WASHINGTON — In his tumultuous first year as the federal government's disaster czar, James Lee Witt has survived a baptism by flood, wildfire, earthquake, ice storm and, most recently, tornado.
More important, he has rescued the Federal Emergency Management Agency from the edge of disaster, disarming lawmakers who suggested disbanding FEMA after its inept performance during Hurricane Andrew in 1992.
Inheriting an agency beset by criticism and sagging morale, Witt has begun to reform FEMA even as he has scrambled to cope with the nation's recent plague-like string of calamities. He has converted FEMA from a catastrophe itself into an operation that is able to coordinate disaster relief with striking cohesiveness and effectiveness.
"I can't say enough good things about that guy," said Rep. Howard P. (Buck) McKeon (R-Santa Clarita), who represents the area at the epicenter of the Northridge earthquake and rarely flatters the Democratic Clinton Administration. "He's down to earth and he's a doer. There's no stuffiness about him, no ego about who's getting credit or who's doing what."
This agent of change is a soft-spoken, self-made man from Wildcat Hollow, Ark., who happens to be the first head of FEMA in its 14-year history with emergency management experience. He responds to cataclysms with a high-profile, hands-on style and a single-minded determination to assist victims as rapidly as possible. And, he enjoys extraordinary access to a President whose confidence he gained while they battled floods and tornadoes together in Arkansas.
Witt, who took charge of FEMA last April, has repeatedly demonstrated his mettle during Midwestern floods, Southern California fires, the tornadoes that cut a swath across the South last month and, most dramatically, amid the chaos caused by the Jan. 17 quake.
After the temblor, Witt seemed to be everywhere. He visited Red Cross shelters in the San Fernando Valley. He met with community leaders in South-Central Los Angeles. He toured Fillmore's stricken downtown. At each stop, he shook hands and expressed empathy and listened.
"It was just incredible," Witt said of the first frantic days. "When I visited the parks and Red Cross shelters, people were coming up to me and they were just grasping for something to give them hope and make them feel they'd be safe. There were several nights when I didn't sleep much. It really bothered me from a personal standpoint and it reinforced how critical it was for us to do whatever we could to help them and to do it as quickly as possible."
Three days after the quake, Witt faced the nightmarish prospect that FEMA's progress in the past year would be unraveled by the long lines of distraught and desperate victims who overwhelmed government aid workers. He was furious when he found that people had stood outside one application center in Northridge all day, only to be given an appointment to return three weeks later.
A red-faced Witt, clad in his trademark blue Windbreaker, blue jeans, ostrich-skin boots and white shirt, fumed to aides: "This is absolutely unacceptable. How come I wasn't notified this was going on? We can't have this."
Within two days, 1,800 workers--some bilingual--arrived from around the country. More disaster and telephone registration centers were opened and the FEMA application form was streamlined. A potentially explosive crisis was diffused. And FEMA was awarded high marks by local officials as well as quake victims.
Three months later, about 2,450 employees work seven days a week to process a record-shattering 500,000 aid requests. Complaints about computer glitches and ill-informed telephone operators have cropped up, but overall reviews remain positive.
Witt, 50, came to Washington with the new Administration. He had served as Arkansas' director of emergency services for the last four years of President Clinton's tenure as governor--handling 38 tornadoes, snowstorms and floods. Before that, he was a judge in rural Yell County--an administrative post that included disaster relief.
During his decade as a judge, Witt and his two sons would hop into his beloved '85 Chevy pickup in the middle of a stormy night to check the roads and bridges. He carried his duties so far that he'd get up from dinner to assist an elderly resident who needed groceries or a lift to the doctor, his sons recall.
In Washington, Witt took over an agency struggling with a dual purpose: to integrate the federal emergency preparedness and response duties dispersed throughout various departments and to ensure that the government could continue to operate after a nuclear attack.
