What makes a disaster?
Dawn in DC: a blue grey hazy light filters down from the sky, just enough to illuminate the falling snow. I know that I'm not alone when it comes to being a bit tired of this snow. This is our sixth day in a row of being hemmed in. It's pretty profound, and the masses are starting to murmur with their frustration.
I'm astonished at how paralyzed the city is. It's really stunning. The federal government has been shut down every day this week, and according to the Office of Personal Management, it's costing $100 million a day in lost productivity. I was shocked to see that the Post Office didn't deliver mail at all on Saturday. What? The "Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor dead of night..." crew called in frozen?
The snow has been falling all night, and not even once did I wake up to the sound of plows scraping their way down the street. I don't get it: where are the snowplows? Walking over to Woodley Park yesterday to ease the cabin fever, the weather was fine (as it was Sunday and Monday), and yet the streets were ankle-deep in grey slush. The sidewalks were usually in better condition than the streets: individuals' efforts to improve their small stretch of the common space were effective. But the city's response to the snow has been quite lackluster, from my perspective. I'd be more sympathetic if I saw them out there working, but I haven't observed a single snowplow plowing. (To be fair: I did see one snowplow, blade in the air, spreading salt. Also, I've been spending most of my time indoors, but I can see and hear the road.)
Salt supplies are running low, says the rumor mill. I believe it. Patience is running low, too. I'm at least thankful that here in the city, we haven't lost power, unlike many of my friends, colleagues, and students out in the suburbs.
Yesterday, when I was reflecting on people's thinking about the storm, I mentioned Haiti. I'd like to bring that up again today, and explore it from a different angle. The earthquake in Haiti was horrible and devastating, but it was (a) predicted, and (b) the equivalent of a large-magnitude earthquake that could occur elsewhere, like the Pacific Northwest or California. Yet it was really, really bad in Haiti, while the same magnitude quake, at the same depth, the same distance from San Francisco wouldn't be nearly as destructive. Why? Simple: the people of San Francisco are more prepared for earthquakes. A nation as rich as the United States, and a state as (formerly) wealthy as California, has the power to study earthquakes and their causes, to pass laws requiring buildings to be structurally capable of standing up to serious shaking, and the power to enforce those laws. Haiti's populaiton isn't so lucky: their unreinforced masonry buildings collapse readily when they get sheared; people die as a result.
Which brings me back to DC. While it's no Port-au-Prince, it's a big freaking mess that's not getting cleaned up anytime soon. This same snowstorm could hit Minnesota or South Dakota or Anchorage and I don't think anyone would really bat an eye. When I lived in Homer, Alaska, storms like this seemed to come around once a month or so. The difference was that people there had four-wheel-drive (and knew what that meant, unlike some of my SUV-driving neighbors inside the Beltway), studded tires, experience driving in snow, and a prepared attitude. The weather was the same; we just dealt with it better up there. Many private trucks had plows on front, and it was seen as a civic duty to plow out the road if you were the first one to drive down it after a storm*.
The culture of the DC area is as unprepared to deal with snow as Homer would be to deal with 100 degree F heat and 100% humidity. DC deals with mugginess like that every summer, though, so though it's a pain, it's not a catastrophe. Each area develops precautions and procedures based on the variations that nature typically throws its way. We make predictions based on the past. When something novel arrives, chaos breaks out, official services get disrupted, and it's up to the individual citizens to clean up the mess and look after one another.
Nature doesn't make disasters, in other words. We do.
____________________________________
* One time in Homer, I drove my pickup truck (which did not have a plow) down the road after about 2 feet of snow had fallen. I was the first one there, and I just charged on through. After I had gone about half a mile, my engine died. Surprised, I got out and shuffled forward to pop the hood. The entire engine block was surrounded by snow! As I was driving forward, there was nowhere for the snow to go except into the airy interstices under the hood. There was so much snow that the engine's air intake was blocked. I cleared it out (poking it with an ice axe I kept in the car) and started the engine up again, no problem. Then I drove on to work.
PS - Here's a gallery of images from the Washington Post.
I'm astonished at how paralyzed the city is. It's really stunning. The federal government has been shut down every day this week, and according to the Office of Personal Management, it's costing $100 million a day in lost productivity. I was shocked to see that the Post Office didn't deliver mail at all on Saturday. What? The "Neither rain nor sleet nor snow nor dead of night..." crew called in frozen?
The snow has been falling all night, and not even once did I wake up to the sound of plows scraping their way down the street. I don't get it: where are the snowplows? Walking over to Woodley Park yesterday to ease the cabin fever, the weather was fine (as it was Sunday and Monday), and yet the streets were ankle-deep in grey slush. The sidewalks were usually in better condition than the streets: individuals' efforts to improve their small stretch of the common space were effective. But the city's response to the snow has been quite lackluster, from my perspective. I'd be more sympathetic if I saw them out there working, but I haven't observed a single snowplow plowing. (To be fair: I did see one snowplow, blade in the air, spreading salt. Also, I've been spending most of my time indoors, but I can see and hear the road.)
Salt supplies are running low, says the rumor mill. I believe it. Patience is running low, too. I'm at least thankful that here in the city, we haven't lost power, unlike many of my friends, colleagues, and students out in the suburbs.
Yesterday, when I was reflecting on people's thinking about the storm, I mentioned Haiti. I'd like to bring that up again today, and explore it from a different angle. The earthquake in Haiti was horrible and devastating, but it was (a) predicted, and (b) the equivalent of a large-magnitude earthquake that could occur elsewhere, like the Pacific Northwest or California. Yet it was really, really bad in Haiti, while the same magnitude quake, at the same depth, the same distance from San Francisco wouldn't be nearly as destructive. Why? Simple: the people of San Francisco are more prepared for earthquakes. A nation as rich as the United States, and a state as (formerly) wealthy as California, has the power to study earthquakes and their causes, to pass laws requiring buildings to be structurally capable of standing up to serious shaking, and the power to enforce those laws. Haiti's populaiton isn't so lucky: their unreinforced masonry buildings collapse readily when they get sheared; people die as a result.
Which brings me back to DC. While it's no Port-au-Prince, it's a big freaking mess that's not getting cleaned up anytime soon. This same snowstorm could hit Minnesota or South Dakota or Anchorage and I don't think anyone would really bat an eye. When I lived in Homer, Alaska, storms like this seemed to come around once a month or so. The difference was that people there had four-wheel-drive (and knew what that meant, unlike some of my SUV-driving neighbors inside the Beltway), studded tires, experience driving in snow, and a prepared attitude. The weather was the same; we just dealt with it better up there. Many private trucks had plows on front, and it was seen as a civic duty to plow out the road if you were the first one to drive down it after a storm*.
The culture of the DC area is as unprepared to deal with snow as Homer would be to deal with 100 degree F heat and 100% humidity. DC deals with mugginess like that every summer, though, so though it's a pain, it's not a catastrophe. Each area develops precautions and procedures based on the variations that nature typically throws its way. We make predictions based on the past. When something novel arrives, chaos breaks out, official services get disrupted, and it's up to the individual citizens to clean up the mess and look after one another.
Nature doesn't make disasters, in other words. We do.
____________________________________
* One time in Homer, I drove my pickup truck (which did not have a plow) down the road after about 2 feet of snow had fallen. I was the first one there, and I just charged on through. After I had gone about half a mile, my engine died. Surprised, I got out and shuffled forward to pop the hood. The entire engine block was surrounded by snow! As I was driving forward, there was nowhere for the snow to go except into the airy interstices under the hood. There was so much snow that the engine's air intake was blocked. I cleared it out (poking it with an ice axe I kept in the car) and started the engine up again, no problem. Then I drove on to work.
PS - Here's a gallery of images from the Washington Post.
Labels: alaska, dc, earthquakes, haiti, snow
10 Comments:
Funny you mention South Dakota, as the Indian reservations there have been devastated by ice storms and blizzards over the last two week, and the economic resources are not available to deal with the resulting problems:
http://www.sdpb.org/radio/shows.aspx?MediaID=57747&Parmtype=RADIO&ParmAccessLevel=sdpb-all
Excellent point. So I guess I would put SD's Indian reservations somewhere on the spectrum of "Being Able to Deal with Snow" between end-members Minneapolis (good) and Miami (bad), with D.C. having more money but less experience, and Dakotan Indians having more experience but less money.
This just in: the post office won't be delivering mail today, either! ...This is unprecedented in my experience.
Speaking of Indian reservations - the same storm that shut down DC hit the Navajo reservation hard. It also doesn't tend to get a lot of snow, and people are very spread out, so a lot of people are completely cut off. (And the livestock - mostly sheep - are also cut off from food.)
But yes - it's very true that a disaster is what you're not prepared for. Farms on the Great Plains would experience a disaster if they had to live with as little water as the Navajo reservation has. (And when I lived in Vermont, the worst disaster was an ice storm. The trees were adapted to snow, and we had plenty of snow plows per capita, but the ice tore off limbs and knocked down powerlines across much of northern New England and the St. Lawrence valley in Canada.)
Here in eastern Nevada, the only reason our small street gets plowed ever is so the mail-lady can deliver the mail, which she almost always does, even after a major dump - except for maybe one day this year when no one could get up to our street or get out. (Two feet of snow overnight.)
Places like Anchorage actually plow the sidewalks so people can go jogging at 20 below! And they spend a lot of time and effort hauling snow to dumping areas when the streets get full. DC just doesn't have the equipment; if it keeps up, maybe they should get more. When I lived there, our street was one of the last to get plowed (if at all), so when the main streets finally got it, we'd have to walk out. Long way to the grocery store!
I think very few places deal with bad ice storms very well. Lines go down, electricty goes out.
Mouse just went out - have to reboot.
...where are the snowplows?
At Wegmans. On a trip over there Sunday, I found the parking lot to be spotless, ridiculously spotless. I think the snowplows go to the highest bidder. I have no real ideas about the snowplow market or how they do their business but I do know that the storm interrupted my mail delivery but not my supply of Ben and Jerry's.
Great post Callan. I grew up in Wisconsin, and while this type of snow may slow you down for a day, by the next day, everything would have been cleared. People know to park on opposite sides of the street so plows can work their way down one side and the next night down the other. And they have all the gear and experience to just work right through it. If you haven't already, check out this story about NOAA's new categorization of snow storms, which takes into account how well-prepared a city/region is for such a storm: http://www.earthmagazine.com/earth/article/306-7da-2-4
Hey Callan -- the ONLY snow plows (plural) I've seen or heard were at the National Zoo last night, I'm guessing somewhere between 8 and 9ish. Nada since then.
-Cathy (aka your former neighbor on Adams Mill)
It was under 0.4 miles one way from the first house we lived in back there (No. VA) to the grocery store, and a bit more than a mile one way from the second house. I know we walked through the drifts from the early-mid-60's storm to get food while at the first house. Doubt if we had a snowstorm like that while at the second house.
I live in Victoria, BC (Up by Vancouver, home of the 2010 Winter Olympics). This year, some bananas grew on a tree in a city park(mind you the tree was indoors from about November to April)...and not to brag too much, but the flowers are up and blooming already. No wonder we don't have any snow for the gosh-darned Olympics!!
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