Disaster Readiness

By Sally Franz

Everywhere I have lived there was some kind of natural disaster to prepare for. Growing up, my town flooded out every 10 years or so by the local brook. As a precaution the library had bookcases with no books on the bottom 2 shelves. The stream near my house breeched its banks almost every spring. That was great for fishing when the local hatchery upstream emptied out into the river. When I was 14 I saw people were building in the flood plains. I wonder which sleazy real estate company sold it to them. Sure enough the next year the homes were up to their windows in brown flood waters. We could have told them if they had asked. On the bright side, when the waters subsided we always found Indian arrowheads sticking out of the washed out river banks as we floated downstream on inner tubes.

As a newlywed I lived in Connecticut where the ice storms would take out powerlines every winter. You always had a supply of crackers, peanut butter and cocoa mix. The hope was that you had enough wood to cook canned stew and heat the house with your fireplace. The snow storms were massive. But I was young and it seemed like fun to walk along the four foot snowdrifts. Driving was nuts; more like a bobsled run out on the streets. My step-dad used to drive around the block with us on a rope tow on skis or on a boogie board. Where the heck was my mother on this one? Ah, when dads are left to babysit.

Later I moved to Oklahoma. There were tornado sirens on the telephones poles. I remember waking the kids up when the sirens went off. That meant hiding in the bathtub fort with a mattress for a roof, flashlights, story books and a tub of ice cream with multiple spoons. I wonder if they remember camping out in the tub. (NOTE: Do not hide in new tubs, the old ones were cast iron and stayed put.) My tub picnics goal was to make it an adventure, not something scary. I used to have picnics in January on the living room floor, so they were used to the absurd at home. My favorite tornado story was of some rich lady who got in her Cadillac to run away from the twister and ended up in a tall tree. She lived but the car was totaled. You can’t outrun a tornado because you might zig when it zigs. And for the record, I never went into the storm cellar like the one in “The Wizard of Oz”. Someone shined a light into one once and way too many poisonous spiders, snakes, and dark scratching critters ran for cover. I always took my chances above ground.

Then I lived in California in earthquake alley. The water would slosh out of the swimming pools, palm trees would sway like a hurricane. There were often aftershocks that could be worse than the first hit because whatever the first one dislodged the aftershocks could bring down be it dishes, trees or power poles. At Christmas I would watch the ornaments start swaying like an angel (maybe of death) had just passed by and jiggled the tree. Sometimes the quakes would hit in the middle of the night and I would start incorporating the vibrating bed into a dream of white water rafting or screaming on a roller coaster. When I’d finally wake I’d have to find my slippers, which were always just under the bed. The number one injury for earthquakes is cut feet from all the glass that shatters during a “big one”. So you learn. Every bookcase, cabinet and frame is bolted to the wall. You never put anything over the bed that you don’t want hitting you on the noggin. Fabric murals and dried flower wreaths are the best options.

The thing is after the big Y-2K scare and trying to use up all the dried food and the 20 gallons of water in garage, I realized stuff happens and you can’t live your life waiting for the next disaster. But that doesn’t mean I am not prepared. I always keep extra ice cream in the freezer just in case we lose power and have to eat it all. A girl has to think ahead.

Sally Franz and her third husband live on the Olympic Peninsula. She has two daughters, a stepson, and three grandchildren. Sally is the author of several humor books including Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey and The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause. She hosts a local radio humor segment, “Baby Boomer Humor with Sassy Sally”.