Dressed in faded olive casuals, she stood on the deck of the USS Intrepid moored to Manhattan’s West Side. The flat, wide space held an encampment of orange FEMA tents filled with starving children. The sky buzzed with aerostats, their elliptical silver bodies struggling to lift aid packages to the designated tents. The smell must have been terrible; the interviewer held a cloth to her face and shouted over the thwack of helicopters and shouting people.