Shake, Rattle, Roll and Worry

Friday, August 17, 2007

Page 11

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

Shake, Rattle, Roll and Worry

By J’AMY PACHECO

Boy, talk about doom and gloom hanging overhead. As I write this column, a hurricane is steamrolling toward Hawaii – where some of my family members happen to be vacationing. Toymaker Mattel – whose products fill my daughter’s playroom — has recalled a bazillion of their toys. My “baby” is heading into her last year of elementary school, and not only is scary junior high on the horizon, but she has grown out of just about everything and needs a small fortune’s worth of clothes.

As if all that weren’t enough of a worry, I just read an article that said the region in which I live is overdue for a giant earthquake. The earthquake fault in my neighborhood hasn’t seen any real action, I read, since zealots were hunting witches in Salem, Massachusetts.

I’m a California native. I know all about earthquakes. I vividly remember the Sylmar earthquake of 1971, when I lived less than an hour away from the epicenter and awoke to find my bunk beds swaying perilously. I experienced the Whitter quake of 1987 from a far shorter distance, and mostly remember the way the wineglasses in our wine rack snapped off at the stems, flying across the room while leaving their bases hanging uselessly in the rack.

When the desert town of Landers shook in 1992, I was only 60-ish miles away from the epicenter. I recall clinging to a doorjamb and watching as the walls moved like they were made of jello. I went through those landmark quakes, and many smaller ones in between.

So if anybody should be prepared for an earthquake, it’s me. The fact that I live a handful of miles from the San Andreas Fault should ensure that I keep a supply of everything that would be needed in an emergency. Heck, I’ve even written here about how important it is to be prepared.

What does it mean to be prepared? According to the Southern California Earthquake Center (www.earthquakecountry.info) it means having on hand canned and packaged food, drinking water, gloves and goggles, medicines, sleeping bags, extra clothes, and many other things most of us probably have not yet assembled. (There’s no mention of stemless wineglasses, but I have a feeling those might come in handy, too – along with something to put in them.) Experts recommend each of us assemble at least a week’s worth of supplies; more if we live in a remote area.

Since I don’t have an earthquake box, I looked in my pantry to see what we’d have to work with if The Big One struck today. Three cans of tuna, two cans of olives and assorted cans of Vienna Sausages, hash, vegetarian refried beans and some corn looked promising – as long as the barbecue in the backyard survived undamaged. Uncooked pasta, some dry cornbread mix, instant oatmeal and two containers of garlic powder would probably be far less useful.

Water would definitely be a problem. Since we tend to get our drinking water from a refrigerator dispenser, we could be looking at our toilet tanks in desperation in the event our water supplies were cut off. Ewww.

If my family is prepared in any way, it’s with flashlights and batteries. Thanks to my industrious husband (and a temporary power loss during a storm a few months ago) we have flashlights hanging on the back of nearly every door in our house. At least our searches for food and water would be well-lit.

What causes me the most concern, however, is the prediction that major freeways, like the I-15 that separates the High Desert from everybody “down below,” could be severed. Since my husband and I work on the south side of the San Andreas fault and our daughter attends school on the north side, my greatest fear is that freeway damage would keep our family from reuniting.

Watching an online earthquake simulation, I realized The Big One could well thunder through my office, turn left at the mountains and head straight for my husband in Los Angeles, leaving our daughter alone.

Clearly, we need more than supplies. We need disaster preparedness plan.

I don’t know if being prepared will make the whole scenario less frightening, but it will ensure we’d know where our children are, and lessen the chances of us having to drink toilet water from our stemless glasses.

We know it’s coming. We know it’ll be big. So let’s all make a pact right now to start getting ready for the next earthquake.

And after that — well, I guess I can shift my worries to junior high…