew survivors who were
      inevitably forced to join the ranks of approximately 10 million other
      homeless Americans struggling to stay alive on the streets. With 10
      million
      Americans homeless, and another 32 million Americans going to sleep
      hungry
      each night, the United States Government can't truthfully claim to be
      a
      government for all the people.

      Maybe it's just me, but I honestly thought the world learned a lesson
      from
      the Nuremberg trials in Germany: "Evil can only be defined as absence
      of
      empathy..."



      SIMILARITIES IN TURKEY
      On June 20, 2000, I flew to Istanbul, Turkey, where I lectured at a
      major
      international conference. While visiting there, I was asked if there
      was
      anything I specifically wished to do or see. My simple answer came
      very
      naturally.

      "Yes, I would like to visit the areas that were devastated by the
      earthquakes last August and November and spend time with the
      survivors."

      The following day my simple wish was granted. I was graciously
      escorted by a
      medical doctor who had unselfishly devoted many hours of practice in
      the
      devastated regions. When he informed me that 20,000+ died in August
      1999
      during the Izmit earthquake and that another 20,000+ died in November
      during
      the Bolu earthquake, I was stunned. This was not what the news media
      had
      reported.

      "Are you saying that between the two earthquakes last year, over
      40,000
      people died?" I asked.

      His eyes filled with tears. "Yes," he nodded sadly. "Over 40,000
      people
      perished, between the two disasters."

      The horrendous destruction I saw matched every word he stated. I
      walked over
      areas where the earth had opened up, swallowing entire buildings
      before
      closing back up again, like a giant white shark gulping down its
      prey. I
      understood when weeping survivors squeezed my hand tightly, too
      overcome by
      grief to explain how they never found the bodies of their loved ones.
      Long
      pauses of silence took over when tears replaced words.

      The poverty I witnessed was too startling to escape my poorly sighted
      eyes.
      Pathetic cardboard-type huts, covered by plastic sheets, greeted me
      everywhere I went. Then there were the bleak rows of government-funded
      temporary housing which lacked simple basic needs like indoor private
      showers.

      I often wonder, now that I've returned back home, how those Turkish
      survivors weathered the 115° temperatures of July, since their
      temporary
      housing lacked proper insulation and air-conditioning. As the month of
      August began to unfold, torrential rains bombarded the country,
      bringing a
      new kind of disaster: flash flooding. How many lives were lost to this
      disaster?

      The most pathetic survivors of all are children. Like many of the
      children
      who survived hurricane Andrew, many Turkish children whom I saw who
      could no
      longer smile or play. Shell-shock has very pronounced effects on the
      young;
      often, they stop communicating altogether.

      One little girl in particular caught my attention. Her arm had been
      badly
      injured, twisted into a permanent position of deformity. She stood
      very
      still, holding her hair in her good hand, never moving or showing any
      signs
      of emotion.

      "She needs medical attention," I said to the doctor.

      "Yes," he agreed, "a lot of the young survivors desperately need
      medical
      attention."

      His answer puzzled me. "But I thought financial aid was donated from
      foreign
      countries."

      "Yes," he nodded, "but most of the money ended up in the pockets of
      government officials. It never reached the survivors."

      How well I knew what that meant. How well indeed.

      After pausing, he added, "When the earthquakes struck, one foreign
      country
      offered to construct a hospital at the devastated site. But because of
      political differences, our government refused the offer."

      I left the Turkish people, wondering: what kind of future is man
      creating
      for himself? Only one thought came to mind: "Evil can only be defined
      as
      absence of empathy..."


      ----------------------------------------------------------------------
      ------
      ----

      Editor's Note:
      This article is based on excerpts reprinted in The Unopened Files,
      issues 17
      & 18, 2000, originally published in k.t. Frankovich's book, Where
      Heavens
      Meet (Language of Souls Publications, Inc., USA). To obtain a copy,
      order
      via amazon.com or send payment to: k.t. Frankovich, PO Box 703,
      Umatilla FL
      32784, USA (US$24.95 + $3.20 s&h in US; £14.99 + £3.50 p&h to UK;
      elsewhere,
      US$24.95 + US$8.00 p&h). For further information, visit
      www.kt.cjb.net or
      e-mail Kfrnkovich@... or Ukpoet@....

      About the Author:
      k.t. Frankovich has had a distinguished career as a writer in film and
      television, winning the 1975 Gold Venus award for documentary film
      writing.
      She has devoted her personal life to rescuing abandoned, lost and
      abused
      animals. k.t. is a poet and an author of short stories and several
      books.
      She is a frequent guest on radio talk shows across the US, and is
      passionate
      about exposing the tragedies surrounding the hurricane Andrew
      disaster.