I guess we now know how people will react when the "Big One" hits. If what occurred following Tuesday's "Big Breeze" is any indication, we'll all grab video cameras and toss our family up on a pile of rubble and tell them to say "cheese."
"Now little Billy, this is your dad standing on what was left of Academy Square. And that's your uncle Glenn in the background tunneling under those concrete slabs," we'll tell our grandchildren 25 years later while watching home videos.When it comes, I think the "Big One" will be much more serious than Tuesday's storm. But the wind storm that ripped up Provo is about a close as this area has ever come to the "Big One." With the destruction that occurred it is amazing that no one was killed.
It's even more amazing that no one was killed or seriously injured following the storm, considering the fact that a good percentage of our local population forgot all the emergency advice they'd heard many times before. And many ignored the warnings given immediately after the storm.
Mind you, I'm not talking everyone. Most heeded the words of advice from public safety officials and stayed away from downed power lines and trees. But to some, the city became a big playground. To others, it was a time to live without order. At least I didn't see any looting. But this is what I did see.
I saw the whole town out driving around checking out the whole town. With traffic lights out, the heavy traffic made it much more difficult for police to keep traffic flowing. It also delayed the response time for emergency personnel and those scrambling to restore electricity.
I saw motorists driving through intersections with inoperable traffic signals like they were just granted the privilege to get home sooner than anyone else. Because of this perceived privilege, hundreds of near collisions occurred at every intersection throughout the city.
I think the driving manual I read says when traffic lights are out the intersection is to be treated like a four-way stop. You'd better read that section. Better yet, tell everyone you know and their dog to read that section. That way when the "Big One" hits, my behind-the-wheel language will be much cleaner than it was Tuesday afternoon.
With all the traffic lights out, milkmen, accountants and store clerks suddenly became traffic-control officers. Refer to the previous paragraph and you will see this duty of putting your life in jeopardy could be avoided.
This one is hard to believe, but it really happened. A Scout leader took his troop down to a park in central Provo and turned the kids loose on the downed trees. They climbed every limb they could find and posed for photos on top of every bush. That merits a badge to me.
And then there was the onslaught of "Eyewitness Video" hopefuls. They were everywhere - especially around the cemetery. For two days, traffic on South State Street was at a near standstill to accommodate the self-proclaimed media. One guy stood under a downed power line and aimed his camera upwards, not wanting to miss the chance to catch on film how close he came to death.
Maybe I'm being too critical of those who wanted a little video reminder of Provo history. I probably would have done the same if I owned a video camera. But I think it's important to remember that safety and order should take priority over curiosity following a disaster.
In this case, the curiosity and mayhem didn't result in much harm. But next time it could, and probably will. Let's not let the lesson to be learned from this storm blow over our heads.