The help would be the last to show up: choppers food-bombing the disaster area, ground convoys of federal rescue paramedics, bureaucrat refugee managers with their hard-ass official charity of soup-kitchen tents and paper clothes. Eventually, help would arrive, all right. You couldn’t keep the government help away. After so many years of heavy weather, the help didn’t have a lot of genuine compassion left, but they sure as hell had had a lot of practice.