Steve Hebert for The New York Times  Small painted stars thank outsiders who helped with the recovery in Joplin, Mo. Among them: an elephant and acupuncturists.  THEY arrived in the usual waves.  First the police and firefighters came to help comb the rubble for survivors and victims. Then the crush of news media hurried in. They were followed by the relief volunteers, filling the path of the devastation with good will and extra hands.  The politicians came, too, promising that this place would not be forgotten. Soon the businessmen and con artists showed up, slinging services and schemes they promised would get people back on their feet. Eventually, the big idea men arrived to add insight to it all as they researched books, filmed documentaries or conducted academic studies.  And along the way there were unexpected visitors: a crew from the television show “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” arrived to rebuild an entire street of houses; Acupuncturists Without Borders came to promote the benefits of sticking needles in ears to reduce trauma; and an elephant, guided by circus employees, appeared to help clear the debris.  Except for the pachyderm variation on the theme, the pilgrims who came to Joplin last spring after the tornado — the deadliest in the United States in more than a half-century — were typical of those who follow any major disaster. Though these new arrivals were drawn to Joplin for different reasons, bringing different skills and intentions, they were all, in a word, outsiders.  “It’s funny how the outsiders call us locals,” said Jane Cage, a businesswoman who leads the Citizens Advisory Recovery Team and has met with many of these delegations of visitors.  In this city of about 50,000, where 115,000 volunteers have registered in the last seven months (and several times simply showed up), outsiders have become a fundamental — and indispensable — part of the community.  “We never could have recovered ourselves; the job is just too big,” Ms. Cage said in an interview in her office a few weeks ago. “People have been really generous. But they are not going to come forever. At some point along the way we’re going to have to rely on ourselves, like we always have.”  That shift, already becoming apparent but still some time off, will be a crucial transition for the community as the spotlight begins to fade and the burst of adrenaline that accompanies the early frenetic months of rebuilding begins to give way to a sense of just how long and difficult the effort will be. Many local leaders, from the governor on down, have said that a main focus is to use media attention to draw continued outside help and postpone that moment as long as possible.  Irwin Redlener, director of the National Center for Disaster Preparedness at Columbia University, said that the influx of people, money and attention after a major disaster typically fades during the “most vexing and most difficult” phase of recovery, as the drama of disaster gives way to the bureaucracy of rebuilding. “It’s fatigue syndrome,” he said.  Mr. Redlener, who dispatched a three-person team to Joplin last month to study, among other things, why some communities are more resilient post-disaster than others, credited Joplin’s leaders for keeping volunteers, donors and the news media engaged. The members of Mr. Redlener’s team, echoing sentiments expressed by many others here who have visited devastated communities, said the speed of progress has been impressive.  As the new year begins, the signs of recovery are everywhere in Joplin, from the sounds of swinging hammers, to the matchstick profiles of emerging houses, to the unmistakable sense of optimism that infuses conversations about “good coming out of bad.” A place like this feels more manageable when strung up in Christmas lights.  Still, it is impossible to miss the scars of the tornado that tore a path 13 miles long and more than half a mile wide through the heart of the community, killing 161 people and destroying thousands of homes, a hospital, a half-dozen schools and hundreds of businesses. More than $1 billion in insurance claims have already been paid, according to city estimates.  A. G. Sulzberger is a national correspondent for The New York Times, based in Kansas City, Mo.
A natural disaster like the tornado that hit Joplin, Mo., is a magnet for those who come to help, to gawk and to take advantage.