When I was a kid, I read Out of Harm's Way by Terri Crisp. It was essentially an autobiographical book about animal rescue efforts undertaken by one woman. Particularly -- or at least the parts I remember most clearly -- rescue efforts after the 1992 Hurricane Andrew in Florida. The short of it is, until Andrew, animal rescue efforts post disaster were not much of a thought. People mostly focused on helping and rescuing people (most understandably).
Terri Crisp sort of organized post-disaster animal rescue effort things and made it a real organized effort after that hurricane. She fixed and streamlined efforts, as well as devised ways to allow people who wanted to help but weren't officially authorized to help, saving boatloads of animals (sometimes literally) in the process. I believe the book also goes into a fire disaster and an oil spill disaster, but I remember the Andrew parts most clearly.
I looked up to her a lot and thought it was impressive and wonderful for her to put so much effort, time, and heart into saving animals. They are often an afterthought in disasters, despite being living creatures and (often) being quite integral to the mental health and well-being of their humans.
Many, many years later I randomly googled Terri Crisp, and found some disheartening drama. Apparently she came under fire for a charity misusing funds and not putting them toward actually rescuing animals. Much of this occurred during the 2005 Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, particularly due to the influx of money and donations after that disaster. An accountant working for her charity described her as feeling entitled to money.
It's not really understandable or justifiable, but part of me gets part of it. There really is no glory, money, fame, etc. in saving animals, and it is a difficult discipline where it's pretty easy to become jaded. Some people will, after all, question your raison d'être entirely and claim you should instead focus all efforts toward human rescues (despite that there are well-qualified, well-equipped legions of people already doing that). All of this most probably has something to do with getting disenchanted with people and some element of entitlement arisen after much hard and good work went unappreciated or even criticized.
Involved in animal disaster relief since Hurricane Andrew in 1992, Brown alleged that Crisp had been escorted from the vicinity of three subsequent Florida disasters by sheriff’s deputies, for failing to get proper authorization to be there. “I have no knowledge of the people who volunteer for Noah’s Wish being involved in any illegal or unethical activities,” Brown clarified. “I will even go as far as to say that if they would operate within the established system and agree to play by the rules, then we could probably work with them just fine. It is their director, Terri Crisp, whom I have a problem with.”
California’s attorney general launched the investigation into Noah’s Wish after a bookkeeper with the charity and others alerted his office to questionable business practices. The former bookkeeper, who wants to conceal her identity for reasons unrelated to her work at Noah’s Wish, told CNN that donations came pouring into Noah’s Wish soon after Hurricane Katrina. Crisp had appealed for donations on numerous television networks, including CNN. “There was cash, there were checks, there were cashiers checks, there were letters – heartbreaking letters from kids who, instead of having birthday parties, they wanted all the money to go to Noah’s Wish to help those poor little animals,” the woman said. “On a given day, we would have, oh my gosh, easily $20,000 … just in checks.” And she said suddenly Terri Crisp changed, hiring her daughter and acting as if the money was hers to keep. Both made six-figure salaries, the former bookkeeper said. “Terri at one time said, ‘I’ve worked hard for so many years, doing animal rescue, I am entitled to this money.’”
Never meet (or randomly google many years later) your heroes, indeed.