The New York Times recently profiled a woman in western Massachusetts whose commitment to survivalism can only be described as extreme. She’s the author of Just in Case: How to Be Self-Sufficient When the Unexpected Happens, a manual born from her epiphany that “holy smoke, the cavalry doesn’t always charge in to rescue you”—a realization cemented by 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina. Her response? Become her own cavalry, armed with a “wicked good” grain grinder, a pressure canner, a solar oven, and enough cooking oil to rival a fast-food franchise. Each family member has a custom-packed survival backpack with essentials like water, tinder, and flashlights, all strategically stationed in their mudroom.
But here’s the kicker: how does anyone presume to write a guide for the unexpected? The irony is that by preparing, she’s expecting something, however vaguely defined. She hasn’t faced the unexpected; she’s constructed a detailed, anticipated scenario where her powdered milk and grain grinder will, presumably, be game-changers.
I’ve often wondered what my own fate would be in a near-apocalyptic world, where society’s remnants scrape by amidst the wreckage. As an unarmed urbanite without a lick of survivalist training, I’d likely perish before the first frost. If I were feeling ambitious, I might escape to the mountains with my camping gear and a questionable diet of roasted amphibians and fuchsia berries. Or, perhaps, I’d find refuge in an abandoned farmhouse with a pantry full of dusty canned beans. My most romantic vision? Moving into the Boston Public Library and fashioning a rat-hunting lifestyle worthy of post-apocalyptic legend.
But that’s just the speculative side of my mind. Mostly, I focus on living for the now. I prepare for the future in ways that align with current reality—I squirrel away money for retirement, hold a mix of 5-year and 20-year investments, develop skills to bolster my resume, and, yes, eat my share of Swiss chard. Preparing for improbable, cataclysmic events? Not on my radar. (Although, maybe after four more years of George W. Bush, it would have been.)
(Note: I did not read the book, just the NYT profile).
