In light of recent natural disasters—the tornadoes in the South, the earthquake in Tokyo, etc.—I’ve thought a bit about what I’d do if a natural disaster occurred here. (I might as well be prepared. There’s supposed to be a flood coming . . . well, any day, really. Kinda like the earthquake we’re due for. Except we have a better idea of when the flood will come.)
Well, since it’s true that “if ye are prepared, ye shall not fear,” here’s what I plan on doing if some big ol’ nasty natural disasters strike BYU:
Possibility: Very likely. Problem is, it could happen tomorrow, it could happen in five hundred years . . . I just don’t know.
Game plan: Find a table to cower under. After I stop screaming, grab my 72-hour-kit (yay!), and head off to the RB with my roommate to raid the RYCL equipment room (it’s okay, we’ll return the stuff we take. Besides, my roommate works there so I’d just check the stuff out from her anyway.). Hike back to my house. This plan would work especially well in the spring or summer. So please, earthquake. No winter strikes.
Game plan B: To be honest, earthquakes terrify me. The shaking, the crashing, the aftershocks, the fires . . . yeah, not a fan. So, I have always secretly hoped that I’ll be in Kansas or Massachusetts (at either of my grandmas’ houses) when the “big one” strikes. But you never know. In a perfect storm scenario, the day the earthquake hits the Wasatch Front would also be the day when a monster tornado decides to sweep through Eastern Kansas, and the day Boston decides to fall into the sea. Pick your poison, I guess.
Possibility: Again, very likely . . . especially for Salt Lake and Utah Valleys this year. However, I’m not too worried about BYU campus flooding. Or my apartment, for that matter. I live on the 3rd floor.
Game Plan: Eh . . . if worse comes to worse, I’ll roll up my jeans and place some sandbags. And eat things from my 72-hour-kit.
Possibility: You never know. With crazy spring weather, anything can happen.
Game Plan: Bad news—there are no tornado sirens here (imagine that). Good news—there is a cellar in my apartment complex I’ll hunker down there and hope that I don’t get carried off to Oz. Or my 72-hour-kit, for that matter. I don’t want the flying monkeys to eat my granola bars.
Possibility: Not even.
Game Plan: . . .
Possibility: Again, not gonna happen. Although, you never know. If Utah Lake decides to get a little rowdy one day . . .
Game Plan: Pray. Super hard. And hang onto my 72-hour-kit.
Possibility: Could happen. But if it’s anything like the blizzard of 2010, I’m not going to worry.
Game Plan: Survive on my 72-hour-kit and canned goods in the pantry. Cover myself in blankets and every sweater I can find. Try to act like this woman:
|See that woman? She is tough.|
There you have it. My (somewhat sarcastic) preparation for natural disasters.
There are two morals of the story here:
1. I’ve decided that my 72-hour-kit is awesome and will help me survive almost anything.
2. Frankly, you probably don’t want to be with me when a natural disaster strikes. So, good for all of you, bad for me. I kinda have to live with myself. 24/7.
Out of curiosity, what natural disaster scares you the most?