Community Networks Fill Gaps as Disaster Aid Becomes Less Predictable

Schools, churches and libraries are becoming more important to disaster recovery as federal aid grows less predictable. Their role is practical: they can open shelter, organize supplies, connect residents and sustain local support while towns face recovery bills. They cannot replace large-scale public funding, but their relationships and gathering spaces can help communities respond when outside assistance is delayed or denied.

Michigan’s recovery begins locally

Four tornadoes crossed southwest Michigan in early March 2026, killing four people. They were the state’s deadliest natural hazards in decades. Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer sought Federal Emergency Management Agency assistance for uninsured and underinsured losses. FEMA rejected the request and then rejected an appeal.

In Union City, where an EF3 tornado killed three people that March, the first help came from nearby residents. School administrators opened the high school as a shelter on the night of the storm. Volunteers brought food and supplies, and the local United Way established a relief fund. Donations went to the school, where staff worked out how to route supplies to people who needed them.

A church damaged by the tornado also created a fund to help residents cover insurance deductibles. These efforts illustrate what local institutions can do quickly: make space available, gather resources and direct help through people who know the community. Residents are usually the first to respond after a disaster. In Union City, the unusual feature was that federal assistance did not follow.

A widening gap in federal support

Federal disaster decisions have become harder for communities to anticipate. The Trump administration denied 26% of major disaster declarations in 2025, more than twice the rate from the year before and above the 15% average denial rate over the prior two decades.

Several analyses cited in the source describe a sharp divide in approvals. A study of roughly 2,500 disaster declarations dating to FEMA’s creation in 1979 examined states where the governor and both U.S. senators belonged to the same party. In Trump’s second term, nearly 90% of requests from states with Republican leadership were approved, compared with 23% from states with Democratic leadership.

Colorado had both of its 2025 appeals rejected. The state had not faced a denial since the 1980s. Florida received a different outcome: in June, Trump announced US$416 million for the state’s disasters, without identifying a specific event, and said much of the funding would go to the Panhandle. A January 2025 snowstorm there was linked to 13 deaths and approximately $200 million in damage.

A separate analysis of FEMA data by Andrew Rumbach, a senior fellow at the Urban Institute, found that during Trump’s second term about 84% of requests from states he won in 2024 were approved, compared with about 42% from states he lost. The White House has denied that political considerations affect disaster assistance. Whatever the explanation, the uneven pattern adds uncertainty for communities planning how to pay for recovery.

Local governments already carry substantial costs. FEMA owes them almost $10 billion in reimbursements for recovery work that cities and towns have paid for. When a disaster declaration is denied, a town may be left with costs as high as 15% of its annual budget. Philanthropies and aid groups, including Team Rubicon, are taking on larger roles, though nonprofits cannot replace federal funding.

Why community ties matter

Research on disasters points to the value of places that keep people connected. After Hurricane Katrina in August 2005, floodwaters reached 12 feet (3.6 meters) around Mary Queen of Vietnam Church in a low-income neighborhood in east New Orleans. By summer 2007, about 90% of the neighborhood’s residents had returned home. Across New Orleans, the share was 45%.

The church’s Rev. Vien Nguyen helped coordinate supplies, organize volunteers and keep residents in contact while many evacuated to other states. The account suggests that recovery depends partly on whether people can maintain relationships and coordinate help when they are dispersed.

Research conducted during the COVID-19 pandemic found a related pattern. Comparing otherwise similar U.S. counties and accounting for differences in politics, governance, health care quality and demographics, the study found that two forms of social connection reduced the pandemic’s toll. “Bonding” ties connect neighbors and families; “linking” ties connect residents with officials. Schools, libraries and faith-based groups can provide settings where both kinds of relationships develop.

Everyday spaces, practical capacity

Libraries already serve as support centers during extreme temperatures. In 2025, 44.7% of U.S. public libraries operated as cooling or warming centers, up 8.2% from 2022. Yet awareness and planning remain uneven: 84% of library directors surveyed agreed that libraries have a critical disaster response role, but only 36% knew federal law allows libraries to seek FEMA relocation funding to move to safer ground. Just 51% had an emergency preparedness plan.

Funding patterns leave these community spaces with limited support. More than 90% of federal disaster funds went to roads, utilities and other conventional infrastructure in the early 21st century, while less than 10% went to libraries, parks, schools, places of worship and community centers. Some funding may rebuild these facilities, but it rarely pays to keep them operating when residents need them most.

A study of Japanese communities found that places with a higher density of social infrastructure experienced half the number of deaths from the catastrophic tsunami of March 2011 compared with similar communities that had fewer gathering places. The finding underscores the potential value of maintaining spaces where residents can meet, share information and organize assistance.

As public aid becomes less predictable, local recovery will depend more heavily on whether these institutions are ready and open. Libraries with preparedness plans, schools able to shelter residents, and civic and faith groups that can mobilize volunteers offer a practical layer of support. Their capacity will matter most in the period when immediate local needs are clear but longer-term funding remains uncertain.