Living in a Disaster Zone

This past week we watched hurricanes kill people, destroy the homes, businesses, and families of Americans living in Puerto Rico and Florida. Living in earthquake and fire prone California, I know a little about the wisdom and luck of surviving these natural disasters. However, I also know that all we can do is plan, heed warnings, and pray for the best. The reality is that the sun shines equally on good and evil people in this world and so even the very best people among us could lose everything. The question is what comes next, especially when we know that climate change will increase the frequency and ferocity of some of these disasters.

I’m a long-time resident of Southern California and I experienced my first significant earthquake while living in Los Angeles on February 9, 1971, at around six o’clock in the morning. The 6.9 earthquake startled me out of my deep adolescent sleep before my alarm went off. I remained in bed and grabbed both sides of my twin bed, naively thinking that if I crashed through the window at the head of my bed, I would safely sail to the ground below from the second floor. Of course, that was foolish thinking, but survival was definitely on my mind. My mother’s voice from the other room to stay put was a welcome reminder that I wasn’t alone, and I took her words as the advice I needed to stay alive. I learned later that this was her first earthquake, too.

The damage to our home was minimal, but the damage to places closer to the epicenter in Sylmar was extensive. Soon thereafter, my mother became an earthquake preparedness expert and taught community courses for the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. Her children were her first students. To this day I heed her lessons and have added a few additional preparations since technology changed.

My mother’s lesson on earthquake preparedness is the reason that we bolt bookcases to the wall, why I don’t sleep naked, why I keep shoes beside my bed and a flashlight and more recently an extra cell phone battery pack in my nightstand. She is the reason that I pay attention to the placement of items around the house and why I keep updated earthquake preparedness kits in both my car and in my most secure closet. She is the reason I keep an additional pantry of extra cans goods and bottled water in my garage pantry. She is the reason I know how to turn the gas off and why we keep a fire extinguisher.

Over the years, buildings in California have become much more earthquake resistant and although I’ve experienced earthquakes much stronger than that 6.9, our homes have not experienced any major damage. I’ve learned not to stand under doorways with swinging doors. I’ve learned not to immediately run outdoors. I’ve learned that if I’m in bed, to cover my head with a pillow. I’ve learned to crawl under a strong table or desk. Earthquakes are scary but fully expected in California. They are not the result of man-made climate change and so they have not become more frequent. Unfortunately, the same is not true when it comes to our problem with wildfires.

In my mid-teens, while living in the San Fernando Valley, there was a huge wildfire. We were living against the foothills of the Angeles National Forrest. In fact, that forest was in our backyard. I was always on guard for rattle snakes and coyotes, but I hadn’t ever thought about the danger of forest fires since they were rare in those days. But then one night, my mother rushed throughout out house waking us up and telling us to get dressed. When I was finally awake enough, I could hear a man’s voice on a bullhorn outside saying we must evaluate. I quickly dressed and looked around my room. And that’s when I saw this bright red glow outside my window, just above the hill in the backyard. Empty-handed, I quickly ran outside and looked back at the house. I could feel the heat that accompanied that bright red glow and was immediately filled with terror. We piled into the car and drove to my mother’s sister home in Los Angeles. I’ll never forget the fear nor the gratitude I felt towards those firemen lining our street that night, ready to do battle to protect our neighborhood.

Thankfully, the firefighters were able to save our home and the neighborhood that day. But I learned a few important life lessons. First, I learned to never purchase a home in a fire zone. In California, many homes are built in or against hills and forest areas. If the fire doesn’t destroy your home, a mud slide might. I learned to heed the order to evacuate immediately when the authorities give the order. Trying to stay only adds an additional burden to the already challenging job of first responders and no property is more important than my life and that of my loved ones.

Over the years, we’ve considered moving to escape what has become a frequent and year- round wildfire problem. While our personal property is not in danger, we are negatively affected by the smoky air, road and business closures. We’ve had so many fires in our area that we’ve purchased multiple air purifiers. I stay inside the house and sometimes I’m limited to one particular room with the air purifiers running to minimize the smoke. If I must go outside, I have to wear a mask to guard against the particles.

But where would we move? Natural disasters seem to be everywhere. In some places, they have tornados. In others, they have floods. In others, they have hurricanes. With climate change, we can expect to experience these disasters more frequently. My guess is that eventually we can also expect greater migration as people seek safer places to live. Some places are going to become uninhabitable or ultimately too expensive to rebuild every year.

When this last hurricane hit Puerto Rico, I asked my husband why people are still living on that island after the last one and whether he thought we should continue to invest tax- payer dollars to rebuild a place where we know the next hurricane will destroy everything all over again. Some people did move, but others stayed and said they stayed because they love their home and their community and believe it is worth trying to save. However, as insurance companies pull out of disaster zones, the financial burden shifts to all of us through tax funded FEMA and donations to the Red Cross. My question is whether climate change, fiscal responsibility and charity will even allow for the option to rebuild in the near future.

For now, we are staying put in California. However, with continued draught and wildfires, increasing water shortages, and the looming “big one” (earthquake) we might one day find ourselves packed up and moving to safer ground as well. The migration of people may not just be at our border, but within the United States itself. Of course, crossed off the list of possible destinations are Florida and Puerto Rico.

May God have mercy on the weary souls who have lost loved ones and everything else. And may God grant us the wisdom and the will to do what we can to stop climate change.