Years ago, when people were worried about a technological breakdown at the turn of the century called the Y2K problem, a church member asked me, “What if it is true? What if the power grid goes completely down? What if all of our computers don’t work and everything that is run by computer fails? What are you going to do then?” I responded, “I’ll come to the church. We have large fireplace and plenty of firewood. There is a fair amount of food in the kitchen. We’ll open the doors and share what we have with whomever shows up and together we’ll figure out what to do.”

At the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic, someone asked me, “Have you got a stockpile of toilet paper? Everyone is going to run out.” I answered, “No. We have our usual supply. When that runs out, we have wash cloths and water to wash them. And someone is bound to remember that we buy toilet paper by the case at the church. There is a huge supply in the storeroom at the church. We may have to have a special council meeting to decide how to deal with that.”

I’m not much of a prepper. I don’t have a collection of survival gear. I’ve always believed that the most important resource we have in a time of trouble is the community. Our relationships are critical when tragedy strikes. Trust that has been built up over years can provide resources beyond any individual’s preparation.

To one of my friends who did stock up on toilet paper and who bragged about his huge supply, I teased, “Your supply will only last until your neighbors find out. I know you, Randy. You won’t be able to turn down your neighbor’s children when they come to your door begging for toilet paper.”

In the event of a real emergency, the resources of the community are far more important than individual resources.

There are a couple of things going on here in Whatcom County, Washington that remind me of the power of community. We’ve been experiencing another air quality alert as smoky skies make for dramatic sunrises and sunsets, but obscure the view of the islands in the bay and the mountains to the east. Record heat and dry conditions have left the forests tinder dry and fires have threatened homes in some areas. Wherever wildfire comes close, you will see signs of gratitude for the fire fighters who come to save lives and protect property. They endure hard work in risky conditions with short breaks and little sleep. I’ve always had a special feeling for first responders and I am especially grateful for fire fighters.

When I was a teenager working on my cousin’s and uncle’s farms, we knew that whenever we saw a smoke plume, we dropped whatever we were doing and headed towards the smoke to help. I had a shovel and a half barrel of water with soaked gunny sacks in it in the old pickup I drove to the field. On a couple of occasions, I fought wheat field stubble fires, usually set by someone pulling a vehicle with a hot muffler into stubble that was too tall. We’d form a line along the front of the fire and beat out flames with wet gunny sacks until the fire department, with their pumper trucks arrived. It was surprisingly effective when there were enough of us.

I believe in the power of community.

That doesn’t mean that I am cavalier about common sense preparations. I experienced enough blizzard-related power failures to have extra blankets on hand. When we lived in the Dakotas we had alternative heat sources. I have a portable propane buddy heater and enough gas to run it for several days. We have a pantry with enough food to keep us going for quite a while. I have a water filter for using water from alternative sources. And an overnight in the pickup truck when the starter failed and we were 8 miles from the nearest home means that I now have a dry sack with freeze-dried food, a portable cookstove, and a few other essentials ready to go each time we head to a remote location. Our sleeping bags travel in our car with us when we head out in the winter.

This week, however, we will have our first experience with a different type of preparations. On Thursday at 10:20 am (10:20 on 10/20), people around the world, especially those in earthquake prone areas, will participate in earthquake drills. Children in schools are taught to “Drop! Cover! and Hold On!” Here in coastal Whatcom County, the Tsunami sirens will wail and people who are out and about are supposed to practice tsunami evacuation. Our home is above the projected inundation line at the coast. That means that if there were an actual Tsunami, even a really big one such as happened in Asia in 2011, our neighborhood would be one of the safe places where our coastal neighbors would come. In the event of an actual earthquake, the warning would be available approximately 1 hour and 40 minutes before the wave reaches the shore. Waves would continue for up to six hours, so those who evacuate at the sound of the siren have to stay away from low-lying areas for quite a while. I assume that if we were home, we’d open our home so folks could use the bathroom. Maybe we’d make tea and offer some snacks. On October 20 we would have plenty of Halloween Candy on hand. Of course, people won’t be wandering our neighborhood in search of bathrooms in the event of a drill. I suspect that most folks would head to family members. A few would gather at the county park in our neighborhood where there are some facilities. It used to be an Air Force radar base, so there are secure buildings and space for a lot of cars.

This is our first Tsunami drill. We had not yet moved into this house and were staying in Mount Vernon at this time a year ago. We don’t know what to expect. I’ll be looking for signs of community and ways to help others should a real emergency occur.