What makes a disaster?
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.
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* 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













