For over 34 years, my wife and I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area – prime earthquake territory, and we lived through a bunch of them, including the massive Loma Prieta Earthquake on October 17, 1989.
In early 2015, we moved to North Florida, to the small town of Monticello, in the Florida Panhandle region, about 25 miles northeast of Tallahassee. As we were preparing to leave, as we made the goodbye tour with our long-time friends, many of them lifelong Californians, several of them told us, half-jokingly, "Watch out for the hurricanes," to which I would respond, "Better than earthquakes."
Boy, I sure got THAT one wrong!
As the CEO of a small Chamber of Commerce in the East Bay, I made promoting earthquake preparedness a core Chamber of Commerce value. What could be more important for your family, your business and your employees than preparing for "The Big One" that every credible seismologist in the Bay Area said was due to hit?
And earthquakes do just that – they HIT; no warnings, no such thing as "earthquake season." It's ALWAYS earthquake season in California – 24//7 – and those were my reasons for thinking that earthquakes are worse natural disasters than hurricanes. No warning. No "season." No time to stock up on supplies, or get out of town.
At the Chamber, we took earthquake preparedness to heart and earned a reputation as "Earthquake Preparedness Central" in the East Bay. We were even recognized by FEMA and the Safe America Foundation for our work in promoting earthquake safety and awareness – one of only four Chambers of Commerce in the U.S. to achieve that designation. We were officially recognized as a "QuakeSmart" Chamber of Commerce.
Years later, we retired and moved to Florida. It took living through several Florida hurricanes – including the mammoth Michael in October, 2018 – to realize there is one element about hurricanes that indeed does make them "worse" than earthquakes.
Now please don't get me wrong: I am NOT minimizing the destructive nature of earthquakes. They can, and often do, cause massive damage and often loss of life, not to mention huge economic loss to businesses, costs to government and disruption to peoples' lives.
All natural disasters impact people and communities, and perhaps it's pointless to try to label which natural disaster is "worse" than another. But then it struck why hurricanes are "worse." And the reminder came from a very unlikely source.
Years ago, I was watching a TV talk show. The host was interviewing the legendary film director Alfred Hitchcock. The subject was "suspense" in motion pictures; how it is created so as to have the maximum audience impact.
And Hitch didn't disappoint in his explanation. He used a very simple, yet vivid example that brilliantly illustrated his approach. To this day, I can remember his response, virtually verbatim.
"Imagine," he said, in his slow, deep voice, each word perfectly enunciated, "that someone wants to kill a man by planting a bomb in his car. Now, there are two ways you can do this. One is by having the man get into his car, he turns on the ignition and BOOM! The bomb goes off and the man is killed. The audience gets a few seconds of shock, but no suspense."
He continued: "I prefer a different method. Let's say you show the bomber hiding the bomb in the victim's car well in advance. The audience knows it is there; the victim does not. The victim gets into the car and drives off – the bomb is timed to go off later and is not detonated by turning the ignition."
Hitchcock lowered his voice to a whisper; it was as if he were telling a story. "The unwary victim drives off, completely oblivious to the fate awaiting him, but you, the viewer, know. The camera gets a closeup of the bomb, then switches to a closeup of the victim's smiling face as he drives down the road, oblivious to the fate that awaits him."
Hitchcock's pace quickened. "Then cut to the bomb," he continued, "then back to the driver, then quickly back to the bomb, all the while the audience going mad with anticipation, then BOOM, and the driver is blown to pieces."
Hitchcock leaned back in his chair, relishing the moment. "So what was the difference between the two approaches?" he asked. "In the first," he explained, "the audience got a few seconds of surprise, maybe shock, but no tension, no suspense. A big BOOM – and then it is over.”
"But consider the second approach. There was suspense – the anticipation of knowing the fate that was going to befall the victim.”
“It's that anticipation – that waiting – that creates the suspense,” Hitchcock concluded.
It is the waiting, the anticipation that the hurricane is on its way, that is as terrifying as the storm itself: Knowing it is approaching, and not being able to stop it.
If you apply the "Hitchcock method," hurricanes win on the tension meter. The anticipation is the killer. An earthquake is like someone sneaking up on you and whacking you in the head. It hurts, and there can be significant damage, but no tension. BOOM! – it hits, and then it's over.
But a hurricane is like seeing the attacker coming at you, slowly, and you cannot do anything to stop him. You know that the attack is coming, and you are powerless to do anything about it.
The anticipation, the tension: that is why hurricanes are “worse” natural disasters. Not because they are necessarily more destructive than earthquakes; but because of the fear they instill in the hours and days before they strike.
Bob Canter
Monticello, FL