Such disaster surely couldn't happen here, but it has. And even though nature is an equal-opportunity devastator, we can't help noticing that the majority of those marooned and afflicted were the poor, and most of those - in New Orleans, at least - are black.
When we finally catch our breath and take a close look at Katrina, we'll have to look at that, too. Why were so many left behind when what happened was not only possible, but also expected? If we can evacuate a city after it has been dealt a deathblow, why not before the fact?
It has always been unimaginable that we would be caught so unprepared for calamity, especially a hurricane, which solicitously gives us fair warning. Earthquakes sneak up. Terrorists rarely make appointments. But hurricanes give us ample time to prepare, to evacuate, to stock up. And yet, thousands of people either stayed or were left behind to ride out the storm.
All our notions of nightmare seem to have been released like time-trapped demons by the force of an otherworldly perfect storm. Dead bodies and the carcasses of family pets simmering in stagnant water are unthinkable. The unconscious mind, haunted by specters of disease, decay and deadly snakes, seeks respite in the cooler climes of hope and denial.
It is truly a horror, yet one barely begun.
What lies ahead is a test for all Americans, not just those directly affected. This is one of those times when we redefine ourselves by our thoughts and actions. Alongside the contempt we feel toward the lawless scourge unleashed by the floods - the looters stealing not bread but guns - we also feel grateful for the best within and among us.
Let's hope our reserves of patience and generosity run deep in the weeks and months to come.