Janice said, “Back to preserving our food that we have in the freezer. How’s that going to work?”
“Well,” Dad said, “You’re welcome to come up when we do it and give us a hand, and learn the process. I didn’t open any freezers yet, and it’s really hot. I don’t know how long it will stay cold or frozen. I don’t know how yours are. I know it won’t be tomorrow; tomorrow’s Sunday, a day of rest.”
“You’re not going to work tomorrow?” Norm asked.
“Not on Sunday,” Mom answered.
“Oh sure,” Jake said, “we’ll carrying water in. We’ll keep the fire going. We’ll feed the animals and feed ourselves. And do the dishes. There’ll be enough work even though we aren’t doing any.”
“Well, that’s something,” Hallie said.
“That’s the way it has to be,” Mom said. “God got us this far and He asks little in return, but one of the things He asks is keep the Sabbath Holy. We’re probably in enough trouble already without having Him mad at us.”
“Now Mom,” Dad said, “It’s not that He’d be mad at us. He knows the trouble we’re in and He knows how weak we are but in Him is our strength. He deserves to be honored tomorrow and every Sunday. Actually, every day.
“I suppose that’s true,” Marie said.
“Poor choice of words on my part,” Mom said. “But you’re still welcome tomorrow to come up for water if you need it or anything else you might need, even if you want some fresh vegetables.”
“Yeah,” Mel said, “take some of that zucchini. It certainly isn’t my favorite, especially when they mix it with tomatoes.”
That’s the way Mom liked it, but not the rest of us.
Dad continued, “If you are coming around tomorrow, I guess most of us aren’t going to use any gas to go to church, a church without electricity. I’d be willing to have a little service for you.”
“Well, that would be nice,” Norm said.
Marie chimed in, “We could have it at our house, if you’d like. Our pool is still filled. Chlorine is up to snuff. Haven’t been able to run the circulator, but the water is still pretty clean for how hot it’s been. After a little worship, we could cool off a little bit.”
I thought it was a great idea. I often went up and swam in Marie’s pool.
“Look out,” said Mel, “Give Dad a pulpit and a pool and it’s liable to bring on a baptism.”
“Well you never know,” Dad responded.
“That’s real nice of you,” Mom offered, ignoring Mel and Dad, “What time do you think we could get together?”
Now time was an interesting subject. One of the first things Dad had done was take the batteries out of the clocks to save them for flashlights or whatever. He had his wristwatch. Josh had one and Jake. I also noted most of the neighbors had one. But here of late, when the sun got up, so did we; time wasn’t that important, but Dad still had an answer.
“I guess we don’t want to wait until it is too hot or that it’s too cold to take a dip in the pool afterwards, so I guess midmorning, 10:00 or 10:30. We don’t want to start too late; it’s going to rain by tomorrow evening.”
“How do you know that?” Jim asked.
“See those little wispy clouds? My grandfather always said when you see those you’d have rain by the next evening. He had to know that kind of stuff. When he started farming they had no radio, TV or Accu-Weather forecasts. Turns out my meteorology professor in college, justifying my grandfather, said the same thing. He told us that those wispy clouds are the leading edge of a cold front. Therefore my forecast is for cooler, dryer air on Monday.”
“Or maybe hot and sticky?” Mel said.
“OK, maybe hot and sticky. But either way tomorrow will still start out hot. So we’ll meet up at Marie and Bill’s then?”
“Sure,” Norm said. And the others agreed.
Marie added, “I’ll have some food for us, too. Some of these fresh tomatoes and some other things just the two of us will have trouble eating before they spoil.”
So the neighbors left and we continued with our chores. Just a few moments later, another pickup came down the road. It was one of Jake’s friends, Tom. He had his girlfriend along, Louisa, and his parents, AnnMarie and Jeff. Jeff’s parents lived on a farm one valley over. Jeff’s family had come out from town to stay with his parents and care for them. The farm had spring water, too, so they were doing all right.
Jeff said, “We thought we’d stop in to see how you were doing and if there’s anything we could do for you.”
Dad said, “Well, we do have a big chore today yet if Tom and you would be willing to help.”
“What’s that? Tom asked.
“Jake and Josh are going out to fetch mother’s parents here. They live a mile or two out of town. They have no water of their own. Fortunately, there’s a Mennonite farm next to them that has a windmill and last we talked to them, they were able to get fresh water to drink. But in earlier communications with them, it was decided that they’d be coming here. We were going to go out with the pickup and load up all the goods that we felt we could use and bring them here this afternoon. So, if Tom would want to go with his pickup too, it would be a big help.”
“Sounds good,” Tom said. “Are you going to go along, Pop?”
“Sure,” Jeff answered. “Are they expecting us?”
“Yeah, they’re expecting us,” Dad answered.
Jeff asked, “So they know what we’re supposed to bring back?”
Dad said, “I have a list all prepared. It’s on the pickup seat.” Jake went and got the list. Here’s what it looked like:
Their car and truck.
All and any medical supplies like alcohol, witch hazel, prescriptions.
Canned food. Packaged food that doesn’t need refrigeration.
Soda, beer, and liquor.
Containers, especially those with lids.
Cleaning supplies, personal hygiene items, any old eyeglasses.
Hand tools: carpenter, plumbing, food prep, knives, and gardening.
Any liquid fuel, if it can be safely transported.
Guns and ammo. Any seeds.
Coinage, gold, silver, precious gems.
Bedding, mattresses, towels and washcloths.
Toilet paper, paper towels.
Batteries, flashlights, candles, lanterns, matches.
Shoes, socks, underwear.
Bicycles, Grandpop’s moped.
Bring a few eating utensils, plates, bowls, and large cooking pots.
Any self-help books, especially medical ones.
The family Bible, stationary, pens, scotch tape.
Jeff responded, “That’s a neat list. I think when we’re done with your in-laws, we’re going to back to our house in town and make sure we have a lot of these things to bring out to the farm.”
“You’re welcome to do that,” Dad said. “Here are a couple of things I wouldn’t worry about bringing. Electrical appliances unless he has a generator - that might come in handy one day or any two-way radios or any 12-volt items, like an air pump. If he has a 12-volt air pump, that might really come in useful. Most books and magazines you can leave there. Records, tapes, DVDs are no use. Dress clothing isn’t really going to be needed with the exception of bring the shoes that they have. We don’t know when we will be able to buy shoes again. And forget the furniture. But there are two exceptions. Try and get every table they have on the truck and if you have room, a couple of chairs.”
Jake said, “I’ll get the two-way radios, Dad. They are charged up and we can stay in a little bit of contact if Grandpop has any questions.”
“That’s a good idea,” Dad said. “I’ll turn mine on about twenty minutes after you leave here, and then you can get in contact with me if you need to.
Listen, Jeff, you’ve been around a little bit the last day or two. How are you finding things?”
“Haven’t really seen anything too bad yet, Jeff answered. People are a little anxious. Didn’t really see any looting at all, but people are on edge.”
“Do you have a weapon with you?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, I got a loaded one behind the truck seat,” Tom said.
“Jake,” Dad said, “You best get one too, load it up and keep it behind the seat. Follow Jeff’s lead, but it’s only for last resort measures.”
“I understand, Dad,” Jake said.
“And another thing,” Dad said, “Before you leave, use the pickup, pull the hay wagon out of the barn and park it near the back door. That way, we can just back the trucks in the barn when you come back and we don’t need to unload everything tonight. Put the food on Tom’s truck and we’ll make sure we get that one unloaded.”
“Okay, Dad,” Jake said, “but why do you want the wagon near the back door?”
“Oh,” Dad said, “we might have to throw some things out of the house to make room for what we’re bringing from your grandparents.”
“Okay, Dad. Well, let’s get rolling.”
As they went down the road, we got back to our work. Mom and Mel took over with the jar cleaning; that was coming along pretty well. Louisa and I were given a job by Dad.
He said, “Go out in the shed and gather up all the storm window panes that I have and the screens. There’s a few above the chicken house also, if you could work them out please. Bring them to the butcher house. We want to clean them up. There might be one or two in the cellar also.”
“What do you want those for Dad,” I asked.
“We’re going to make a drying bed. They need to be nice and clean. You’ll see how it works on Monday.”
So we started gathering and Dad started getting some wood together. He put it in a nice flat sunny spot and made a frame, like a grid work, that the screens could be placed on without falling through. Then he took narrow boards, about an inch and a half high and laid them on top of the screens. He put the panes on top of that. He said the sunlight will come through the glass and dry the fruit that we’d spread out on the screens. We weren’t going to do that until Monday, but we needed to be ready. Finally, we covered the drying beds with blankets to keep animal litter off.
As evening approached, Tom, Jeff, the boys, and my grandparents arrived. There had been no trouble, nothing unusual. We unloaded Tom’s truck, put the coolers in the ground cellar, a couple of mattresses in the cellar. The other trucks could wait until Monday. Tom and his family were anxious to leave and get back to their family. We bid them well and mentioned about the church service at Marie and Bill’s.
As we wrapped up the chores, Mom and my grandmother laid out a supper for us. We didn’t need anything hot, just lunched on the food from Grandpop’s refrigerator. He even had some ring bologna that had kept.
“Eat it up,” Dad said, “Might not have anything like this for some time.”
“Alyssa,” Jake said, “Over in the blue cooler is something for you. Help yourself.”
I opened the cooler and found a little ice cream that had been left in Grandma’s freezer. He had put all the ice in that cooler to try to keep it frozen. It was pretty well melted, but still tasted great. I shared a spoonful with those that wanted some and said, “I guess this is the last time we’ll have this for a while, too.”
As the sun went down, everyone was tired enough to sleep. Grandma and Grandpop slept in my room, so their mattresses in the cellar were for us kids to sleep. It was much cooler down there. Jake had set a couple of buckets of water around, then right before we turned in, he threw a bucket of water all over the cement floor part of the cellar. That made it even cooler. Jake said a prayer for all of us and as I fell asleep, I just wondered what tomorrow would bring.
To be continued… Chapter Five - next week, Happy New Year, Mort
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
CHAPTER FOUR - NEIGHBORS
CHAPTER FOUR – NEIGHBORS
The lights didn’t go out without a warning. Jake and Josh had stopped working. Their employers couldn’t pay them any more. Dad had stopped going to his job. His clients had no money. A couple of weeks before the lights went out, the gas stations closed. Up until that time, Dad had made sure that all our gas tanks were full, just so we had some fuel when the flow stopped. We spent the money that he had, knowing it wasn’t going to be useful to keep it. Fortunately, businesses accepted it until they had nothing else to sell. Some of the things Dad bought were two gallons of vinegar, some canned food, a couple of bags of chicken feed, seeds for the next year’s planting, some cleaning supplies, some medical supplies, and candles.
It didn’t take long for the grocery stores to empty and then most of the other stores closed up also. There was no transportation. With all the fuel that was available diverted to the military, providing for their needs and their food, there was no longer enough fuel to supply the rest of the country. No trucks to bring products in. So the shelves got empty and the stores closed.
Things were actually fairly peaceful around home. Contact was lost. There was no radio. No TV or phone. The government was still broadcasting. The only way we could hear it was using a car radio for short spells. The president’s message, broadcast occasionally, was that we were supposed to prepare for the worst. He didn’t pull any punches. He warned us that winter was only three to four months away. He reminded us that we had to help each other to survive, that he was engaged in protecting our country from outside forces and would not be able to help us at the domestic level. With no radio or TV, we also had no weather forecast. We didn’t really need one. The next day was very hot. Didn’t know what was coming later but we dealt with it one day at a time.
We knew with no electricity the freezers may not be opened. The longer you could keep the doors closed, the longer the food would keep. It gave us time to prepare. The refrigerators, on the other hand, started to warm up quicker. So we took all the food out of them, put it in coolers, and carried it into the ground cellar where we kept our eggs and where it was only around 55 degrees.
Our meals for the first couple of days were everything out of the coolers that had been in the refrigerator; things we knew would spoil the quickest. We opened no cans, used hardly any food that was still packaged. Opened loaves of bread, rolls or pastry were used, but even those if sealed up well would last pretty long, longer than some of the foods from the refrigerator.
It didn’t take long, we had visitors. We had running water, not ground water, however. Our farm had a water collection tank fed by tile lines that drained the fields around it and we had a line running from that tank to the barn that ran continuously. The water was fairly cool and clean but always had the possibility of contamination from manure or pesticides because the water was gathered so close to the surface. Over the years, we avoided drinking it for that reason but occasionally we did and it hadn’t had any ill effects.
That made no difference to the neighbors who came as they had no water. Yes, they were using their bottled water, soda, beer, and juice. They could drink those things but it was not an unlimited supply. So, they came with buckets and jugs and we shared our water with them, advising them to perhaps add a little Clorox, hydrogen peroxide or water purification tablets to the water that they were going to drink or boil it if they had a wood stove or an outside fireplace. It was fine to use to flush the toilets and even for washing, bathing or laundry. Marie and Bill from up the street came down for water, used a toy express wagon to bring their jugs and buckets. That was very ingenious. Jim and Hallie from down the road came up to get some water, carrying a few jugs. Norm and Janice came with them too with a couple of their kids to help carry everything. They noticed we were pretty busy.
Marie said, “You got fire going in the butcher house.”
“Certainly do,” Dad said, “we have a lot of food to preserve.”
“How do you mean?” Bill asked.
“Well what’s in the freezers won’t keep forever, so in a day or two, we’re going to open up and can or dry what we can’t eat.”
“Maybe that’s what we’ll have to do?” Hallie said to her husband Jim, “If I remember how to do it.”
Mom and I were busy gathering jars. Any place we could find a jar that could have a sealed lid. Josh was tending the fire. The stove had a nice broad flat plate on top. There was probably room for 5 or 6 big kettles on it. He and Mel were heating water and washing the jars, getting them nice and clean so that they would be ready.
Dad said to the neighbors, “We can cook on that fire too.”
Norm said, “We’ve been cooking on the propane grill.”
Jake jumped in, “But your propane is only going to last so long.”
“I’m aware of that,” Norm answered. “There’s enough wood lying around. I guess I’m going to have to switch to a wood fire sometime, make some sort of fireplace outside.”
“You can always use a grate from the refrigerator or freezer, if it’s not made of plastic; even better the grate from a gas grill,” Josh offered.
“Yes, I suppose that would be handy,” Norm responded.
Jake said, “We have a coal stove in the cellar but with weather like this, sure didn’t want to fire that up, so the outside stove is a blessing.”
“How long do you think your food will last?” Hallie asked.
“I don’t know,” Dad said, “three or four months, maybe a little longer; depends on what we can still harvest from the garden. By the way, there are plenty of tomatoes out there. You’re welcome to any of them, and string beans and a couple of zucchini. We can’t eat all of them.”
In fact, we were getting sick of them. Dad loved them. Tomato sandwiches. Enjoy them now, he had said at supper the night before, soon we’ll have no bread to eat them on. Soon we won’t have any salad dressing. So we “enjoyed them”, even if we didn’t like them.
“Thank you very much,” Hallie said. “I might take a few tomatoes. You say 3-4 months; I’m kind of thinking I only have food for a few weeks.”
“Well,” Dad said, “the fields are full of corn. You can scrounge if you have to and there are animals in the woods if you can catch or shoot one. Things are going to get tough. Listen, do I hear a generator running somewhere?”
“Yeah,” Marie said, “the neighbor up the road from us has been running it off and on since the electricity went off. Actually, he is selling water and ice offering it to the neighbors as his freezer and water pump are still working with the electricity he is making.”
Mel asked, “Won’t he run out of gasoline sometime?”
“Bill responded, “I guess he will, but he must have prepared a little bit and stored some up, so we sure do appreciate you giving us this water.”
“Yes, we do,” Norm chimed in.
“No problem,” said Dad, “you’re welcome to it any time.”
Just then, a truck came down the road. There hadn’t been any traffic for a day or two. It pulled in our driveway. It was John from the house running the generator. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“Not too bad,” folks answered.
“He looked at my dad and inquired, “Would you have any gasoline I can buy to keep my generator running?”
Dad said, “Buy? What would you use to buy it?”
“I got money,” John says, “I’ve been selling water and ice, plus I had some money saved up, so I can pay you for the gas.”
“Don’t need money,” Dad said. “Can’t buy anything with it, nothing I need, and besides, what gas I have, I might need at some critical time in the next few months.”
“I’ll give you $100 a gallon.” John retorted.
“Whoa!” Mom said, “that’s a lot of money.”
“Worthless money,” Jake said.
“I’m afraid Jake’s right,” Dad said, “Paper money, especially dollars, wouldn’t do us any good anyway.”
“I have some euros. A few guys at the office saw this coming, so we converted some of our dollars to euros. Would you be interested in swapping for some of them?” John asked.
“Hey,” said Josh, “that was pretty smart of you. Euros might be the next stable medium of exchange.”
“Very intriguing,” Dad answered, “Maybe a man could be well off one day if he amassed a barrel of them. But what good would it do him if he starves in the meantime? Are you sure you don’t have something else you could trade for gasoline, even though I really don’t want to get rid of it.”
“Gee, I don’t know,” John said, “Got a lot of stuff. What might you need?”
Dad thought a little bit. “A horse, solar panels, canning jar lids or rings, sugar, flashlight batteries, coal oil lantern, battery charger; do you have anything like that?”
“I have a kerosene lantern I’d trade. As far as a battery charger, do you mean for a car battery?” John asked.
“I didn’t. Although one might be useful one day. I was actually thinking of one to charge flashlight batteries. I couldn’t use it here, no generator, but you could plug it in every time you ran the generator. I guess I could trade a little gas for that if you had one.”
“No, sorry,” John said. “I don’t have one.”
Hallie said, “I do. I can put four D-cells in at a time and it recharges the batteries. I’ll share it, if John’s willing to charge batteries for us?”
Dad thought a little bit and said, “I could trade a little gas for that lantern and some battery charging. You’re running the generator any way. How long you think you’re going to run that thing, John?”
“Well, I really didn’t give that much thought. I’m trying to preserve the food I got, need water, although I see that there’s some water here.”
“Water that you’re welcome to,” Mom said.
“And another thing,” Dad said, “if I’m going to give you gas, I want you to stop charging people for water.”
“Well,” John said, “I guess your right: everybody down here is very willing to work together, so I ought to, too.”
“That’s great,” said Dad. “Jake, would you go in and get the dead batteries in that red shoebox inside the mud room?”
“Okay, Dad.” He answered.
Hallie said, “I’ll bring that charger up the next time I come up for water and some batteries that need charging.”
“I have a better idea,” Dad said. “Alyssa, would you drive your bike down the road with Hallie and bring back her charger and dead batteries? You can put them in those saddle bags we mounted on the bike for you. Norm, should she stop with you also; do you have some batteries that need charging?”
“Just two, I think. Might as well while we’re at it.”
“How soon do you need gas?” Dad asked John.
“I figure I have enough for two days, maybe three. Five gallons will give me another day if I run it intermittently.”
“You have a container along?” Dad asked.
“Sure,” he said.
“It won’t be easy getting it out of a vehicle but I’ll trade you five gallons. I’m glad we can work together on this.”
“So am I,” said John.
“Jake, take John up to the Ford and get the gas out of it. We won’t need to use that car much. Be darn careful siphoning it; there’s no emergency room to go to.”
When John and Jake had left, Jim looked at Dad and said, “that went pretty well. I thought you were going to be really tough on him.”
Dad said, “I thought I was going to be tough on him too, glad it turned out the way it did.”
Tune in next week for the rest of chapter four… Mort
The lights didn’t go out without a warning. Jake and Josh had stopped working. Their employers couldn’t pay them any more. Dad had stopped going to his job. His clients had no money. A couple of weeks before the lights went out, the gas stations closed. Up until that time, Dad had made sure that all our gas tanks were full, just so we had some fuel when the flow stopped. We spent the money that he had, knowing it wasn’t going to be useful to keep it. Fortunately, businesses accepted it until they had nothing else to sell. Some of the things Dad bought were two gallons of vinegar, some canned food, a couple of bags of chicken feed, seeds for the next year’s planting, some cleaning supplies, some medical supplies, and candles.
It didn’t take long for the grocery stores to empty and then most of the other stores closed up also. There was no transportation. With all the fuel that was available diverted to the military, providing for their needs and their food, there was no longer enough fuel to supply the rest of the country. No trucks to bring products in. So the shelves got empty and the stores closed.
Things were actually fairly peaceful around home. Contact was lost. There was no radio. No TV or phone. The government was still broadcasting. The only way we could hear it was using a car radio for short spells. The president’s message, broadcast occasionally, was that we were supposed to prepare for the worst. He didn’t pull any punches. He warned us that winter was only three to four months away. He reminded us that we had to help each other to survive, that he was engaged in protecting our country from outside forces and would not be able to help us at the domestic level. With no radio or TV, we also had no weather forecast. We didn’t really need one. The next day was very hot. Didn’t know what was coming later but we dealt with it one day at a time.
We knew with no electricity the freezers may not be opened. The longer you could keep the doors closed, the longer the food would keep. It gave us time to prepare. The refrigerators, on the other hand, started to warm up quicker. So we took all the food out of them, put it in coolers, and carried it into the ground cellar where we kept our eggs and where it was only around 55 degrees.
Our meals for the first couple of days were everything out of the coolers that had been in the refrigerator; things we knew would spoil the quickest. We opened no cans, used hardly any food that was still packaged. Opened loaves of bread, rolls or pastry were used, but even those if sealed up well would last pretty long, longer than some of the foods from the refrigerator.
It didn’t take long, we had visitors. We had running water, not ground water, however. Our farm had a water collection tank fed by tile lines that drained the fields around it and we had a line running from that tank to the barn that ran continuously. The water was fairly cool and clean but always had the possibility of contamination from manure or pesticides because the water was gathered so close to the surface. Over the years, we avoided drinking it for that reason but occasionally we did and it hadn’t had any ill effects.
That made no difference to the neighbors who came as they had no water. Yes, they were using their bottled water, soda, beer, and juice. They could drink those things but it was not an unlimited supply. So, they came with buckets and jugs and we shared our water with them, advising them to perhaps add a little Clorox, hydrogen peroxide or water purification tablets to the water that they were going to drink or boil it if they had a wood stove or an outside fireplace. It was fine to use to flush the toilets and even for washing, bathing or laundry. Marie and Bill from up the street came down for water, used a toy express wagon to bring their jugs and buckets. That was very ingenious. Jim and Hallie from down the road came up to get some water, carrying a few jugs. Norm and Janice came with them too with a couple of their kids to help carry everything. They noticed we were pretty busy.
Marie said, “You got fire going in the butcher house.”
“Certainly do,” Dad said, “we have a lot of food to preserve.”
“How do you mean?” Bill asked.
“Well what’s in the freezers won’t keep forever, so in a day or two, we’re going to open up and can or dry what we can’t eat.”
“Maybe that’s what we’ll have to do?” Hallie said to her husband Jim, “If I remember how to do it.”
Mom and I were busy gathering jars. Any place we could find a jar that could have a sealed lid. Josh was tending the fire. The stove had a nice broad flat plate on top. There was probably room for 5 or 6 big kettles on it. He and Mel were heating water and washing the jars, getting them nice and clean so that they would be ready.
Dad said to the neighbors, “We can cook on that fire too.”
Norm said, “We’ve been cooking on the propane grill.”
Jake jumped in, “But your propane is only going to last so long.”
“I’m aware of that,” Norm answered. “There’s enough wood lying around. I guess I’m going to have to switch to a wood fire sometime, make some sort of fireplace outside.”
“You can always use a grate from the refrigerator or freezer, if it’s not made of plastic; even better the grate from a gas grill,” Josh offered.
“Yes, I suppose that would be handy,” Norm responded.
Jake said, “We have a coal stove in the cellar but with weather like this, sure didn’t want to fire that up, so the outside stove is a blessing.”
“How long do you think your food will last?” Hallie asked.
“I don’t know,” Dad said, “three or four months, maybe a little longer; depends on what we can still harvest from the garden. By the way, there are plenty of tomatoes out there. You’re welcome to any of them, and string beans and a couple of zucchini. We can’t eat all of them.”
In fact, we were getting sick of them. Dad loved them. Tomato sandwiches. Enjoy them now, he had said at supper the night before, soon we’ll have no bread to eat them on. Soon we won’t have any salad dressing. So we “enjoyed them”, even if we didn’t like them.
“Thank you very much,” Hallie said. “I might take a few tomatoes. You say 3-4 months; I’m kind of thinking I only have food for a few weeks.”
“Well,” Dad said, “the fields are full of corn. You can scrounge if you have to and there are animals in the woods if you can catch or shoot one. Things are going to get tough. Listen, do I hear a generator running somewhere?”
“Yeah,” Marie said, “the neighbor up the road from us has been running it off and on since the electricity went off. Actually, he is selling water and ice offering it to the neighbors as his freezer and water pump are still working with the electricity he is making.”
Mel asked, “Won’t he run out of gasoline sometime?”
“Bill responded, “I guess he will, but he must have prepared a little bit and stored some up, so we sure do appreciate you giving us this water.”
“Yes, we do,” Norm chimed in.
“No problem,” said Dad, “you’re welcome to it any time.”
Just then, a truck came down the road. There hadn’t been any traffic for a day or two. It pulled in our driveway. It was John from the house running the generator. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“Not too bad,” folks answered.
“He looked at my dad and inquired, “Would you have any gasoline I can buy to keep my generator running?”
Dad said, “Buy? What would you use to buy it?”
“I got money,” John says, “I’ve been selling water and ice, plus I had some money saved up, so I can pay you for the gas.”
“Don’t need money,” Dad said. “Can’t buy anything with it, nothing I need, and besides, what gas I have, I might need at some critical time in the next few months.”
“I’ll give you $100 a gallon.” John retorted.
“Whoa!” Mom said, “that’s a lot of money.”
“Worthless money,” Jake said.
“I’m afraid Jake’s right,” Dad said, “Paper money, especially dollars, wouldn’t do us any good anyway.”
“I have some euros. A few guys at the office saw this coming, so we converted some of our dollars to euros. Would you be interested in swapping for some of them?” John asked.
“Hey,” said Josh, “that was pretty smart of you. Euros might be the next stable medium of exchange.”
“Very intriguing,” Dad answered, “Maybe a man could be well off one day if he amassed a barrel of them. But what good would it do him if he starves in the meantime? Are you sure you don’t have something else you could trade for gasoline, even though I really don’t want to get rid of it.”
“Gee, I don’t know,” John said, “Got a lot of stuff. What might you need?”
Dad thought a little bit. “A horse, solar panels, canning jar lids or rings, sugar, flashlight batteries, coal oil lantern, battery charger; do you have anything like that?”
“I have a kerosene lantern I’d trade. As far as a battery charger, do you mean for a car battery?” John asked.
“I didn’t. Although one might be useful one day. I was actually thinking of one to charge flashlight batteries. I couldn’t use it here, no generator, but you could plug it in every time you ran the generator. I guess I could trade a little gas for that if you had one.”
“No, sorry,” John said. “I don’t have one.”
Hallie said, “I do. I can put four D-cells in at a time and it recharges the batteries. I’ll share it, if John’s willing to charge batteries for us?”
Dad thought a little bit and said, “I could trade a little gas for that lantern and some battery charging. You’re running the generator any way. How long you think you’re going to run that thing, John?”
“Well, I really didn’t give that much thought. I’m trying to preserve the food I got, need water, although I see that there’s some water here.”
“Water that you’re welcome to,” Mom said.
“And another thing,” Dad said, “if I’m going to give you gas, I want you to stop charging people for water.”
“Well,” John said, “I guess your right: everybody down here is very willing to work together, so I ought to, too.”
“That’s great,” said Dad. “Jake, would you go in and get the dead batteries in that red shoebox inside the mud room?”
“Okay, Dad.” He answered.
Hallie said, “I’ll bring that charger up the next time I come up for water and some batteries that need charging.”
“I have a better idea,” Dad said. “Alyssa, would you drive your bike down the road with Hallie and bring back her charger and dead batteries? You can put them in those saddle bags we mounted on the bike for you. Norm, should she stop with you also; do you have some batteries that need charging?”
“Just two, I think. Might as well while we’re at it.”
“How soon do you need gas?” Dad asked John.
“I figure I have enough for two days, maybe three. Five gallons will give me another day if I run it intermittently.”
“You have a container along?” Dad asked.
“Sure,” he said.
“It won’t be easy getting it out of a vehicle but I’ll trade you five gallons. I’m glad we can work together on this.”
“So am I,” said John.
“Jake, take John up to the Ford and get the gas out of it. We won’t need to use that car much. Be darn careful siphoning it; there’s no emergency room to go to.”
When John and Jake had left, Jim looked at Dad and said, “that went pretty well. I thought you were going to be really tough on him.”
Dad said, “I thought I was going to be tough on him too, glad it turned out the way it did.”
Tune in next week for the rest of chapter four… Mort
And a Merry Christmas to all!
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Chapter Three, continued
“So,” Reverend Schneider asked, “how will all this affect our church?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Dad said. “Some people might turn away thinking God deserted us, but for the most part, people might flock to the church like they have in the past when things go awry. As far as our individual church, no money will be coming in. It would be worthless anyway. So, there would be no pay any more for you and your staff but why would you need it? You wouldn’t have a car payment. There would be no finance company in business any more. You wouldn’t have to pay car insurance. You wouldn’t have to buy gas or oil for it or oil for your home, there isn’t any to buy. You’d have no medical bills, the hospitals are out of business. No electric bill. No phone bill. You wouldn’t have to pay life insurance or health insurance, those companies are out of business. No college tuition. Your mortgage holder, they’d be broke, you wouldn’t have to pay them either.”
Reverend Schneider said, “Gee, all those things are what cause people a lot of stress. All those things are what keep us strapped down. It would create quite a different mode of thinking, wouldn’t it?”
Dad said, “I guess it would. The only thing you’d possibly need money for is food or fuel. But there’s no place to buy any, so I imagine from the church end of it, we could bring our tithe to the temple as the Scriptures say. Bring one-tenth of our food, what we could find; then I think you could be sustained, at least in theory. You’d also become quite a busy man as your services would still be needed. There’d be a lot of people in dire straights that would need your counseling and your spiritual view on things to keep them going. And I hate to say it, you might be busy burying people, too, depending on how poorly things go. I also see you becoming an itinerant. You ride your bicycle now sometimes. Can you imagine biking from farm to house to farm, visiting the congregation members, supporting them, and doing what you can for them? And they, in return, sharing what they have with you and your family?”
Reverend Schneider said, “I guess I could see that happening. What other consequences do you see from the government failing?”
Dad answered, “The federal government, state, and local government, they all run on money. The money flow stops. No paychecks. No taxes get paid. No government workers get paid. Few services get provided. Government essentially shuts down. Maybe the fire companies, both the paid and volunteer, stay on guard but they could only operate until their fuel is depleted. Some police officers would just pack it in because they wouldn’t be paid. Others, especially in small towns, would nobly continue their profession, even though they wouldn’t be paid. But how much could they do without cars to mobilize them?”
“Horses and bicycles again,” Reverend answered. “Like you said, a regression. Things like they were 200 years ago.”
“Dad continued, “And no road workers needed. No fuel to drive. No reason to plow snow. Will need to take care of ourselves and that’s where I’m optimistic. I believe people will rally and support each other.”
“How about this talk of marshal law?” the Reverend asked.
“I think it’s a phobia,” Dad answered. “Only really a problem to the freedom at all costs individual, like the libertarians. Many people have survived over the centuries ruled by dictators, emperors, or kings.”
“Reverend Schneider said, “Like the Jews in Jesus’ time under Roman oppression.”
“Like that,” Dad answered, “but if the federal government truly goes broke, there won’t be resources to enforce marshal law, at least not nationwide. Maybe just around some critical urban centers like Washington, DC. People worry a lot about too much government. I watched Animal Farm a few weeks ago where the government indeed was overwhelmingly oppressive. I don’t see that happening. I see the opposite; them becoming ineffective, not able to do much of anything.”
The Reverend inquired, “You think there might be anarchy?”
“There might be, at some spots, but again, I still think peoples’ hearts will shine and we’ll all work together.”
“I’m all for that,” the minister responded, “But let’s hope that the other things we talked about don’t happen.”
Dad said, “Let’s pray it doesn’t happen and whether it does or not, Jesus will sustain us. We have to trust him. He is our comfort in good times and bad times, in life or death.”
As we drove away from church that Sunday dad told us that we should take any money we were saving and spend it. Not waste it, but buy something of value, something we could later eat or help us grow food. Or something we could use to see at night and to travel from place to place. Or tools that could be useful. We should spend it now, while there was something to buy.
“Let’s use our money while it’s still has some value and while there’s still things in the stores to buy,” Dad concluded.
I took his advice and bought a bicycle, the only new one I’d ever had and a hand air pump to keep the tires inflated. Really made Dad proud.
After that, things happened very quickly. China pulled the economic plug. I really don’t know what happened or why, and even Dad didn’t really understand it, but the financial capitals around the globe reacted. American companies or individuals that had foreign investments lost them. Insurance companies, retirement funds, investments all went sour. The checks stopped coming. The President reacted by mobilizing the armed forces to protect the borders, evidently feeling that there was more of a military threat than an economic one.
Everything, every resource the government had was pushed to the borders and conserved for the armed forces. No more money for the government to do the other things they were doing. No more inflated currency. The banks were done. There was no reason to go there anyway. No one was receiving any money.
Dad had made some quick decisions and stocked up on some things: 80-pound bag of salt, two five-gallon buckets of molasses, 100-pound bag of oatmeal, flashlights and batteries. Sometime after that, gas stations closed. The flow of oil stopped. We had stopped driving anyway trying to conserve every bit of fuel that we had. Some time later, the postal delivery stopped but before it did, we got notice that school would be suspended indefinitely. After that, electricity was rationed. Six hours on, six hours off. Then, they tried eight hours on, sixteen hours off, but finally, on August 17th, the lights went out.
There’s more in Chapter Four, look for it next week, Mort
“I don’t know exactly,” Dad said. “Some people might turn away thinking God deserted us, but for the most part, people might flock to the church like they have in the past when things go awry. As far as our individual church, no money will be coming in. It would be worthless anyway. So, there would be no pay any more for you and your staff but why would you need it? You wouldn’t have a car payment. There would be no finance company in business any more. You wouldn’t have to pay car insurance. You wouldn’t have to buy gas or oil for it or oil for your home, there isn’t any to buy. You’d have no medical bills, the hospitals are out of business. No electric bill. No phone bill. You wouldn’t have to pay life insurance or health insurance, those companies are out of business. No college tuition. Your mortgage holder, they’d be broke, you wouldn’t have to pay them either.”
Reverend Schneider said, “Gee, all those things are what cause people a lot of stress. All those things are what keep us strapped down. It would create quite a different mode of thinking, wouldn’t it?”
Dad said, “I guess it would. The only thing you’d possibly need money for is food or fuel. But there’s no place to buy any, so I imagine from the church end of it, we could bring our tithe to the temple as the Scriptures say. Bring one-tenth of our food, what we could find; then I think you could be sustained, at least in theory. You’d also become quite a busy man as your services would still be needed. There’d be a lot of people in dire straights that would need your counseling and your spiritual view on things to keep them going. And I hate to say it, you might be busy burying people, too, depending on how poorly things go. I also see you becoming an itinerant. You ride your bicycle now sometimes. Can you imagine biking from farm to house to farm, visiting the congregation members, supporting them, and doing what you can for them? And they, in return, sharing what they have with you and your family?”
Reverend Schneider said, “I guess I could see that happening. What other consequences do you see from the government failing?”
Dad answered, “The federal government, state, and local government, they all run on money. The money flow stops. No paychecks. No taxes get paid. No government workers get paid. Few services get provided. Government essentially shuts down. Maybe the fire companies, both the paid and volunteer, stay on guard but they could only operate until their fuel is depleted. Some police officers would just pack it in because they wouldn’t be paid. Others, especially in small towns, would nobly continue their profession, even though they wouldn’t be paid. But how much could they do without cars to mobilize them?”
“Horses and bicycles again,” Reverend answered. “Like you said, a regression. Things like they were 200 years ago.”
“Dad continued, “And no road workers needed. No fuel to drive. No reason to plow snow. Will need to take care of ourselves and that’s where I’m optimistic. I believe people will rally and support each other.”
“How about this talk of marshal law?” the Reverend asked.
“I think it’s a phobia,” Dad answered. “Only really a problem to the freedom at all costs individual, like the libertarians. Many people have survived over the centuries ruled by dictators, emperors, or kings.”
“Reverend Schneider said, “Like the Jews in Jesus’ time under Roman oppression.”
“Like that,” Dad answered, “but if the federal government truly goes broke, there won’t be resources to enforce marshal law, at least not nationwide. Maybe just around some critical urban centers like Washington, DC. People worry a lot about too much government. I watched Animal Farm a few weeks ago where the government indeed was overwhelmingly oppressive. I don’t see that happening. I see the opposite; them becoming ineffective, not able to do much of anything.”
The Reverend inquired, “You think there might be anarchy?”
“There might be, at some spots, but again, I still think peoples’ hearts will shine and we’ll all work together.”
“I’m all for that,” the minister responded, “But let’s hope that the other things we talked about don’t happen.”
Dad said, “Let’s pray it doesn’t happen and whether it does or not, Jesus will sustain us. We have to trust him. He is our comfort in good times and bad times, in life or death.”
As we drove away from church that Sunday dad told us that we should take any money we were saving and spend it. Not waste it, but buy something of value, something we could later eat or help us grow food. Or something we could use to see at night and to travel from place to place. Or tools that could be useful. We should spend it now, while there was something to buy.
“Let’s use our money while it’s still has some value and while there’s still things in the stores to buy,” Dad concluded.
I took his advice and bought a bicycle, the only new one I’d ever had and a hand air pump to keep the tires inflated. Really made Dad proud.
After that, things happened very quickly. China pulled the economic plug. I really don’t know what happened or why, and even Dad didn’t really understand it, but the financial capitals around the globe reacted. American companies or individuals that had foreign investments lost them. Insurance companies, retirement funds, investments all went sour. The checks stopped coming. The President reacted by mobilizing the armed forces to protect the borders, evidently feeling that there was more of a military threat than an economic one.
Everything, every resource the government had was pushed to the borders and conserved for the armed forces. No more money for the government to do the other things they were doing. No more inflated currency. The banks were done. There was no reason to go there anyway. No one was receiving any money.
Dad had made some quick decisions and stocked up on some things: 80-pound bag of salt, two five-gallon buckets of molasses, 100-pound bag of oatmeal, flashlights and batteries. Sometime after that, gas stations closed. The flow of oil stopped. We had stopped driving anyway trying to conserve every bit of fuel that we had. Some time later, the postal delivery stopped but before it did, we got notice that school would be suspended indefinitely. After that, electricity was rationed. Six hours on, six hours off. Then, they tried eight hours on, sixteen hours off, but finally, on August 17th, the lights went out.
There’s more in Chapter Four, look for it next week, Mort
Thursday, December 07, 2006
CHAPTER THREE - COLLAPSE
The following summer was like no other that I had experienced in my twelve years nor was it like any other possibly in the history of the world. I didn’t go to camp. There wasn’t any. There was no Folk Festival to work at. No picnics. No softball games. But there was a war, like my sixth grade geography teacher had said would be, in the Middle East. But amazingly, it didn’t spread over the whole world.
“The wisest thing the President ever did,” Dad told the minister one Sunday in June, one of the last Sundays we’d get to church that year, “was to keep us out of the war.”
“He knew it was unwinnable,” responded the pastor. Reverend Schneider and Dad were pretty close. They worked together on many projects as Dad served on church council and in the Sunday School.
“Right,” Dad answered, “he did some bargaining to preserve the union.”
“He sure did. And so far he’s keeping the Sino-Russo Alliance out of our country. But for how long?” Reverend Schneider inquired.
“Who knows?” Dad said, “but they have no reason to invade. With what we agreed to economically, there will not be much to defend at some point.”
A year earlier, the fear was that Iran was going to acquire the ability to build a nuclear weapon, be the powder keg in the Middle East, and start a world war. As it turned out, they were the powder keg but didn’t need to build nuclear weapons. Russia and China provided them. Call it an unholy alliance if you wish, but it worked in their favor. When most of our troops had withdrawn from the Middle East, Russia had informed us that Iran was going to attack Israel with both theirs and China’s support. We were strongly advised to stay out of the fray and in return, they would contain the war to the Eastern Hemisphere. The President agreed. Iran nuked Israel. Israel got only two retaliatory missiles to their targets. The US and Great Britain stayed out. Israel was destroyed almost even before its missiles hit Iran. The place is an ecological mess. The consequences of the radiation were both immediate with large loss of life and also long-lasting. We don’t know how long the effects will be felt nor if we will ever feel any consequences in this country. China and Russia mobilized to clean up the mess and bring some sense of normalcy to the region which was part of the agreement they made with the Western powers. It will keep them busy for a while. The prevailing westerlies carried the radiation from the Mediterranean over the rest of Asia. It’s not a pretty picture, but the bottom line is that China now controls the Middle East oil fields. All this happened during the last few weeks of school. Our teachers kept us informed but it sure was a somber and anxious end of the school year.
Dad said, “They won’t invade soon. They’re too busy cleaning up the mess.”
“But changing the world’s currency from the dollar to the euro is going to have some impact, right?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“That’s the one that’s going to be hard to overcome,” Dad answered.
“When the dollar fails, and the money stops flowing, what else happens?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Dad answered. “It all depends on what the Federal Reserve Bank does. More than likely, they’ll start printing more money, way too much money. Run away inflation. It would shrink our debt comparatively but it would make savings accounts, certificates of deposit, retirement plans, annuities, and insurance policies have less and less value to the point where there would be no benefit to having dollars.”
“The Federal Reserve Bank has too much power doesn’t it?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“Kind of,” Dad answered, “more of the problem is it’s an unchecked power, not subject to the checks and balances that were set up in the Constitution. On the good side, the Federal Reserve has had a stabilizing effect on the economy and on the money supply for years, so it sort of works.”
Reverend Schneider asked, “Isn’t that why Kennedy was assassinated? Because he was trying to eliminate the Federal Reserve Bank?”
“Well,” Dad said, “that’s another one of those theories. There are all kinds of guesses who needed Kennedy eliminated and maybe that’s a true one.”
“So what’s going to fail first?” the Reverend asked.
“My guess,” Dad answered, “that it will be the stock market, then after that, insurance companies as they are invested so heavily in the stock market, and after that the banks, and then finally the government.”
“All the governments?” the Reverend asked.
“Probably; they all run on money and when the money dries up, no one will want to work for them any more. And as the supply of gas and oil dries up, no one will even be able to get to work. And eventually, there will be no electricity-generating capacity. They will run out of fuel or they will run out of workers and the lights will go out.”
The Reverend asked, “I imagine it will worse than a recession, more like a depression?”
“Not like a recession, but even worse than a depression. I envision it being a regression,” Dad answered.
“A regression; what’s that?”
“That’s when we have to return to doing things the way we did before technology and industrialization – the way we fended for ourselves 200 years ago,” Dad responded.
Reverend Schneider inquired, “So when the governments fail, what additional consequences will there be?”
Dad answered, “The obvious one is people will lose jobs but there will still be plenty of work. People will work trying to keep themselves alive, finding water and food or growing and harvesting food. Also trying to keep others alive such as people that are on respirators, or those who need kidney dialysis, people in nursing homes. They’ll even be trouble in the hospitals when the air conditioning goes out and there is no electricity to run machines. I imagine the health care workers will have quite a challenge. That’s if they can get to the hospital. Perhaps the busiest people will be the undertakers because people will die, especially those who are being kept alive by the medical profession.”
“Additionally, there will be a migration. People will migrate toward food, toward water, and away from the cold. All that talk about closing the borders to keep people out of this country might turn around. Maybe Mexico will close its borders so we cannot migrate back to where it is warm, but people will have to move. Nothing we’re really looking forward to.”
“So how’s the farming community going to respond?” the Reverend asked.
“Well, I’m not sure,” Dad said, “But you know all these big chicken houses that we have around here. The chickens survive because they have forced fresh air, temperature control, automatic feed and water. They’re all protected by generating systems, so that when the electricity goes out, those life-support systems continue but they’ll only run until the fuel tank is empty. I would hope that most chicken farmers or turkey farmers would open up the doors and let them out as soon as they know that there won’t be a way to keep them alive. Sure, when they’re released, they won’t know what to do but they’ll start scratching; they’ll start fending for themselves. They’ll find some water source but something will find them too. Predators. The dogs, the cats, raccoons, fox. So, many will die but many will survive, and they will be a food source for someone. But if they’re left in the buildings, they’ll all die. It won’t be a loss to the farmer if he is counting on
the chickens for income because there will be no one processing anymore. No more egg dealers. No one slaughtering chickens, so he might as well let them out. At least they’ll be food for some one.”
“Dairy farmers have the same tough situation. No sense milking them. You can’t sell the milk; no truck would come and get it, out of fuel, so there will be some changes there. No electricity to run the silo unloaders. It will be a challenge for every farmer. Didn’t think much about people who have hogs. Some of those buildings are temperature and climate controlled. If you let them loose, they’d be a pain, I guess, but you cannot spend an inordinate amount of time feeding them. There would be no place to sell them but at least you could slaughter one once in a while for food.”
“As far as the crops in the field, all those people who are out of work and looking for a way to earn some food would be available to help bring the crops in, the old-fashioned way. Cart, bucket, by hand, any way to get some kind of food stored for the winter and to help some of the animals survive.”
To be continued… Tune in next week, Mort
The following summer was like no other that I had experienced in my twelve years nor was it like any other possibly in the history of the world. I didn’t go to camp. There wasn’t any. There was no Folk Festival to work at. No picnics. No softball games. But there was a war, like my sixth grade geography teacher had said would be, in the Middle East. But amazingly, it didn’t spread over the whole world.
“The wisest thing the President ever did,” Dad told the minister one Sunday in June, one of the last Sundays we’d get to church that year, “was to keep us out of the war.”
“He knew it was unwinnable,” responded the pastor. Reverend Schneider and Dad were pretty close. They worked together on many projects as Dad served on church council and in the Sunday School.
“Right,” Dad answered, “he did some bargaining to preserve the union.”
“He sure did. And so far he’s keeping the Sino-Russo Alliance out of our country. But for how long?” Reverend Schneider inquired.
“Who knows?” Dad said, “but they have no reason to invade. With what we agreed to economically, there will not be much to defend at some point.”
A year earlier, the fear was that Iran was going to acquire the ability to build a nuclear weapon, be the powder keg in the Middle East, and start a world war. As it turned out, they were the powder keg but didn’t need to build nuclear weapons. Russia and China provided them. Call it an unholy alliance if you wish, but it worked in their favor. When most of our troops had withdrawn from the Middle East, Russia had informed us that Iran was going to attack Israel with both theirs and China’s support. We were strongly advised to stay out of the fray and in return, they would contain the war to the Eastern Hemisphere. The President agreed. Iran nuked Israel. Israel got only two retaliatory missiles to their targets. The US and Great Britain stayed out. Israel was destroyed almost even before its missiles hit Iran. The place is an ecological mess. The consequences of the radiation were both immediate with large loss of life and also long-lasting. We don’t know how long the effects will be felt nor if we will ever feel any consequences in this country. China and Russia mobilized to clean up the mess and bring some sense of normalcy to the region which was part of the agreement they made with the Western powers. It will keep them busy for a while. The prevailing westerlies carried the radiation from the Mediterranean over the rest of Asia. It’s not a pretty picture, but the bottom line is that China now controls the Middle East oil fields. All this happened during the last few weeks of school. Our teachers kept us informed but it sure was a somber and anxious end of the school year.
Dad said, “They won’t invade soon. They’re too busy cleaning up the mess.”
“But changing the world’s currency from the dollar to the euro is going to have some impact, right?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“That’s the one that’s going to be hard to overcome,” Dad answered.
“When the dollar fails, and the money stops flowing, what else happens?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Dad answered. “It all depends on what the Federal Reserve Bank does. More than likely, they’ll start printing more money, way too much money. Run away inflation. It would shrink our debt comparatively but it would make savings accounts, certificates of deposit, retirement plans, annuities, and insurance policies have less and less value to the point where there would be no benefit to having dollars.”
“The Federal Reserve Bank has too much power doesn’t it?” Reverend Schneider asked.
“Kind of,” Dad answered, “more of the problem is it’s an unchecked power, not subject to the checks and balances that were set up in the Constitution. On the good side, the Federal Reserve has had a stabilizing effect on the economy and on the money supply for years, so it sort of works.”
Reverend Schneider asked, “Isn’t that why Kennedy was assassinated? Because he was trying to eliminate the Federal Reserve Bank?”
“Well,” Dad said, “that’s another one of those theories. There are all kinds of guesses who needed Kennedy eliminated and maybe that’s a true one.”
“So what’s going to fail first?” the Reverend asked.
“My guess,” Dad answered, “that it will be the stock market, then after that, insurance companies as they are invested so heavily in the stock market, and after that the banks, and then finally the government.”
“All the governments?” the Reverend asked.
“Probably; they all run on money and when the money dries up, no one will want to work for them any more. And as the supply of gas and oil dries up, no one will even be able to get to work. And eventually, there will be no electricity-generating capacity. They will run out of fuel or they will run out of workers and the lights will go out.”
The Reverend asked, “I imagine it will worse than a recession, more like a depression?”
“Not like a recession, but even worse than a depression. I envision it being a regression,” Dad answered.
“A regression; what’s that?”
“That’s when we have to return to doing things the way we did before technology and industrialization – the way we fended for ourselves 200 years ago,” Dad responded.
Reverend Schneider inquired, “So when the governments fail, what additional consequences will there be?”
Dad answered, “The obvious one is people will lose jobs but there will still be plenty of work. People will work trying to keep themselves alive, finding water and food or growing and harvesting food. Also trying to keep others alive such as people that are on respirators, or those who need kidney dialysis, people in nursing homes. They’ll even be trouble in the hospitals when the air conditioning goes out and there is no electricity to run machines. I imagine the health care workers will have quite a challenge. That’s if they can get to the hospital. Perhaps the busiest people will be the undertakers because people will die, especially those who are being kept alive by the medical profession.”
“Additionally, there will be a migration. People will migrate toward food, toward water, and away from the cold. All that talk about closing the borders to keep people out of this country might turn around. Maybe Mexico will close its borders so we cannot migrate back to where it is warm, but people will have to move. Nothing we’re really looking forward to.”
“So how’s the farming community going to respond?” the Reverend asked.
“Well, I’m not sure,” Dad said, “But you know all these big chicken houses that we have around here. The chickens survive because they have forced fresh air, temperature control, automatic feed and water. They’re all protected by generating systems, so that when the electricity goes out, those life-support systems continue but they’ll only run until the fuel tank is empty. I would hope that most chicken farmers or turkey farmers would open up the doors and let them out as soon as they know that there won’t be a way to keep them alive. Sure, when they’re released, they won’t know what to do but they’ll start scratching; they’ll start fending for themselves. They’ll find some water source but something will find them too. Predators. The dogs, the cats, raccoons, fox. So, many will die but many will survive, and they will be a food source for someone. But if they’re left in the buildings, they’ll all die. It won’t be a loss to the farmer if he is counting on
the chickens for income because there will be no one processing anymore. No more egg dealers. No one slaughtering chickens, so he might as well let them out. At least they’ll be food for some one.”
“Dairy farmers have the same tough situation. No sense milking them. You can’t sell the milk; no truck would come and get it, out of fuel, so there will be some changes there. No electricity to run the silo unloaders. It will be a challenge for every farmer. Didn’t think much about people who have hogs. Some of those buildings are temperature and climate controlled. If you let them loose, they’d be a pain, I guess, but you cannot spend an inordinate amount of time feeding them. There would be no place to sell them but at least you could slaughter one once in a while for food.”
“As far as the crops in the field, all those people who are out of work and looking for a way to earn some food would be available to help bring the crops in, the old-fashioned way. Cart, bucket, by hand, any way to get some kind of food stored for the winter and to help some of the animals survive.”
To be continued… Tune in next week, Mort
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