Katrina in Kansas.

By David Von Drehle

A tornado so huge it looked like Satan's wide-tip marker obliterated an entire Kansas town with winds over 200 m.p.h. Days later, when President George W. Bush arrived to dispense hugs and sympathy, he found scarcely a roof still on four walls. Not a leaf left clinging to a tree. Lumber scraps lay strewn like hay behind a boisterous hayride.

Yet somehow, this scene had a familiar feeling to it. Echoes of Katrina clanged like fire bells. Kansas Governor Kathleen Sebelius, a Democrat, charged that the emergency response was slow because the National Guard is overextended by Iraq. Supplies of heavy equipment are down to 40% in Kansas, she said--equipment needed for disasters at home. "If you don't request" new equipment, White House spokesman Tony Snow fired back, "you're not going to get it." Then it turned out that Sebelius had raised the issue repeatedly since 2005--even in one long conversation with Bush himself.

Tornadoes are among the least predictable storms. It was a lifesaving triumph that forecasters were able to alert the people of Greensburg 20 minutes before the monster struck. But the sad spectacle of finger pointing and recriminations in the aftermath of disaster is becoming as predictable as the stoicism of survivors and the inevitable promises to rebuild.

This was the first supercyclone to dominate the news since the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change forecast bigger and more ferocious storms due to global warming. Was there a message in that? True, twisters are not as easily tied to climate change as hurricanes are. But any big storm can serve as a test of the nation's ability to respond to sudden shocks. Clearly, we're still far from acing that test.

Meanwhile, in New Orleans, another hurricane season is approaching, and the Army Corps of Engineers has announced that flood-control measures are still far from complete. Residents tried to enjoy the annual Jazz and Heritage Festival, symbol of the city's spirit, an event rescued from near death by a grant from Shell Oil. Too few tickets have been selling because broad stretches of the city remain desolate and depopulated.

Mother Nature sent torrential rains.