When 9/11 happened 10 years ago, I was curiously fortunate. I worked in a newsroom, and I knew exactly where I was supposed to be. Certainly, journalists faced challenges that day, and the weeks that followed, reacting to the shifting and cascading elements of the story, but the job was basically the same.
It was the case during every big event, like the major earthquakes I covered on the radio. Someone asked me why I didn’t seem to get upset or break down. I couldn’t answer right away, but after thinking about it, concluded that I simply didn’t have time for it. Of course, at some point you have to deal with your emotions, but those who have specific jobs at such times, like first-responders, and yes, reporters, instinctively know they have to put all that off. It’s usually better to deal with those issues later, when things calm down a bit.
Deep inside most journalists – and in some cases, not so deep – is a part that actually enjoys cataclysms – we get our cheap little adrenaline thrills at someone else’s expense. But that gets old really fast. Still, perhaps the real reason journalists keep going is that gathering and disseminating information about the event provides the comforting illusion of having some measure of control over it. By putting out the information, journalism is the process of sharing some of that sense of control. After being removed from immediate danger and having basic physical needs met, the next thing the individual must have to survive is information.
One of the benefits of having a home or family disaster plan is that it gives you a sense of control. When disaster strikes, you may find that some parts -- or most parts -- of the plan are useless, and you really don’t have the control you think you have, but at least you have some structure to hang thoughts on. The plan doesn’t have to be perfect. What’s important is that you have a job to do. Trust me, it will help keep your head together.
