Jackson Free Press

It's time for "Rescue 911 is a Joke" with Flava-Flav: "Yeah boyeeeee! Check out this phone call between Mayor Ray Nagin of New Orleans and Sis Ernestine, the Emergency Operator."

Ernestine answers phone after 10 ringy dingies: "Snort … This is Ernestine. How may I help you?"

Ray Nagin: "This is the mayor of New Orleans with an urgent request for help. While these floodwaters rise, crackheads need a fix, sick folk are dying, and people need food and water. It's awful down here. I need reinforcements, troops, buses, everything!

Ernestine: "Mr. Naggin, sir …"

Ray Nagin: "That's Nagin, not Naggin!"

Ernestine: "I'm sorry, Mr. Naggin. The president, vice president and secretary of state are vacationing, and FEMA is BRAINSTORMING—excuse my pun—with the National Guard. … Snort!"

Ray Nagin: "Miss Ernestine, your jokes are tired. If something doesn't happen now, I'm gonna get rowdy, loud and BLACK! You feel me?"

Ernestine: "Hold your horsies, Mr. Naggin! Help is on the way! And remember: Long distance is the next best thing to being there. … Snort! Snort!"

Frustrated Ray Nagin: "Aw crap! Don't tell me people are coming here! They're not here! It's too doggone late. Now get off you're @SS and do something, and let's fix the biggest GODD@MN crisis in the history of this country!!!" (Nagin hangs up the phone.)

Ernestine watches Wolf Blitzer of CNN News report on Hurricane Katrina victims.

Ernestine: "My, those poor people are sooo black."

Ken Stiggers is a TV producer in Jackson.

Previous Comments

ID

70853

Comment

A poet named Hermand Bennette, Jr., wrote some 30 years ago, "Ain't No Help On The Way." If I could I would make every poor and minority high school student read his poem. Here are some portions of it. There ain't, There ain't no help on the way, And tonight is judgment day There ain't, There ain't no heaven on the way. There ain't, There ain't no pie in the sky, Dig yourself, This is your by and by, And there ain't no help on the way. There ain't, There ain't no King on the way, Your street degree, Is no longer slick, And there ain't no liberals on the way. With crimes, apathy, And things left undone, No way in hell we gonna overcome. Cool died at the funeral of super hip, and you can't bring it together rolling your eyes and poking your lips, Right on has become left off, and straight ahead has made a "U" turn, And there ain't no burn baby burn. With knowledge in your head, Money in the bank, Food in your cupboard, Gas in your tank, You won't have to wait, Wait for help, That ain't -- That ain't on the way.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2005-09-29T12:33:02-06:00

ID

70854

Comment

Ray, that poem you quoted reminds me of Langston Hughes' poem "A dream Deferred." It also makes me think of someting I read in the bible in the book of Revelation: The love of many shall wax cold. Peace, love and universal understanding..

Author

Stiggers

Date

2005-09-30T00:59:22-06:00

ID

70855

Comment

Herman loves Langston Hughes. He often wears a button on his shirt with Langston's picture on it. He's a graduate of Tougaloo College, and has houses in New Orleans and New Jersey. I can't wait to see him again and learn whether he was caught waiting on the government despite his poem.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2005-09-30T07:49:32-06:00