Earthquakes and families

There are some people who are crazy, then, there are some who are REALLY crazy and then there are those you call your friends.

I have a friend here at the Pilot who is nuts about earthquakes. I don’t say that to mean she’s crazy, she just has this interest in earthquakes that is no passing fancy.

Recently she sent me a link to a news article detailing the danger that Oregonians and Washingtonians could find themselves in if (excuse me) WHEN a major earthquake hits the area.

I found the research behind the theories to be very interesting, with plate tectonics, subduction zones and inter-continental friction bringing out the geek in me.

My problem doesn’t lie in a seemingly abnormal interest in earthquakes or even in the earthquakes themselves. My problem lies in the fact that most people are not prepared for the eventuality of a major disaster hitting our area.

Ask yourself if you have enough food that you could feed yourself and your family for three days without having access to supermarkets.

If you find yourself lacking, go, get yourself set with enough food and water to tide you over for three full days.

The other key to having that supply handy is being able to eat what is in the kit, so don’t forget a can opener or any other implements that you might need to cook and eat the food you have packed.

Last but certainly not least, don’t forget to eat that food every now and then. If you don’t eat it and replace it occasionally, it will be bad when you need it.

The questions is no longer if a major disaster will hit Brookings just simply when.

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By the time this column hits the streets, I will be starting my third day of family reunion activities with my in-laws.

Some people might groan in sympathy, remembering time spent with their spouse’s family – but don’t.

I love my in-laws! I’m not just saying that because they live in Brookings and take the paper, either. I truly enjoy their company.

Many might find it a punishment to live in the same town as their mother and father-in-law but my wife has been blessed to have an angel for a mother who treats me like one of her own.

My father-in-law, while no angel, is married to a sweet person who balances his devilish tendencies with quiet words of love and encouragement and is a fount of knowledge on many things. (If you get a chance, ask him what are the best “50 ways to hit an animal at highway speeds.”)

We try to have a reunion every year and, with my wife’s siblings traveling from as far away as Washington D.C. and Baton Rouge, La., it is great to be able to catch up with beloved sisters and brothers we don’t see very often.

One of the joys of the reunion is that we are staying at Camp Lane just outside of Walton. It is a state-owned camp with an industrial kitchen and plenty of places for more than 30 people to sleep in relative comfort.

There are none of the trappings of modern civilization such as cell phones, televisions and work. It is nice to get away from it all.

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The inventor of “tides” was named Bob and he lived on the top of a mountain.