Like everyone I know, I’ve been watching the news about the earthquake,
tsunami, and nuclear threat in Japan. As awful as this disaster is, though,
it’s nothing new. Just think about the years since the Indian Ocean earthquake
and tsunami of 2004 and Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Droughts all around
the world. Forest fires all across Russia. The earthquake in Haiti a little
more than a year ago. The eruption of the volcano in Iceland. The recent
earthquakes in China, Chile, and New Zealand. Tornadoes up and down the
Midwest. Blizzards and floods all winter long, heat waves all summer. (One
day last October, there was a late heat wave in Long Beach. The temperature
outside was 113. I swear it was 110 in my apartment.)
You watch the news, you see a survivor standing in a devastated landscape. No matter it it’s been a tsunami, an earthquake, a wildfire, or a tornado, where there used to be a town, now all that’s left are mud and stacks of lumber and cars on roofs. This survivor used to have a life. An ordinary life. Survivors used to own homes and cars, furniture and appliances. They had food in their cabinets. They had clean clothes. They could take showers. And now? It’s all gone. I heard an interview of a man in Japan who said he needed to take a bath. He was standing next to an enormous mud puddle that had been his house. It just breaks your heart.
One of my authors is a Japanese violinist whose family still lives in Japan, though she herself hasn’t lived there in several years. I sent her a quick email—how’s your family? Are they safe? She replied that her mother and sisters live south of Tokyo and are all right. When I sent $100 to the Red Cross, I thought about her and her family. In 2005, I was editing a textbook on counseling for a psychologist in Houston. When refugees from New Orleans arrived in Houston, he took his graduate students to the shelters and gave people free counseling. When I sent money to the Red Cross that time, I thought of the kindness of my author. I know that kind people all over the world are sending money to the Red Cross and a whole list of other agencies to help people whose houses and lives have been swept away. I hope you’ve done so. How much more can each of us donate? They’re going to need our help for a long, long time.
I was already planning to write this month’s blog about the Community Emergency Response Team (CERT) before Japan was struck. CERTs are groups of volunteers in every state of the U.S., from one each in Idaho and Vermont to 129 here in California. I just did a Google search and got 37,000,000 results. Check out this CERT website http://www.citizencorps.gov/cert/ and explore it. You’ll learn a lot. Find out if there’s a CERT where you live and sign up for the classes. No matter where in the world you live, there’s gonna be a disaster sooner or later. CERT classes teach us how to be prepared.
The idea for CERT was developed by the Los Angeles Fire Department in 1985, when they started training civilians like you and me to work with the first responders to disasters that range from house fires to train wrecks to earthquakes and tsunamis. Since 1993, CERT training has been endorsed by FEMA.
I first learned about CERT late in 2005 (after Katrina), when the City of Long Beach held a disaster preparedness exhibition. I attended it and met Fire Fighter Paul Rodriguez, the LBFD CERT coordinator at the time. (Paul, and the other teacher at the time, Reyes Montez, had been to New Orleans after Katrina and told us arresting stories about preparedness—or the lack thereof—in the South.) CERT classes, which are taught by fire fighters and volunteers, are free, usually one a week (three hours) for six weeks. I learned some basic first aid, triage, a bit of search and rescue, how to use a fire extinguisher, how to make my home safer, and how to shelter at home. Later, I took Red Cross/CERT classes in CPR and sheltering.
Sheltering, either at home (if your home is still standing) or in a Red Cross shelter is a biggie: the first responders are going to have more important places to go than the building I live in. The streets will be wrecked, and they probably won’t even be able to get here. That’s why I need to be able to take care of myself and my cats. My neighbors need to be able to take care of themselves, their children, their pets, their property. We need to be able to help each other. That is a key concept: take care of yourself, take care of your neighbors. And help the first responders if you can.
My friend Sibyl Keirns is the educational director of the Long Beach CERT. She seems to have devoted her life to CERT and presents workshops to any group that wants information. She also organizes classes in ham radio operation (if there’s a disaster, our landlines and cell phones probably won’t work) and staffs informational tables at civic events. When I asked her what people should know if there’s a disaster, she said, “The three main things to do in preparation for disaster are (1) Water. Absolute must. (2) Food. (3) Shelter. This involves a ‘Go Kit’ for home, car, and work, with all the essentials in case you must fend for yourself. There are many aspects of preparedness,” she added, “but these are the most essential. … The degree of preparedness determines the comfort of your existence during a disaster.”
Here are a few things you need to begin to be prepared. Go to a CERT website, get a fuller list, and sign up for the CERT classes. I don’t want to be seeing any of my friends on a TV news report showing the dead victims of some disaster.
As Sibyl says, first, you’ll need water, about a gallon per person per day for about three weeks. You need to know where to find water (consider your hot-water heater and toilet tank) and how to purify the water.
Second, you’ll need food you don’t have to cook because your stove and microwave probably won’t have any power. You won’t be able to order take-out pizza. There are survival websites that sell prepackaged ready-to-eat meals.
Third, you need a survival kit in your bedroom and another one in your car, and if you work outside your home, a third one under your desk at work. If people who live in Long Beach work in downtown L.A., for example, they’re like to be refugees for a month. What to put in your kit? (1) Flashlights and extra batteries. (2) A first-aid kit and extra latex gloves. (3) A whistle. You’ll need to get the responders’ attention if you’re trapped. (4) Sturdy shoes and several changes of clothes. (5) A battery-powered radio so you can listen to reports of what’s happening. (6) Duct tape and plastic bags of various sizes. Paper products (toilet paper, facial tissues, paper towels. (If your home’s been destroyed or there’s no water, you may have to go to the bathroom in a plastic bag.) (7) Cash in one-dollar bills. ATMs won’t work, and you won’t want to be paying $20 for a bottle of water. Get a stack of ones. (8) Notebook and pencils or pens. This is only the beginning, of course. When you take your CERT class, you’ll get good advice and a more complete list. As a CERT graduate, I also have several T-shirts and a green hard hat and stylish vest that says CERT on the back.
It seems to me that Mother Earth must be getting really annoyed at the way mankind is treating her. She’s scratching and moving and trying to … whatever. We can’t read her mind. The Boy Scouts are right. We need to be prepared!