In the Mid-70's I was a ten year old lad living with my family in the small community of Brookings along the Southern Oregon coast. Highway 101 interconnects most of the towns and cities along the Pacific coast from California to Washington state and in this part of the country there are only a few areas every hundred miles or so that allow roads to pass through the small gaps in the Pacific Coast Mountain Range. For each of these communities trucking in food and supplies from the populated inland areas of Oregon is an essential need on almost a daily basis.

While the South has huricaines, the Mid-West tornadoes, the Northeast ice storms, California its earthquakes, the U.S. Northwest receives "winter storms" off the Pacific Ocean that can really rock your world. One of these came in that blew the giant Douglass Fir trees down across houses, roads, cars, power lines, you name it. In addition mud and rockslides came down cutting off sections of the coastal highway on either side of a few of these coastal communities, which left us without electicity and isolated us from civilization for three days.

My family has been in the church since the days the Prophet Joseph Smith walked the earth, so yes we had no problem on the food storage front. I remember most of it being a fun adventure, kind of like camping at home with the lights out. Our family heated the house with a large portable kerosene heater that we roasted some awful kerosene-tinted tasting marshmellows on. Mom cooked the meals on our Coleman white gas camping stove. We also drove around and saw the trees across the houses and cars, the erosion and flooding, and going with dad who was the Branch President to check on the members (There's now a ward there).

I recall my dad having a conversation with mom a day or two after the power went off, about it being a good idea to stock up on some kerosene. He took me with him to the closest grocery store, Hanscam's. Larger than a corner convienence store but much smaller than the chain supermarkets that eventually put it out of business. I still vividly remember it being dark inside and a sea of people down each isle trying desparately to get the food they needed. I had been there several times before with my dad. It was during the Carter administration, times were tough with inflation and energy/fuel prices being sky high, we tried to save money by heating our house with kerosene even before this disaster.

I think my dad was really focused on getting the kerosene because he made his way to the back loading dock where the kerosene was kept, without me! Not being my dad's build, people ran into me after having been shoved by someone else. Others pushed me aside while they had armloads of food trying to get to the front of the store. There were people yelling and being agressive towards each other. Even at the age of ten, I knew things had changed and felt a sense of the danger in the crowd. I myself had to worm myself through the mosh-pit of bodies to make it back to my dad's side. He got the two cans of kerosene he wanted filled and eventually we made it to the checkstands. This period of time was before credit/debit cards though the registers were still electric. The clerks were having to tally up everyone's bill by doing the addition on a paper sack. I don't recall whether or not they were taking checks, I would speculate that they weren't.

An important lesson learned by a ten year old on the importance of food (fuel) storage? Darned right! So the next time you go on a supply mission during a civil upheaval, be sure to hold your ten year old's hand...