There’s a lot more.  But I’m not here to brag.  I’m here to tell you that while “pride goeth before a fall”, pride is also necessary to motivate your personnel, and a little pride can go a long way.  If you are going to implement change in your organizational culture, there should be a reluctance to be where you were and a desire to go where you are going.  You can quote me on that.  But pride has to be tempered by a few things, reality being one.  Knowing that even the best are fallible is another.

It isn’t easy.  We have had our bad days just like everyone else, and we continue to have bad days just like everyone else. We too have people in our department who, given a million dollars in a briefcase, would be upset that it wasn’t on a silver tray.  I certainly don’t view everything with rose-colored glasses, although some people might believe that to be the case because I’m not talking about the negatives, but discussing the positives.  We have challenges and I have personal challenges.  But instead of seeing these as roadblocks, I see them as opportunities.

If you know me well, you know that I am actually a deep-seated cynic.  But I have been places where I have found such turmoil and trouble that I know I have absolutely no right to complain.  Unfortunately, I have been in a lot of these places.  Conversely, I have been in places where they have got it right.  They may not have every resource they ask for, but they make the best of what they’ve got and they remain hopeful and optimistic, knowing that each day brings them another little piece of the puzzle they can work toward completion.

There’s a fire department in a neighboring community where the Fire Chief used to be my chauffeur, a long time ago.  This guy gets “IT” and he has done everything he can do to infuse “IT” into his people.  When I ask his personnel how things are going with “Big Daddy”, I have never heard a single one of them complain.  They are upbeat and positive about their department, about where they are going, and about the leadership.  They make things work and they have fun doing their jobs.  And that Chief isn’t just letting people come to work and play checkers either.  They train often, they do all the jobs we do short of ALS transport, and all kinds of other things.  These people have a lot of pride in their organization and it shows.

I am extraordinarily proud of my department and most of all, of the people we work with, and the people we work for.  The community here is generally pretty proud of their department also.  We get a lot of letters of thanks and praise.  We get awards.  Our Town Manager pretty much says we stay off his radar, and that’s a good thing.  But it’s not all sunshine and roses and it’s important you know that.

There is being proud and there is being delusional.  While we are very honored to have our team and the resources entrusted to us, we also realize that at any time, at any instant, things can go wrong.  We realize that one saved building isn’t a far stretch, maybe nine or ten minutes from being a total loss.  While our community relies on the entire system to be good at what we do (through education, prevention, protection, service delivery, and customer care), one slip in the well-oiled chain can wreak havoc on the entire machine.

Not that this is a good time to be paraphrasing Brian Kelly (the head football coach at Notre Dame), but he tells his players that when they are on the field, they are 1/11th of the team. If everyone does their part, things will work according to plan.  When someone doesn’t, someone else has to do MORE than their job to take up the slack.  We can be as proud as we want, but if one person lets us down, we are all toast.  For those reasons alone, a little humility will go a long way when things don’t go as expected.

We tell people in our organization all the time, if you screw up, own the situation.  Raise your hand and say, “My bad” and we’ll do what we can to fix the problem together.  None of us, most of all, me, is perfect.  We’d better be ready and willing to say, “I’m wrong, I’m sorry” when it is warranted.  Our informal motto is, “Do the right thing”.  When you have that kind of an outlook at all times, it can solve many equations.

If your own organization is reaching and it seems frustrating, know that everyone, including the Phoenixes and the FDNYs and the Metro-Dades and the Fairfaxes all have their days.  Just like our department has, and I’m sure your department has.  The element of success, however, is to ride out those days as an intact team, absorb the problems, fix what is necessary, and move forward.  Don’t dwell on the problems, learn from them and move on.

Even the best have their moments, but if you take the time to reflect on what you have accomplished, realize how far you have gotten, and look forward to the trip ahead, the pride in that journey is a significant motivator to keep the team together.  Pride acts as one of many force multipliers.  Like any other tool, use it carefully.

As was quoted by at least one of my friends from the CFD prior to that night: “We’re the FDNY of the South.”  When your fire department has a Class 1 ISO rating and homes aren’t burning into the dirt on a daily basis, the public is just fine with whatever it is you are doing.  Whether your organization is using the most modern equipment and techniques, or whether they are utilizing tactics thrown away in the 70′s, there are much more important things on the public radar.  Things like whether or not the garbage will get picked up, or who the next contestant is on The Bachelor, or which rehab facility Lindsay Lohan is skipping out of.  The entire community of Charleston and the fire department itself, prior to that day, was fine and happy with the status quo.  Just like any disaster, it isn’t until people die that questions begin to be asked.

This isn’t an indictment of the department, its culture, or anyone in particular.  All I know is what I know and the things that were said before, on and after that night.  A big reason why I have never said anything really about it until now is that I wasn’t asked (I was this time).  But nothing I care to say would be intended to disparage the reputations or the character of the brave members of the CFD.  I simply believe that the charismatic style of their leader at the time led them down a primrose path.  He thought he was doing the right thing, everyone else there thought he was doing the right thing, and nothing seemed like it could go wrong, until it did.  Catastrophically.

I wasn’t at the incident in the beginning and frankly, in retrospect, there were many disasters converging at that exact location that evening.  It was inevitable that something bad would happen, given some of what we knew before, and of course, given what we know now.  I had to shake my head in wonder when I saw that one poster on a blog page wanted to know, “Where are all the chiefs in SC?” on the issue.  ”Why wouldn’t they do something before this disaster?”  Well, let me tell you a little bit about fire departments in the United States: Unless the public or their elected officials detect a problem, there is never going to be any change, no matter WHAT the chiefs in the neighboring communities or the state have to say about it. After the disaster, it is true, the collective anger and frustration not only from within, but from the overall fire service community was instrumental in causing a change, but really, it took the deaths of nine brave souls to make that change manifest.

All we can do now is honor the lives of those who go before us, pray for the families and help them deal with this tragedy, and hope we all learn from the events that evening.  Senseless doesn’t begin to describe the loss suffered by the principals of this story, and although I chalk up a great deal of what happened to hubris and over-confidence by the Fire Chief, and by default, the organizational culture, I don’t take anything away from the extremely fine and dedicated brothers who serve the community of Charleston, SC.  I can only pray that we don’t experience something like this again anywhere else on the globe.  In my heart, however, I know there are departments out there who learned nothing from this, therefore, we are only a heartbeat away from repeating these mistakes again.

I was lying on the couch in my living room when I got the first call.  The power was out at our house, so I was just working on my laptop, having just put the children to bed.  At the time, I was the Acting Director of the South Carolina US&R Task Force and awaiting our hiring a full-time Director to take my place in Columbia.  One of my Task Force Leaders rang my cell phone and asked if I had been briefed on what was going on in Charleston.  He said that there were several firefighters unaccounted for in a fire at the Sofa Superstore.

I am intimately familiar with Charleston.  I did the majority of my paramedic clinical time there in the 80′s and fell in love with the place.  My mother-in-law grew up in Charleston and we would go up there to visit her family, especially her well-connected sister and brother-in-law, often.   And when our second daughter, Caroline, was born, she developed complications resulting in a helo ride to the Medical University and a subsequent six-week stay in the neonatal ICU.  In response, my wife and I literally moved to Charleston and lived at a friend’s second home at King and Broad for the entire time.  We go back often and have developed many close friendships there.

I am also friends with a number of Charleston’s firefighters, although I never had the honor of meeting any of our brothers who passed that evening.  But at the time, no one really seemed to know who was involved, much less who was missing, so for all I knew, it could have been any one of the people I had grown to know over the years of interacting with the department.  And yes, I knew Rusty and many of the command staff who were there that evening, much as a result of my capacity with the Task Force and the ultimate oversight of their regional response team’s interaction with the State US&R Plan.

There’s really not much you can say when you get one of those calls.  I’ve been called for others like it before and several hours later find that the news was completely distorted from the original message.  You know, everyone ends up accounted for, or there was a mistake in transmission, or something like that.  And although I had every reason to believe what I was being told was true (this TFL has always been a good friend and dependable officer), I have to admit I was a little skeptical.  I told him to call me if he had any other information, and I’d call the State Fire Marshal, John Reich, who as the ESF-9 coordinator for the state, I technically reported to, and give him a heads-up.

When the power came back on a little while later, I clicked over to the Charleston news station and saw the coverage, and was immediately swayed by what was going on: an active search and rescue incident looking for multiple companies of missing firefighters.  Needless to say, things began to move pretty quickly, and it was really pretty much a blur after that.  Multiple phone calls between multiple state officers and the next thing was, the State Fire Marshal was asking us to represent the state at the incident and to offer whatever assistance was needed.

I can tell you this, given any State agency’s relationship with local entities, we were instantly cognizant that what we DIDN’T want was one of our incident support teams (IST) rolling in there and announcing we were there to take over, because we weren’t.  Not only would that be extremely callous and insensitive to the situation, we have no statutory authority to do so, short of a gubanatorial declaration of disaster (and that wasn’t coming).  So this was going to be a mission of extreme delicacy and an offer of assistance from the State Fire Marshal’s Office, and as such, I felt like it would be best if I went personally, even though we had an IST sitting across the river in Mt. Pleasant.

I called up Ed Boring and Jason Walters, who at the time were both Task Force command officers and work with me at Hilton Head Island, and told them I was heading up to Charleston on direction from John Reich.  Ed and Jason continue to work with me and over the years have become two of my closest friends not just because of our shared interests, but also because we served together at Katrina.  Nothing like a disaster and riding around in a dark-colored Suburban to create a bonding experience.

On our arrival, we were each stupified by the absolute desolation on the scene.  We got there before midnight, and at that point it was still not clear how many souls had been lost.  Everyone was in shock, or so it seemed.  The fire was still burning in places, but everyone seemed to be moving like their feet were in concrete.  Not in a slow, poorly organized way, but in a stunned, defeated, bewildered way.  It was definitely the scene of an enormous and horrendous event.

We delicately announced our need to report to the command post so we could speak to the incident commander, and kept getting pointed in a direction until we were finally pointed toward an empty pop-up tent with a single fold-up chair in the middle of the parking lot.  No one was there.  So we began to again poke around a little bit more, until we found Battalion Chief Robbie O’Donald, over by the ladder truck, which was still in the air.  Robbie, who was a member of SC-TF1 and also a member of the Charleston command staff, had very obvious burns across his hands and arms, but was standing at the front of the building with a portable radio.  I remember very softly calling to Chief O’Donald, because I honestly believed he was in total shock.  The burns on both of his arms were pretty graphic, with skin literally falling off of his arms, but here he was, still at his post.

After a brief discussion about who was in charge and where he was at, I asked Robbie if he realized his arms were burned.  He just kind of nodded and made a quiet, brief comment about trying to get someone out.  I asked him if he wanted to get his burns checked out, he just said he’d be okay.  Ignoring my suggestion, he led us over to a nearby gas station where the police had set up a command post of sorts, but no one was there either, so we went back over to the front of the store and stood around for a little.  Finally, I said to Robbie, “Hey, John Reich sent us up here to see if there’s anything we can do for you.”  Without answering me, he began to detail out for us where all the firefighters were lost at, including two on the other side of the wall from where we were standing.

I remember there was a back hoe sitting in front of the store.  ”You aren’t going to dig them out with that, are you?” I asked.  Given the state everyone was in, I didn’t quite know what to take for granted.  ”Man, I can bring you the entire task force down here, or just trucks and equipment if you guys want to do this yourselves, but you tell us what YOU want, we’ll do whatever it is YOU want.”  Trying to push him a little, I gave him my official business card, to indicate the official nature of my being there, and told him to take it to Rusty, and to let him know that whatever he needed, we’d get it there, just name it.  So Robbie took the card and went into the building and out of our sight, which was where Chief Thomas was.

After a while, Chief O’Donald came back out and told me, “Chief Rusty says we’re fine.”  Something in his face told me differently, and I’ve had enough experience to also know that things weren’t fine.  But I wasn’t going to argue.

“Robbie, we’ll be right over there,” I pointed to the street, “if you guys change your mind.”  He was staring back into the building again and I put my hand on his arm to let him know we were serious.  ”I don’t have the authorization to make a decision for Hilton Head, but given what’s going on here, if you need people up here to cover you guys, I know we can get a bunch of guys up here to cover you at least on a volunteer basis.”  He shook his head again and said, “Chief Rusty said we’ve got it.”

So we just wandered back to the road and got out of the way.  I called John Reich and gave him my report and said that we needed to send another representative later on when some of the shock wore off.  Then Ed and Jason and I stood by the road and watched as they carried the first five or six out, I don’t even really remember because at that point, I felt like this was something they needed to do themselves, and I wasn’t going to push the matter.  If they were my people, I’d want to be the one who carried them out, so I understood.  I also felt like our presence there, at that point, was more of a bystander than being of assistance, so we made our offers again, and with them saying once again they had everything under control, we left.  The ride home was pretty quiet.

I look back on that night with a certain amount of disbelief.  Did a department who fought as many fires as Charleston did really think they were going to make a knock on a commercial building fire with a single 2 1/2 inch supply line from a distant hydrant?  Did they really think an attack on a heavily-loaded big box with booster lines was a sufficient attack strategy?  Did they completely forget about the thermal imager sitting on their apparatus?  Did their hubris really lead them to reject the notion of calling for outside resources early into the incident?  Did the idea that “we fight these fires every day” with no semblance of modern command and control overwhelm the logical need for a coordinated rescue supported by protective lines?  Rather than trying to attack a fast-mover without opening up the overheads, might we have not approached this with a more defensive attack once it was realized that a victim was trapped in the rear of the building?

We can “what if” this incident to death, but it doesn’t reverse the past.  I personally know many of the key players in this saga and I can reassure you, none of them went to work that morning thinking, “Hey, I think I’ll kill off a few firefighters today”.  But that’s what happened and no matter how sure you are of yourself, when you lose nine firefighters and someone asks you, “Given what you know now, would you fight this fire differently?” and you say, “No”, you have got a serious problem.

Resources will always be a problem in the fire service.  We never have what we really need to do our jobs and we are always going to be understaffed.  We will always be questioned by the public as to why it takes so many of us to fight a fire and why does it all cost so damn much.  Then when all hell breaks loose, if we don’t make things happen, the public will scream that we didn’t do our job.  It’s the never-ending dichotomy of public service.  But to look at the lessons learned that evening and ignore them, well, it’s tantamount to killing your people.

It’s this simple: if you can’t fight the fire without killing your people, then why bother?  If a rescue were being made, it’s one thing, but the men who lost their lives weren’t in any position to mount a defense for the rescue teams; they were in attack positions and eventually retreat positions with nowhere to go.  They were actively trying to seek out a hidden fire while the whole time they were playing a game stacked against them.  There WAS no “Plan B”.  I’m not sure there was a “Plan A”.  If you drive by there today, it’s a big vacant lot.  These guys gave up their lives for their community, they gave what is identified in the Bible as being the greatest gift one can give to their fellow man: their lives.  But just like the 343 men who died in the World Trade Center, the public has a short memory of these people and their mission.  And when we ask for more funds, more manpower, or more equipment, more training, more support, or more apparatus, unless the stain of blood is still on the hands of the civilians from the latest disaster du jour, they have moved on to the next media extravaganza of the week.

Me, I have an obligation to my family to come home in the morning.  I have an obligation to the families of my personnel to make sure they leave in the morning as well. If I don’t keep sharp, if I don’t fully comprehend the situation I am sending companies in to engage, and if I don’t have the means to put the tools in their hands they need, then I am failing them.  No amount of pride, a patch, a label, or honors will do you any good when you are carrying out your dead and for what?  If we can’t be there for each other, what have we really got?

Where were you that night?  You may not have been there, but the lessons are all available for us to read and to learn from.  If we fail to address the deficiencies, or short of that, at least identify methods of modifying our approach, or even less, realizing we simply don’t have the appropriate resources and stating: “we’re going to let it burn”, then we are ignoring the legacy of these fine men, these Charleston Nine, who have gone on before us.  As leaders, we have a responsibility to learn and not make the same mistakes again.  Honor these men by perfecting our craft and striving for positive change in the fire service.  I never knew them, but I’ll bet that’s what they’d have wanted.  Let’s keep them forever in our memory and insure they are never forgotten.

The phalanx was an example of artform, of excellent teamwork.

Firegeezer posted a very recent article that reminds us art, as in beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.  I found this interesting, especially since I just finished writing this post as well and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect (and the image he posted I’m sure attracted a lot of curiosity as well).

While there are individuals out there who think that art is only art if it speaks equally to everyone who views it, there are those of us who see things differently and can see beauty and form in things ranging from a symphony to that of graffiti. It’s a matter of being open to what constitutes art.

Now before you think I’m one of those people who think throwing a bucket of paint on a canvas is art (I don’t),  I think there’s a quote that defines it very nicely, from my own perspective, of course: “Art should not have to be explained”.  There are individuals who think that anything is art, and yet, to me, if it is ambiguous and requires explanation, then it hasn’t conveyed any message at all.

Art in its most basic form, to me, has to send a message.  If you can examine a piece of art, even some of the most hallucinogenic pieces, and at least grasp the concept, or can see or smell or feel something about it (even revulsion, I guess, if that’s what you are trying to convey) then to me, you are creating art.  Whether I should have to FUND your wild-ass version of art, we might have a discussion about later, but I digress.

Just as a musician composes her artwork, or a painter his, or a photographer, or a chef, we as leaders should consider our masterpiece in people and in developing the synergy of teams.  We should have vision and an understanding of what it is we want to convey when others engage our artwork; we should choose objectives like colors and use those directions to define our artwork; we should compose our piece by insuring that the people, their output, and their interactions work together like colors and the perspective and the proportion work together.

Leading is an art form.  There are those of us who can appreciate a well-orchestrated, professional team and conversely, we can recognize bad art, that is, thrown-together, amateurish, and discordant “teams”.  Does your team reflect art or is it haphazard and lack thought?  Is it a free-for-all like a bucket of paint thrown up on the wall (that even my three-year old could do) or has it gone under the microscope and been honed into perfection?

Treat your teams like a masterpiece and appreciate what you can do if you take the time and refine your people.  Step back and take in what each part lends to the orchestra and realize that if you conduct it, and shape it, you can take even the most out-of-tune elements and weave them into a concerto that amazes all who behold it.  While not every element sounds in tune alone, together, and with the right synchronization, it can be plugged in to create greatness. When you can do this, others will see you as a true leader rather than one who just so happens to be playing along with the band.

SC-TF1 US&R working in St. Tammany Parish, LA after Katrina.

I’m sure everyone out there continues to keep an eye on Haiti.  I’m not easily shocked, yet even I have been amazed at some of the scenes from down there.  Every time I see another bit of news, I want to go hug my children and remind myself how fortunate we are.

When friends and family see the situation there, not knowing how US&R deployments really work, I get asked if SC-TF1 is going.  Each time, I have taken that opportunity to explain the workings (and separation) between the USAID/DART assets and domestic response (FEMA US&R and State US&R assets) and how “task forces just aren’t sent to international disasters through FEMA”.  Of course, by saying “never”, something I NEVER thought I’d see in all of my years working in this business is occurring: the cooperation and coordination of FEMA with EMAC for the possibility (note I said, “possibility”, not “probability”) of State US&R Task Forces being deployed along with FEMA-sanctioned assets to an international disaster.

But all that being said, in watching the events unfolding, I continue to try to get my head around the response and it frankly has been a challenge.  With any disaster, there needs to be an attack plan, but in most cases, these plans hinge on some basic tenets of organization, none of these which seem to apply in Haiti.  Having been hit by several prior disasters recently, the country was already in extremis and the current situation obviously doesn’t improve things.

I have already heard from my sources that the teams that are there are working under heavy force protection.  Any of us that thought operating in New Orleans post-Katrina was sketchy, one look at the situation in Haiti makes us understand that at least we had the force of law SOMEWHERE on our side.  Reports have indicated that aside from the overwhelming number of missions and dangerous conditions, another part of the reason that engaging missions is problematic is because there simply isn’t any way to get the equipment from the airport to the disaster: roads were bad to begin with, there’s only one active runway at the airport, and there’s no machinery to off-load equipment and supplies.  Once the materials do happen to get onto the ground, no matter what conventions you try to apply for allocating the resources, there isn’t any guarantee the locals will comply with it anyway.

So for this disaster, there are other “sub-disasters” that make it much more dire, and even the media isn’t astute enough to understand it.  This situation is going to get MUCH worse before it gets better, because there’s no way to effectively get the help to where it needs to go, and if it did get there, there’s no guarantee that it will be applied to the right area anyway (unless you count “at gunpoint” as an effective means of allocating resources).

While equipment and supplies are arriving, we could just send everything we have to the area, but without the people who know how to work it, the equipment is useless.  While one friend of mine said to this, “If you gave me a concrete cutting saw, I could probably figure it out”; I mentioned to him that if you didn’t know water was an important part in making the saw blade cut more effectively, failing to do something as simple as that might mean the difference between extricating someone with one blade or a half-dozen blades.  It occurs to me that there are nuances of working with our US&R tools that are completely lost on the uninitiated.  I said this the other day: “It’s the definition between an organized US&R resource and ‘mobs with shovels’”.

My point is, after all this rambling, is that this is very much a teachable moment for everyone, just as I hoped Katrina and other disaster have been.  Even for some of my non-emergency service readers out there, there is an extremely important lesson to be learned: Every community must understand its vulnerabilities and the potential for disaster, and plan accordingly.

The caveat to this is, that despite the presence of a written plan, you can have every contingency covered and discussed, if you don’t understand and practice the plan, it isn’t worth the paper it is written on (Anybody remember Katrina?).

It is imperative that elected officials along with those of us who serve the public safety sector of our respective communities (AND the citizens living in those communities) understand what likely scenarios can occur, know where the vulnerable populations exist, and understand what resources are needed.

For responders: If those resources aren’t readily available, it is then incumbent upon us all to know where to get those resources, how to legally obtain and use them, and even more important, when and how to call them.

For the elected officials: It requires insistence on development of these plans as well as FUNDING to support the plans.

For non-responder citizens: Maybe you should understand that you have a part in this as well, to insure you are prepared to go it alone for at least 72 hours and maybe have some ability to rely on your own preparedness and not look to government for the total solution.  Try checking out the recommendations here at the FEMA website.

So without too much further delay, maybe this is a moment for all of you (elected officials, responders, and citizens) to dig out your volumes of plans and look through them and begin to understand not only what is in them, but at least what your part in that plan will be if, God forbid, you have to utilize them.   While we here in the United States are subject to the same disasters as other nations, at least here, there is the force of law to keep this type of situation from getting out of hand (note the sarcasm).  My suggestion: have a plan, support it, practice it, and if things go badly, USE IT.

Stay safe and let’s keep the responders as well as the citizens of Haiti in our prayers.

In their latest issue of Disaster Research, there is an article regarding government response and recovery and the increase in governmental partnerships with faith- and community-based organizations to assist in cleaning up catastrophes.  In the recent past, we have seen ineffective response from certain portions of government that have assumed responsibility for this service at the local, state and federal levels.  I don’t think anyone who works in our field and  is taken seriously about their views on the subject feels like “government” alone can deliver an entire package of assistance to a disaster-stricken community.  However, there is plenty of debate about how to most effectively coordinate assistance in the wake of a calamity.

Of all things in our industry, our frustration with failure of some politicians to continue to apply heat (and funding) to the problem BEFORE disaster strikes is only compounded by the political “outrage” when disaster occurs and we are accused with not properly preparing in advance (still with limited or no budget or legislative action on our behalf).

In an answer to some of these challenges, some state and local governments are forming coalitions that guide organizations providing emergency response. Missouri, Florida, Texas, and a few others have, according to a recent article in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, begun to develop alliances between emergency managers and NGOs.

There are many discussions regarding the potential for blurred church and state separation which can’t even begin to be adequately addressed in a short blog post.  However, those issues aside, NGOs over the past decade have been efficiently providing disaster recovery assistance and have been successful in finding resources that governmental bodies can’t seem to scare up.

This discussion doesn’t also begin to factor in the entire over-reliance on “outside” help in the event of disaster.  This was a point made by Alan Kirschenbaum in earlier works referring to the growth of the disaster response community that seem to be related to the decline in perception of individual responsibility for preparedness.

While this all has some serious discussion ahead of it, I have less of a problem with this type of assistance than I do with pseudo-qualified responders self deploying to events with little or no capability or self-sufficiency.  I think there are plenty of avenues for a person with altruistic motives to get involved with an organized response; it’s the poseurs and con-men I’m interested in keeping away.

I’m open to some observations on the subject.  I think if managed correctly, these NGOs have access to resources currently limited to those of us charged with response, and we should take advantage of creative partnerships, as the organizations I am affliliated have already done.  Look around your community and identify capability that lies outside of the conventional response.  You’ll be surprised by the resources that lie out there and I think you’ll find that instead of spending essential funds on assets that already exist, you can find better uses for that money in areas that are currently underserved.