ExposureBlog

CliffNotes Version: Hazards abound. Be circumspect. 

Being flooded out of one’s home is an exposure event—as is trying to decide how to rebuild a devasted neighborhood.  While this article was written within days of the Katrina incursion, it’s still one of the best.  Worth reading.  Not to be overtly dolorous, but I challenge anyone to name one place in the United States that is safe from irreversable damage.  Tacoma, Washington was one of the best places to live during the nuclear testing–it was one of the few places in the U.S essentially free of Nevada Test Site fallout.   But shortly after the nuclear testing ended, Mt. Rainier began acting up. Now, as luck would have it, Tacoma is up for a possible mud flow of historic proportions.  It might even take out the venerable Magoo’s on 21st street–a fixture during my stay in Tacoma in the 1970s and survivor of numerous fires. 

Okay. Tacoma is in volcano country, so what can you expect?  Let’s go to the Midwest. How about Chicago. . .in, oh. . 1979.  The snow drifted so high, driving down the street was like riding a luge.  Drifts fifteen feet high.  I remember the options: staying in the hotel to watch Mork and Mindy or going out for a Pepsi and a bag of chips.  I also remember walking up the railroad tracks to a ribs place in Oak Forest, IL because that was the only route that was relatively free of snow.

Okay, you might say, New Orleans has hurricanes, Chicago has blizzards, the West Coast has wind storms, lava and earthquakes–you’re talking about vulnerable places. How about the real America–safe from upset—be it geological, meteorological or political.  Some place like. . .Macon, Missouri.

Okay. Now, Macon, Missouri will work.  Not far from the one-time center of the U.S.  I played guitar at a dance there years ago.  Was a member of a short-lived band from Macon. An old girl friend lives there.  It  is in the middle of the bell curve, meteorologically speaking.  There has probably never been a blizzard there that deposited snow more than two feet in depth.

And, except for the occasional tornado—none of which have ever hit Macon—it’s a safe place to live. 

Except for that thing about two hundred miles southeast–in New Madrid, MO.  A few years ago my wife and I were guests at a party in Macon, Missouri.  It took place not long after some scientist (or psychic, I’m not sure which) predicted a catastrophic wave of energy emanating from New Madrid and destroying most of the surrounding area.  The party began on a low note and ended with the crowd singing hymns. 

Of course, the quake never happened—or at least, I don’t think it did.  My wife and I left immediately after the get-together and headed back to the safety of our hurricane-ravaged southern U.S.

But over the years, I’ve learned a few things about geography: Most of us don’t think it will happen where they live.  But even after it does–and it usually does—we still fail to cut anyone else slack for performing just as we did: believing that we’re bulletproof and we live in a place that’s safe.

Right now, New Orleans residents are struggling to get their homes back where they were even though they aren’t really sure if their lovely city will ever recover from the Katrina hit.  They hear influential congressmen say that New Orleans should be bulldozed, and that any money given to rebuild N.O. would be going down a rathole.

Sure the place is a mess.  But the same would be said for Tacoma if Mt. Rainier decided to pop—for Chicago if another Storm of the Century hit—and for Macon, MO (and all points south) if the New Madrid fault decided to snap. 

In many ways, the only thing differentiating the French Quarter from the Tacoma’s North Shore—or Macon, MO’s northside  is the nature of the threat. 

More later.