Unnatural Disasters

At 4:31 AM, on January 17, 1994, I thought my life was going to end.

I happened to be awake to hear the sound of death roar up out of the ground, and then violently shake me and my house and everything in it.

Learned California behavior made me slide down in the doorway that separates the bathroom from the bedroom. My heart was beating so fast that I can’t describe it; and I had an adrenaline aided superhuman sense of sound and smell and even sight, though it was pitch dark.

For quite a long time after that Northridge Earthquake, the slightest tremor would put me into a doorway or under my desk. A bus passing outside the office, rattling the windows, would get major attention, and my heart would rev up a bit in anticipation of the worst. It took a long time for me to get back to some semblance of normal.

Living in fear is no way to live.

 

I grew up in Florida and now I live in Southern California. Out of the frying pan into the fire. Or, out of the torrential rains and holocaustal winds of hurricanes, into the titanic shifting of tectonic plates that create the earthquakes that can, differently but equally, destroy property and take lives.

While those two phenomenon are parallel in the havoc they can wreak, there is one substantial difference. Hurricanes develop and move slowly, and there is time to prepare and even to evacuate, saving lives, and limiting property damage. But earthquakes are sudden and unpredictable. They come without warning. Although we can build safer houses, we must then hope to be in the right place, when and if the wrong time comes.

Over this past few weeks, as I follow the news of the almost daily trail of carnage left by the "sniper," I keep remembering that earthquake, the one I survived.

My mind keeps equating current life in Maryland, Virginia, and Washington with the idea that the "sniper" can send a life-ending bullet even faster than the shaking that erupts from the depths of the earth. I realize that people are living much the way I did for a long time after the Big Quake, heads swiveling like permanent sentries, senses on high alert at all times, with potential terror as a constant companion.

The "sniper" creates and defines terror in an unnatural way, while earthquakes, hurricanes and other maelstroms are the products of nature itself.

It is our nature as humans to be loving and lovable, trusting and trust-able. But terror overrides trust. As with the fear of flying, once we are scared to the core, we have a hard time relaxing.

In the past thirteen months, terrorists have created death and destruction. Some of us have been more directly impacted than others. But all of us have been affected by the compounding intangible losses; loss of trust, loss of safety, loss of control, and loss of innocence.

There are many tangible losses that we must learn to deal with as we make our way through life. The death of loved ones, divorces, and other unsettling events are very painful. But the intangible losses are equally distressing and in some ways more difficult to comprehend. The losses of safety, trust, control and innocence are the evil step-children of the attacks of September 11, and now the "sniper."

There is no easy way to help people deal with those intangible losses. At best we must all remember not to negate or minimize the legitimate fears expressed by our children, our friends, our families, as we all grapple to understand and cope with things that make no sense at all.


Russell Friedman and John W. James
Grief Recovery Institute Educational Foundation
Sherman Oaks, CA

John W. James and Russell Friedman head the non-profit Grief Recovery Institute Educational Foundation in Sherman Oaks, CA. The Institute and thousands of affiliates throughout the United States and Canada offer a variety of programs for grievers. Additional information is available by calling 888-773-2683 or on the web at www.grief.net