OPINION: The worst natural disasters

The hurricane situation in the southeast prompted me to reflect about the various disasters I’ve been in, which ones are worst, and the best place to live to avoid them. My thoughts have been sharpened by the fact that, were I still in the Florida house I lived in right now, I’d be under evacuation orders.

My own thought, for what it’s worth: An earthquake is the worst, and, to be honest, I’m pretty good right here.

I’ve lived through floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, ice storms, blizzards, hurricanes and a day that hit 122. Lightning once hit the ground a few yards away when I was stupid enough to be out jogging around a park in Kansas City. I’ve lived in California, Florida, Massachusetts and Arizona. I made it through a week without electricity in Manhattan. I had a foot and a half of water on the ground floor once in a house by Lake Elbo.

Floods are awful because they linger for a long time. Tornadoes are terrifying because of the raw destructive power and because they can take an unpredictable route. A hurricane can bring both of those things, plus a storm surge and sustained wind that can blow down your house.

They’re all bad, which is why they’re called disasters. I’m empathetic to the people in North Carolina dealing with the aftermath of one hurricane, and some of my friends around Tampa Bay facing down the next one, which seems like a monster.

Hurricanes, though, take days to develop, and the forecasters can tell you if you ought to get out. Whether you do is up to you, but at least you have a shot. Tornadoes? Less warning but usually some, and the path of destruction is relatively narrow. I’ve seen them go by, but I’ve never been directly in the path, so I guess I can’t speak to that.

An earthquake can level an entire city, and the thing about it is that it comes on without a warning. All of a sudden the ground feels like liquid, and there’s not really a damn thing you can do about it. Go to the basement? That could just bury you under more building. It’s very, very unnerving. You can go around for weeks, months or years sorta freaked out, wondering when the next one is coming. Or The Big One. My sense is that this is part of why Californians are so nutty.

In Manhattan, we’re not going to get a hurricane, and while we can get tremors from the fault out near the lake, we’re unlikely to get The Big One. We could flood in certain parts of town, and we’re clearly subject to tornadoes — although not as many as Texas, Oklahoma or Arkansas, the Wizard of Oz be damned. We can freeze or broil.

I think, statistically, that you’d be safer in Michigan or Minnesota or something. I like it up there in August, but not sure if the tradeoff is worth it in, say, February.

Nope, I’ll take the risks right here, thank you.