emse232

Institute for Crisis, Disaster, and Risk Management

Crisis and Emergency Management

February 2005 Volume 8 - Number 1

Perspectives...

Remembering Disasters

By Rachel Tardiff

For some strange reason, with most of the disasters I have been exposed to, I seem to be able to give a relatively clear picture of where I was when I experienced it (heard or encountered it first-hand) and the emotions I felt at that moment, regardless of how long ago it occurred. Some of these large-scale events that I vividly recall include: the Challenger Shuttle explosion; the first footage of the Oklahoma City bombing; the morning news report that the sniper had already shot five people in the Metro Washington, D.C. area; pictures of Hurricane Ivan’s destruction; and smoke rising from the Pentagon as I watched from my front porch on September 11, 2001.

The most recent natural disaster in the Indian Ocean countries also has left another indelible mark in my memory, which will be clearly stored in my stockpile of disaster exposures. I learned of this particular disaster while sitting at my office computer the morning of December 27, checking a news website for the day’s headlines. I caught my first glimpse of what has proven to be a truly catastrophic event. I recall thinking that this was going to be much more disastrous than the early reports had suggested, and I was horrified and saddened at how quickly life was taken from these unsuspecting victims. I remember becoming intensely interested in how this event (and the magnitude of its destruction) could happen. I learned a bit about earthquakes and tsunamis in a college marine biology class, and I struggled to grasp what no textbook can convey: comprehension of the sheer magnitude of the movement of earth’s enormous tectonic plates, followed by the subsequent creation of an extremely destructive tsunami. The scientist in me attempted to visualize the rapid displacement of an unimaginable quantity of water from an undersea earthquake, what a wave traveling at airplane speed across the open ocean looked like; how this wave hit the continental shelf, towered three stories high, thrusting billions of gallons of seawater to the coast in a matter of moments. What must it have been like standing on the beach? How could the sight of the tide drawing out the distance of a football field not alarm people, but rather gather them in closer to see what was happening? Would you start to run when you saw this shockingly large wall of water coming towards you even though it was probably too late to get out of harm’s way?

I read plenty of articles describing the disaster, as I attempted to reconcile how, scientifically, I could grasp the occurrence of this natural disaster, and to try and deal with (emotionally) the sadness surrounding this event and the experience for those who had fallen victim to it. I viewed endless pictures and videos, hoping to see what actually happened, rather than rely on what I had imagined a tsunami would look like. As most disasters are covered ad nauseum by the news, we are used to witnessing the event from the safety of our home or office, although the event and information surrounding it still has shock value. Sometimes, more information (to a degree) allows us to better comprehend the disaster and determine how to cognitively deal with our reactions to it. As I continued to search for answers, it became apparent that I would be able to review the laws of physics and basic science to understand how the tsunami was created and behaved, but, as with most other disasters, I will not be able to understand that which I am most curious about: what is the long-term impact on the survivors, and what would I have done in the same situation?