"We learn geology the morning after the earthquake." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
My First Earthquake
Water under the bed
On a hot summer day in the middle
of July a few years ago, I was standing in front of a washer and dryer, having
just removed the laundry. Suddenly, the laundry machines
started shaking as if on spin cycle even though they were off. I stood there in
confusion for a moment, before realizing: “EARTHQUAKE!” Running to the door, I
saw all the trees in the neighborhood swaying back and forth. And then it was
all over.
That was it; that’s my entire experience with earthquake. It was a ridiculously small earthquake, barely enough to crack plaster across the city. But it was what happened in the days following the quake that left me rattled.
Over the course of the next few days, the newspaper was full of articles reminding citizens about the earthquake season of 1935, when a series of 1,200 quakes rattled our town over the course of a long winter, the biggest of which damaged 80% of the town's 3,000 homes and killed several citizens. There were also articles reminding everyone about basic earthquake preparedness steps encouraging everyone to be ready for “The Big One”.
Because this little practice earthquake had occurred on a 90 degree day, I realized that in spite of my previous preparations, in event of a “real” quake, water lines would rupture and everyone would be thirsty pretty quick. Because my water storage was lacking, I made a commitment to expand it. Henceforth, every single time I entered a grocery store to buy food, I also picked up a six-pack of bottled water, reasoning, “If I can afford food for today, then I can also afford water for tomorrow.” Each six pack cost about a buck, so it was a simple means of expanding my water supply easily and cheaply without busting my budget. I boosted a bed up on six-inch stilts so there would be room enough to store them underneath. Here they were well hidden, out of the way, protected from freezing in the winter, yet instantly accessible. Eventually I discovered that the bed was big enough to shelter 106 six-packs of water. That would afford me 636 cool drinks of water on a hot and thirsty post-disaster day.
I thought this was a remarkably sensible thing to do, so I started talking about this incremental method of water storage with my friends and neighbors.
To my surprise, they all thought it was silly and ridiculous. I was baffled. Hadn’t they experienced the same mini-quake as I had? Didn’t they read the same newspaper articles I did?
They had indeed. However, their attitude was, “Why should we store water? If the water ever goes out, somebody will come along to give us a drink!”
“Yes,” I said, “They will, although you might be thirsty for quite a while before they arrive. How long is an acceptable period of time to be thirsty before Somebody Else comes along to give you a drink? Besides, do you really want to spend your time after a disaster waiting in long lines for water, along with a bunch of other people who also thought storing emergency water was silly? Wouldn’t you rather rely on you own supply of water which is immediately available, and then be free to go and do the next thing on your list of post-disaster chores?”
Shrugs and brush-offs were all that I got in response.
It occurred to me then that after an earthquake on a 90 degree day, all of my friends and neighbors would be heading over to MY house to get water, rather than wait for the Red Cross or the National Guard to show up. Therefore, I would have only two options: Give them water, or send them away.
I am never going to be able to stand around sipping a cool drink of water when people I know and love are thirsty. Therefore, I resumed my commitment to buy water every time I entered a grocery store, so that I will have enough water to share. I found an area in my crawlspace basement perfect for long-term storage of water and began to fill it up, one jug at a time.
I now have several hundred gallons stored indefinitely; I hope this will prove to be enough when word gets out that I’m the only one in the neighborhood with a supply on a hot day in the middle of July.
I wonder how much I’ll be able to charge for a drink of water on that day. I bet they'll be glad to pay.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if everybody had water under their bed? And no one had to wait for water?
That was it; that’s my entire experience with earthquake. It was a ridiculously small earthquake, barely enough to crack plaster across the city. But it was what happened in the days following the quake that left me rattled.
Over the course of the next few days, the newspaper was full of articles reminding citizens about the earthquake season of 1935, when a series of 1,200 quakes rattled our town over the course of a long winter, the biggest of which damaged 80% of the town's 3,000 homes and killed several citizens. There were also articles reminding everyone about basic earthquake preparedness steps encouraging everyone to be ready for “The Big One”.
Because this little practice earthquake had occurred on a 90 degree day, I realized that in spite of my previous preparations, in event of a “real” quake, water lines would rupture and everyone would be thirsty pretty quick. Because my water storage was lacking, I made a commitment to expand it. Henceforth, every single time I entered a grocery store to buy food, I also picked up a six-pack of bottled water, reasoning, “If I can afford food for today, then I can also afford water for tomorrow.” Each six pack cost about a buck, so it was a simple means of expanding my water supply easily and cheaply without busting my budget. I boosted a bed up on six-inch stilts so there would be room enough to store them underneath. Here they were well hidden, out of the way, protected from freezing in the winter, yet instantly accessible. Eventually I discovered that the bed was big enough to shelter 106 six-packs of water. That would afford me 636 cool drinks of water on a hot and thirsty post-disaster day.
I thought this was a remarkably sensible thing to do, so I started talking about this incremental method of water storage with my friends and neighbors.
To my surprise, they all thought it was silly and ridiculous. I was baffled. Hadn’t they experienced the same mini-quake as I had? Didn’t they read the same newspaper articles I did?
They had indeed. However, their attitude was, “Why should we store water? If the water ever goes out, somebody will come along to give us a drink!”
“Yes,” I said, “They will, although you might be thirsty for quite a while before they arrive. How long is an acceptable period of time to be thirsty before Somebody Else comes along to give you a drink? Besides, do you really want to spend your time after a disaster waiting in long lines for water, along with a bunch of other people who also thought storing emergency water was silly? Wouldn’t you rather rely on you own supply of water which is immediately available, and then be free to go and do the next thing on your list of post-disaster chores?”
Shrugs and brush-offs were all that I got in response.
It occurred to me then that after an earthquake on a 90 degree day, all of my friends and neighbors would be heading over to MY house to get water, rather than wait for the Red Cross or the National Guard to show up. Therefore, I would have only two options: Give them water, or send them away.
I am never going to be able to stand around sipping a cool drink of water when people I know and love are thirsty. Therefore, I resumed my commitment to buy water every time I entered a grocery store, so that I will have enough water to share. I found an area in my crawlspace basement perfect for long-term storage of water and began to fill it up, one jug at a time.
I now have several hundred gallons stored indefinitely; I hope this will prove to be enough when word gets out that I’m the only one in the neighborhood with a supply on a hot day in the middle of July.
I wonder how much I’ll be able to charge for a drink of water on that day. I bet they'll be glad to pay.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if everybody had water under their bed? And no one had to wait for water?