Friday, September 23, 2005
Page 15
AT THE SIDEBAR (Column) Disaster Preparedness Starts at Home
By J’AMY PACHECO
Hurricane Katrina is three weeks behind us, while Rita is headed for the Florida Keys (where, I understand, some residents have decided to take a chance and “ride it out.” Are they kidding?)
Images of tragedy and loss have been almost non-stop on television and in the newspapers I receive. Internet groups to which I subscribe have ceased talking about our mutual hobbies while members rush to collect supplies for those affected by the hurricanes - including one fellow group member whose family was left homeless and with nothing more than the clothing in which they fled.
It’s a comforting thought to know I live in the California desert, where I have a better chance of making friends with a space alien than I do of experiencing a hurricane.
Of course, I live a few miles from another notorious disaster threat: the San Andreas earthquake fault. I’ve been through a few notable quakes - in fact, I retain a vivid childhood memory of leaping from my bunk bed when the Sylmar quake started, falling to the floor, and screaming until my mom ran upstairs to get me.
I lived at the tail end of the fault that caused the Whittier Narrows quake when that one hit, and had relocated back to the desert just in time to experience the Landers quake.
I’ve experienced many smaller quakes in between, and have no doubt one or two more will come along in my lifetime.
So, am I ready for them?
Nope.
As a California native, you’d think I’d know better. I know, for example, that I should have at least a three-day water supply on hand for each member of my little family. I know I should have canned goods laying around, and a manually operated can opener with which to get into them. I know I should keep gas in my car, cash in my house, extra medicines and eyeglasses, and lots of first aid supplies. I should know how to turn the gas to my house off, and I should not only have extra batteries around, but I should actually know where my flashlights are.
I know that disaster preparedness starts at home. Yours, maybe. Unfortunately, not mine.
If I were a disaster-preparedness diva, I’d ride out any earthquake secure in the knowledge that my appliances and china cabinet were firmly bolted to the wall and were, therefore, not going to crush me. I’d drive my fully gassed car toward my child’s school, stopping only if the road became impassable or gridlocked. If that happened, I’d pull sensible boots from a backpack stored in the trunk, pausing to collect a box of water from the disaster preparedness kit in the backpack, and start walking.
Once we were home, I’d check for gas leaks, and I’d know whether or not to turn the gas off - and how.
If my house wasn’t safe, I’d retrieve our tent and camping supplies from the garage, and set up camp. If it was safe, I’d light some candles and prepare a delicious meal of whatever was melting in the freezer. We’d go to sleep knowing that until help arrived, we’d be okay.
Since I’m not a disaster diva, I imagine I’d be tottering around the ruins in high-heeled pumps.
At home, I imagine we’d be the pathetic people retrieving water out of the tank on the back of the toilet, and eating dry, uncooked ramen noodles for dinner. Since ATMs are unlikely to work if the power is out, I suspect we’d be scouring the couch cushions and the bottom of the washing machine for loose change to buy whatever is left on store shelves.
If necessary, we’d sleep outside on our tent. I say “on” the tent, because while I know where the tent is, it’s unlikely I’d be able to quickly locate the poles or stakes that hold it up. We might even end up living in our Toyota, wishing it had gas. Or at least curtains.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. There is no shortage of disaster preparedness advice out there. There is nothing stopping any of us from getting the supplies that we may one day need, and storing them for an emergency.
Water, non-perishable food, flashlights, batteries, a portable radio, first aid supplies and knowledge about those gas wrenches would be a good place to start. Go to www.prepare.org, and the Red Cross will tell you exactly what you need to buy and do — in multiple languages, including Hmoob. (Now, that’s what I call prepared!)
So disaster preparedness doesn’t start at my home. But with a little effort, it can.
Starting today.
Copyright 2005, Metropolitan News Company