EOC – A Vignette - Prolog
Bruce Klepper sighed and hung up the white hard hat on the coat rack beside the door. It was going to be a long day. But a good one. Bruce flipped the light switch in the darkness of the windowless room. The LED lighting fixtures didn’t quite turn night into day, but they provided plenty of light. “And save the taxpayers a bundle on electrical costs for this place,” Bruce thought to himself.
The LED fixtures were one of the more minor of the attributes Bruce was able to get included in the just finished EOC for the small city where he’d been born and grew up. He’d left it for college, but returned, got married, and went to work for the city in the public works department.
But Bruce continued his education, taking classes in a subject near and dear to his heart. Emergency Management. He came from a long line of preppers, starting with his great-grandfather, who saw World War II coming long before most, and prepared for the hardships it would bring, even to the US.
Through World War II, the Korean Police Action, and the subsequent Cold War and Vietnam there was nothing to indicate the actions that the Klepper family continued to take since Great-Grandfather started it all were needless.
Bruce continued the tradition with his family. They were about as prepared as a family could get. But Bruce’s interests went further than his family’s survival in the trying times of the New Millennium. He wanted civilization and society to continue, no matter what happened.
So his interest in Emergency Management, to help as many people as possible, come what may. And it was coming to fruition. His appointment to City Emergency Management Coordinator for the city five years previously.
He was a little disappointed in the lack of success of some of his programs. Programs that promoted individual and family preparations. Though there was some interest, and follow through, even the near continuous series of disasters around the world did little to encourage people to prepare on their own.
Considering the happenings in the aftermath of Katrina, where the actions of FEMA and DHS, and other government agencies down the line showed how weak the system was to provide for the immediate needs of victims of a disaster, Bruce had thought people would prepare on their own.
But that event actually helped Bruce in a way. People seemed to want to be taken care of, no matter what, and the deficiencies in response highlighted by Katrina resulted in a minor up swell of interest in government sponsored emergency management activities.
Even with the interest, it had taken a bond issue, small special tax, public donations, several grants from as many agencies, and a large contribution from DHS and FEMA to get done what Bruce wanted for the city and county.
The new Emergency Operations Center he was now in was a big part of it, but not all. There was also the advanced training he’d managed to get many of the city, and with the help of his county based counterpart, county employees to take.
Just as importantly, the involvement of much of the city government was achieved. There had been some resistance. More than a little, from a few people in the city government. And there was some resentment from county officials, as well as city officials, that the EOC was to serve the county as well as the city, due to the government money that was accepted on that stipulation.
Today was the day. The ribbon cutting ceremony was just a few hours away. Bruce had come in early to go through the Center one last time before it became officially operational. It was his baby, and he wanted things to be perfect for the ceremony and the tours of the facility that would go with it. The people in the area had spent hard earned dollars to get the facility and Bruce had no problem with all those that might want to see where their money went getting a firsthand look.
The walk-through finished, Bruce sat down behind his desk and began rehearsing the speech he dreaded making, but had to do as part of his job. He’d made plenty of others, but this one was special.
“Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for your attendance today. Feel free to join in any of the tours of the facility that are just about to start.”
Bruce smiled and shook hands with politicos and civilians alike. The Mayor’s and County Executive’s speeches had both been long and more political than anything else. But that was okay. The huge scissors had cut the red ribbon with ease, and now, after just a few more handshakes and he could seek some solitude in the Center.
Only it didn’t quite work out that way. Sam Grossman, the Mayor, and the County Executive, Broady Banks, wanted a private tour. Though both had signed off on the plans, and had turned a shovel of dirt at the inaugural building ceremony, neither had visited the site since.
Bruce looked up when a cloud suddenly obscured the sun. A chill went down his back despite the warmth of the late summer day. “Very well, Gentleman. This way,” Bruce said and led the way toward the entrance of the building. “How is George doing?”
George Blainmartain, Bruce’s counterpart at the County level, had been in an automobile accident two months previously and was still in the hospital.
“Not well,” Broady replied. “As much as I hate to, I’m going to need to appoint an interim Coordinator. Julie Bell just can’t handle it.”
Bruce kept his mouth shut. He knew Julie. Had dated her a few times years ago. Broady didn’t like working with women. He put the situation out of his mind and continued the tour.
Two hours later, with his ears still ringing from the protests of Broady and Sam at how much money had been spent on such an elaborate facility, now that they’d seen it, Bruce again hung up his hard hat in his small office and sat down behind the desk.
They could complain all they wanted. The EOC was a fact now. It would be only a matter of time before the value of the facility would be obvious. Bruce just didn’t know how soon that time would come.
EOC – A Vignette
It had been a week since the opening of the EOC. A week without sunshine. That lone cloud on the day of the opening had grown to cover the sky, bringing a little rain that evening. But as the days progressed, the weather system began to dump record amounts of rain on the area.
Bruce monitored the weather closely, and got rather reluctantly given hourly reports from all the city services about possible flooding situations. Things were getting close, but not to the point that Bruce felt recommending that the Mayor activate the EOC.
He was glad he didn’t when the weather broke and things began to get back to normal. Except the ground was at the point of saturation. Bruce was well aware that had the rain not stopped when it did, there would have been minor flooding.
The Sunday after the rain quit, Bruce was watching football with his wife and two children. When halftime came, as was his usual practice, while the others got snacks or went to the bathroom, Bruce switched the TV to the Weather Channel for a quick update. What he saw had him sitting up straight in his chair. There was a tropical depression developing in the Atlantic, and the projections on its future path put the city right in the center of cone of probability.
Yes, the city wasn’t very close to the coast, but hurricanes had swung up this far in the past. A long time past. But Bruce had studied the weather history of the area and knew that getting, at the very least, a strong storm system in the area from the remains of a hurricane was possible. Even probable. In the past that had not been a problem.
Bruce felt that tickle of warning he got when facts began to connect in his brain. A possible hurricane, almost assuredly a strong tropical storm coming. And the ground was soaked. All thoughts of the game were gone.
“Danielle, I’m going in to the office. I should be home in time for supper.”
“Bruce? Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Yes it is. At the moment. But there are some weather related things I want to study up on, just in case.”
“Very well. Is there anything the kids and I should be doing?”
“Just enjoying the game, Sweetheart.” Bruce kissed Danielle and headed for the front door.
Bruce was headed for City Hall, but changed routes in mid course. There was a set of operations plans in his office, but that was about all there was in City Hall that he could use. The EOC had what he needed. He headed for the edge of town where the facility was located, on the highest ground in the area.
He smiled as he pulled into the parking area of the EOC. “You did good, Bruce,” he said softly. “Even if I do say so myself.” Bruce looked over the rather featureless exterior of the EOC proper. It was totally earth mounded, with baffled entryway. Very little to see.
That didn’t include the rest of the compound, despite Bruce’s efforts to make it so. He’d managed to get money to include some other emergency services facilities with the EOC. Actually, without them in the plan, he never would have been able to sell the EOC plan.
There was a three bay fire station, two bay SAR station, and a single bay for one of the two ambulances the city owned outright. Most of the ambulance service for the city and county were private contractors.
Bruce, diverting his path again, headed for the open bay door of the fire station. “Hey! Bruce! You sure got us a nice place here. Thanks.”
There were several similar comments from the fire fighters, SAR people, and the EMTs. Bruce shook hands all around. No one asked why he was at the facility. He’d been a regular visitor all through the construction phase and initial set up.
“Need to go check a couple of things,” Bruce finally said and headed for the direct entrance from the building into the EOC. He carefully closed the airlock door behind him and then opened the door on the EOC side of the airlock.
Every entrance to the EOC was the same. There were three of them. A primary entrance, this one, and an emergency entry/exit on the far side of the EOC. The EOC wasn’t just air-tight, with a CBRNE overpressure HVAC system, it was protected against an electromagnetic pulse event, as well. Even with the earth sheltering, the reinforced concrete walls contained copper mesh that was well grounded.
Every penetration into the EOC, and there weren’t many, had EMP protection. Wires, cables, pipes, everything, was in metallic conduit that was also grounded. The electrical and electronic lines had protective devices on them.
The radio system transmitters and receivers, and the computer servers were inside an even more EMP proof room. The ventilation system had an EMP baffle in the intake, as did the exhaust. All the wires had another set of protective devices protecting them, even though they were also encased in metallic conduit from the appropriate radio dispatch location and computer terminal.
Even the generator room was protected with the copper mesh in the walls, and wiring in conduits, with electrical and electronic protection on every possible weak point. And there were plenty of spare computer chips, pre-flashed with the appropriate programming.
If there was a likely possibility of an EMP/HEMP event, the outside electric feed would be disconnected and the EOC would go on generator power.
In a like manner, the multiple transmit and receive antennas for the EOC were protected. They were even disconnected when not needed. And for physical protection, five of the six telescoping, fold-over antenna towers were kept retracted, though not folded over. When folded the antennas were almost on the ground, and despite security on the site, were vulnerable to vandalism. Only the primary tower with the in-use antennas was deployed.
“Hey Mags,” Bruce said to the receptionist sitting behind the information desk.
“What are you doing here on a Sunday, Bruce?”
“You know me. Always something to check on and keep track of.”
“You work too hard.”
“Never too hard. Maybe too much at times,” Bruce replied with a laugh. “I’ll be in my office or the situation room if I’m needed.”
“Something up I should know about?” Mags asked.
“No. Not yet.” Bruce went through the door that opened to the hallway to the offices. He stopped long enough to stick his head into the communications room. The three dispatchers on duty waved to him, though none said anything. The dispatching situation had been both a positive aspect of getting the center built, as well as a negative.
None of the agencies wanted to give up their own dispatch facility. If any of them could be called a facility. But a compromise had been worked out. The independent systems would remain in place, used during weekday day shift operations. But evening and night shift, weekends, and during activation of the center in an emergency, all dispatching for the county and city would be from the EOC.
The systems actually acted as back up to each other, so there was redundancy in one of the most important areas of disaster management. Communications.
Bruce waved back, closed the door and went further down the hallway, and into his office. It was one of several on this hallway. On one side of his office was the situation room where an event was tracked and to which all information flowed.
Next to it was one of the three conference rooms where options were discussed and decisions made. A large window with blinds on it gave a view of the situation room. Another office on the hallway was the Facility Manager’s office. Jim Jamison was responsible for the facility itself, and had only peripheral input during disasters. The Mayor’s emergency office, and that of the County Executive were nearby on the same hallway. There were offices shared by various department heads for the city and county, and two spare offices for use by various people that might have need of one during an emergency. Primarily higher level government officials.
An inveterate hat wearer, Bruce hung up his wide brimmed fedora beside the hard hat already on the coat tree. He went immediately to the large bookcase on one wall of the office and took down two Plan Books. One on Hurricane Events, and one on Flood Events.
With only a couple of breaks to check the Weather Channel on the TV in his office, Bruce went over the two plan books in detail. He wanted a fresh working knowledge of their contents, though the books were also checklists that would be followed in case of either of the events.
A few hours later, satisfied that he would be able to respond as quickly as possible if the hurricane, or remnants of one, created a flood situation in the area, Bruce closed the books and put them back on the shelf. There was a set in the Mayor’s and County Executive’s offices, the situation room, and the main conference room.
Bruce put his hat back on and started for the exit, but decided to look over the rest of the facility before he left. He just enjoyed seeing the fruits of his labors over the last five years. It was quite an accomplishment. He had not been alone in getting it done, but he had been the driving force behind it.
The business operations room was quiet, the printers and copy machines and various other office equipment standing ready, LEDs glowing brightly in the darkness.
Bruce went through the rather tedious task of opening up the Faraday Room that contained the major electronics the EOC used. The copper sheeting shined when he turned on the lights. A quick look at more LEDs indicating everything was ready for use and he closed up the room, making sure the electrical gasket sealed property on the door.
The kitchen was ready for use to supply EOC personnel food in the case of a long stay. The dining room was just as ready. The four restrooms in the facility, and the two locker rooms were pristine, and the duty personnel sleeping quarters were dark and quiet. One of the dispatchers was getting a cup of coffee in the lounge. Bruce nodded and moved on.
The medical room was ready for any medical problem for those working in the EOC. The security room, that had the monitoring systems for the physical security of the entire facility, was dark. Bruce hoped there would never be a need for the room, but it was ready, and a security team would be assembled and on hand if the situation dictated it.
The media lounge was dark. It was there to have a place for media people to be close at hand, but out of the way, since they would invariably be some that wanted the news straight from the horse’s mouth.
There had been a bit of resistance to the use of the space for non-EOC personnel, but again Bruce’s reasoning had convinced the skeptics. Better to keep the media corralled than running loose through the EOC. They had access only to the front entrance, reception, the lounge, and the briefing room, where they would get the information as the Public Information Officer, and/or the Mayor, County Executive, and other department heads were available to provide it.
A quick look in the field equipment storage rooms showed that everything in them was ready to go.
His last stop before going out to the parking lot was the double doors that led from the EOC to the Shelter Area. It was an airlock entry. Bruce knew the layout down below by heart, so he decided not to go down. But he did go out and check the primary entrance to the shelter that the general population would use in case of emergency.
Bruce paused at the three sets of wide double doors that comprised the main airlock entry to the shelter. They opened into a large area with an identical set of doors. Two sets of the inner doors opened to stairs that led down into the decontamination area of the shelter. The third set of doors gave access to a ramp for the mobility impaired, and to use when moving things in and out of the shelter on hand carts and the like.
The large shelter had been another hard sell, until Bruce hammered home two facts. One, that though the duty personnel would be safe and sound in the EOC during an event, their families would be unprotected, unless they had extensive personal preparations. Bruce knew without a doubt that no more than one or two others besides himself had the means to get through a real disaster on their own.
The second point, driven home was that it would be political suicide if the city built a shelter strictly for the families of city personnel. So he got his wish to incorporate shelter space for three hundred people.
With the awareness he created, Bruce had also managed to get shelter space surveyed and set up in many of the suitable buildings in the city, much like the old Civil Defense Shelter Program. Not enough for every city resident, but more than the city had before Bruce’s involvement.
The fact that there was a growing awareness of major disasters, and the inability of government to take care of all the people the way things were, was the reason the sheltering program had gone more easily than Bruce thought it would, after the initial resistance.
Daniele had a late supper ready for Bruce when he got home. “You are too good to me, you know,” he said, giving her a quick kiss before sitting down at the dining room table.
“Naw. I just love you, is all.”
“And I you.”
Bruce hadn’t been in his office in the EOC for long Monday morning when it became evident from the weather reports that the area was going to be in for more heavy rains, long before the ground would have a chance to dry out.
“Mr. Mayor,” Bruce said after dialing the mayor’s office in City Hall. “We’re looking at probable flooding in the area in a few days.”
“Yeah? So handle it.”
Bruce slowly set the telephone receiver down. Sam Grossman was in one of his moods, apparently. There was an ongoing undercurrent of hostility since the building of the EOC. There were times when Sam didn’t want to be bothered with details, but jealously guarded his authority.
“How many times have I told him that he’s the boss? I can only do what he and the City Council decide should be done.”
It was an on-going battle. Mayor Grossman and County Executive Banks both had a tendency to leave things to Bruce that were their responsibility, if they were linked in some way to emergency preparedness.
Bruce was another Department head, just like the Chief of Police and Fire Department Chief. He did have a small cadre under his direct command, but the bulk of any major action would be carried out by the members of other departments. Departments that reported to the Mayor.
Bruce shook his head again. He’d make sure what needed to be done was done, but he was going to have to have another meeting with the Mayor to straighten out the chain of command. Despite the fact that many Emergency Services Coordinators would love to have full control of the government during a disaster, it simply wasn’t the way things were officially set up.
Bruce thought that one of the factors complicating the matter was that the EOC was on the edge of town. Normally, an EOC should be situated with the City offices. But the old City Hall was in a bad spot, emergency wise, and not in very good shape physically. So the decision had been made to locate the EOC where it was. But the physical distance sometimes seemed to interfere with the smooth coordination of tasks.
Putting those thoughts out of his mind for the moment, Bruce began the tedious task of checking inventory lists for the equipment and supplies likely to be needed in the very near future. Of key importance would be sandbags and sand to fill them with.
A call to the city maintenance yard confirmed the presence of plenty of sand. But a big dent had been made in the number of sandbags still in stock. Several projects had used sandbags for shoring while working on some underground utilities.
Bruce filled out a requisition, with a rush notice and sent it over to the City Purchasing Department. He had some training scheduled, so gathered up the things he would need and headed for the hospital.
The next morning it became obvious there was going to be a problem. The hurricane was huge. It was soaking the coast and blowing some of it away with the high winds. The winds weren’t too bad in the county, but the rain was torrential.
“Mayor Grossman, I’d like to activate the EOC for this impending emergency.” Bruce held the phone close to his ear. There was a great deal of background noise on the Mayor’s end of the telephone.
“Yes. Yes. Go ahead,” the Mayor said after a few seconds. “I’ll be available by phone if you need me.”
“Mayor Grossman, I’d like you to come out and get a briefing so you’ll know what is going on.”
“It’s raining. Even an idiot can see that. Just keep an eye on things. I doubt we’ll have much trouble. We just had a lot of rain and didn’t get any flooding.”
“But that’s just…” The Mayor had hung up the phone. “it,” Bruce finished his thought. “With that previous rain, we are going to have flooding.” Bruce sighed and looked at the door of his office without seeing it. “Politicians! Bah!”
Bruce rose from behind his desk and went out to the secretarial space shared by the offices on this hallway.
“Yes, Boss?” asked Glenda Stephens, the senior secretary of the five person office staff the EOC boasted. “We’re going to alert status, Glenda. Let everyone know. I’m going up to talk to Mags. I’ll let her know.”
“Consider it done.” Glenda was already reaching for the telephone receiver and the call list.
Bruce went to the reception area to talk to Mags Bohannen. “Mags,” Bruce said, “This is our first real event. There is going to be a lot of confusion. People, especially outsiders, aren’t going to know what to do or where to go. The media is bound to show. They are not allowed anywhere but the media lounge.
“They all had their chance to tour the facility. They won’t be getting one during this. You may have to be firm. Call Jim up front if you need some help.”
“Okay, Bruce. Is it going to get bad?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Bruce said. “But that hurricane isn’t over by a long shot. We’re almost sure to get some flooding.”
Mags nodded. “I’ll bring a bag in tomorrow.”
“That’s the spirit.” Bruce sighed. “Need to go call CE Banks. Wish me luck.”
Mags smiled, but didn’t say anything.
Back in his office, Bruce picked up the telephone again and dialed the County Offices over in the next city. “Need to speak with Mr. Banks. This is Bruce Klepper.”
Bruce had to wait almost ten minutes, listing to bad background music, before the County Executive came on line. “What is it? I don’t have much time.”
“I just want to alert you that the Mayor activated the EOC in response to the probable flooding the county will get from the hurricane.”
“Hurricanes don’t come this far inland!”
“Maybe or maybe not. But you can see the rain for yourself. You know how wet the ground already is.”
“Yes. I suppose so. Keep me informed.” CE Banks hung up.
“Two up, two down,” Bruce muttered. He went back to reception, going into area behind the reception counter. Those assigned to be at the EOC when it was activated began to drift in, most of them muttering about the disruption of their day. But each one was shaking off the rain from their coats as they came in and were greeted by Bruce.
“What’s going on, Bruce?” asked Michelle Grooms. She was the hospital liaison.
“Possible flooding event.”
“Oh. That I can see. Why do you need me?”
“Could be more complicated, depending on whether or not the hurricane maintains its force as it comes this way. Just precautionary for now.”
“Okay. But turn us loose as soon as you can.”
Bruce nodded. There were more like comments that Bruce let slide off his back. He left reception and went to the situation room.
Tom Jacobson was already at his desk, controlling the various computer monitors. He would make ready any maps, charts, or anything else asked for by those in the room in decision making positions.
Sally Rue was also at her position near the head of the long conference table. She was the link between the communications section and those in the situation room. She would pass on any information she received, and link the speakers and microphones in the situation room to the dispatch consoles as needed.
“Bring up the Weather Channel, Tom,” Bruce said, moving over to lean against the table. The wide screen came to life and there was the hurricane, in all its glory, on the screen from a space camera.
Copyright 2010
Bruce Klepper sighed and hung up the white hard hat on the coat rack beside the door. It was going to be a long day. But a good one. Bruce flipped the light switch in the darkness of the windowless room. The LED lighting fixtures didn’t quite turn night into day, but they provided plenty of light. “And save the taxpayers a bundle on electrical costs for this place,” Bruce thought to himself.
The LED fixtures were one of the more minor of the attributes Bruce was able to get included in the just finished EOC for the small city where he’d been born and grew up. He’d left it for college, but returned, got married, and went to work for the city in the public works department.
But Bruce continued his education, taking classes in a subject near and dear to his heart. Emergency Management. He came from a long line of preppers, starting with his great-grandfather, who saw World War II coming long before most, and prepared for the hardships it would bring, even to the US.
Through World War II, the Korean Police Action, and the subsequent Cold War and Vietnam there was nothing to indicate the actions that the Klepper family continued to take since Great-Grandfather started it all were needless.
Bruce continued the tradition with his family. They were about as prepared as a family could get. But Bruce’s interests went further than his family’s survival in the trying times of the New Millennium. He wanted civilization and society to continue, no matter what happened.
So his interest in Emergency Management, to help as many people as possible, come what may. And it was coming to fruition. His appointment to City Emergency Management Coordinator for the city five years previously.
He was a little disappointed in the lack of success of some of his programs. Programs that promoted individual and family preparations. Though there was some interest, and follow through, even the near continuous series of disasters around the world did little to encourage people to prepare on their own.
Considering the happenings in the aftermath of Katrina, where the actions of FEMA and DHS, and other government agencies down the line showed how weak the system was to provide for the immediate needs of victims of a disaster, Bruce had thought people would prepare on their own.
But that event actually helped Bruce in a way. People seemed to want to be taken care of, no matter what, and the deficiencies in response highlighted by Katrina resulted in a minor up swell of interest in government sponsored emergency management activities.
Even with the interest, it had taken a bond issue, small special tax, public donations, several grants from as many agencies, and a large contribution from DHS and FEMA to get done what Bruce wanted for the city and county.
The new Emergency Operations Center he was now in was a big part of it, but not all. There was also the advanced training he’d managed to get many of the city, and with the help of his county based counterpart, county employees to take.
Just as importantly, the involvement of much of the city government was achieved. There had been some resistance. More than a little, from a few people in the city government. And there was some resentment from county officials, as well as city officials, that the EOC was to serve the county as well as the city, due to the government money that was accepted on that stipulation.
Today was the day. The ribbon cutting ceremony was just a few hours away. Bruce had come in early to go through the Center one last time before it became officially operational. It was his baby, and he wanted things to be perfect for the ceremony and the tours of the facility that would go with it. The people in the area had spent hard earned dollars to get the facility and Bruce had no problem with all those that might want to see where their money went getting a firsthand look.
The walk-through finished, Bruce sat down behind his desk and began rehearsing the speech he dreaded making, but had to do as part of his job. He’d made plenty of others, but this one was special.
“Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, for your attendance today. Feel free to join in any of the tours of the facility that are just about to start.”
Bruce smiled and shook hands with politicos and civilians alike. The Mayor’s and County Executive’s speeches had both been long and more political than anything else. But that was okay. The huge scissors had cut the red ribbon with ease, and now, after just a few more handshakes and he could seek some solitude in the Center.
Only it didn’t quite work out that way. Sam Grossman, the Mayor, and the County Executive, Broady Banks, wanted a private tour. Though both had signed off on the plans, and had turned a shovel of dirt at the inaugural building ceremony, neither had visited the site since.
Bruce looked up when a cloud suddenly obscured the sun. A chill went down his back despite the warmth of the late summer day. “Very well, Gentleman. This way,” Bruce said and led the way toward the entrance of the building. “How is George doing?”
George Blainmartain, Bruce’s counterpart at the County level, had been in an automobile accident two months previously and was still in the hospital.
“Not well,” Broady replied. “As much as I hate to, I’m going to need to appoint an interim Coordinator. Julie Bell just can’t handle it.”
Bruce kept his mouth shut. He knew Julie. Had dated her a few times years ago. Broady didn’t like working with women. He put the situation out of his mind and continued the tour.
Two hours later, with his ears still ringing from the protests of Broady and Sam at how much money had been spent on such an elaborate facility, now that they’d seen it, Bruce again hung up his hard hat in his small office and sat down behind the desk.
They could complain all they wanted. The EOC was a fact now. It would be only a matter of time before the value of the facility would be obvious. Bruce just didn’t know how soon that time would come.
EOC – A Vignette
It had been a week since the opening of the EOC. A week without sunshine. That lone cloud on the day of the opening had grown to cover the sky, bringing a little rain that evening. But as the days progressed, the weather system began to dump record amounts of rain on the area.
Bruce monitored the weather closely, and got rather reluctantly given hourly reports from all the city services about possible flooding situations. Things were getting close, but not to the point that Bruce felt recommending that the Mayor activate the EOC.
He was glad he didn’t when the weather broke and things began to get back to normal. Except the ground was at the point of saturation. Bruce was well aware that had the rain not stopped when it did, there would have been minor flooding.
The Sunday after the rain quit, Bruce was watching football with his wife and two children. When halftime came, as was his usual practice, while the others got snacks or went to the bathroom, Bruce switched the TV to the Weather Channel for a quick update. What he saw had him sitting up straight in his chair. There was a tropical depression developing in the Atlantic, and the projections on its future path put the city right in the center of cone of probability.
Yes, the city wasn’t very close to the coast, but hurricanes had swung up this far in the past. A long time past. But Bruce had studied the weather history of the area and knew that getting, at the very least, a strong storm system in the area from the remains of a hurricane was possible. Even probable. In the past that had not been a problem.
Bruce felt that tickle of warning he got when facts began to connect in his brain. A possible hurricane, almost assuredly a strong tropical storm coming. And the ground was soaked. All thoughts of the game were gone.
“Danielle, I’m going in to the office. I should be home in time for supper.”
“Bruce? Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Yes it is. At the moment. But there are some weather related things I want to study up on, just in case.”
“Very well. Is there anything the kids and I should be doing?”
“Just enjoying the game, Sweetheart.” Bruce kissed Danielle and headed for the front door.
Bruce was headed for City Hall, but changed routes in mid course. There was a set of operations plans in his office, but that was about all there was in City Hall that he could use. The EOC had what he needed. He headed for the edge of town where the facility was located, on the highest ground in the area.
He smiled as he pulled into the parking area of the EOC. “You did good, Bruce,” he said softly. “Even if I do say so myself.” Bruce looked over the rather featureless exterior of the EOC proper. It was totally earth mounded, with baffled entryway. Very little to see.
That didn’t include the rest of the compound, despite Bruce’s efforts to make it so. He’d managed to get money to include some other emergency services facilities with the EOC. Actually, without them in the plan, he never would have been able to sell the EOC plan.
There was a three bay fire station, two bay SAR station, and a single bay for one of the two ambulances the city owned outright. Most of the ambulance service for the city and county were private contractors.
Bruce, diverting his path again, headed for the open bay door of the fire station. “Hey! Bruce! You sure got us a nice place here. Thanks.”
There were several similar comments from the fire fighters, SAR people, and the EMTs. Bruce shook hands all around. No one asked why he was at the facility. He’d been a regular visitor all through the construction phase and initial set up.
“Need to go check a couple of things,” Bruce finally said and headed for the direct entrance from the building into the EOC. He carefully closed the airlock door behind him and then opened the door on the EOC side of the airlock.
Every entrance to the EOC was the same. There were three of them. A primary entrance, this one, and an emergency entry/exit on the far side of the EOC. The EOC wasn’t just air-tight, with a CBRNE overpressure HVAC system, it was protected against an electromagnetic pulse event, as well. Even with the earth sheltering, the reinforced concrete walls contained copper mesh that was well grounded.
Every penetration into the EOC, and there weren’t many, had EMP protection. Wires, cables, pipes, everything, was in metallic conduit that was also grounded. The electrical and electronic lines had protective devices on them.
The radio system transmitters and receivers, and the computer servers were inside an even more EMP proof room. The ventilation system had an EMP baffle in the intake, as did the exhaust. All the wires had another set of protective devices protecting them, even though they were also encased in metallic conduit from the appropriate radio dispatch location and computer terminal.
Even the generator room was protected with the copper mesh in the walls, and wiring in conduits, with electrical and electronic protection on every possible weak point. And there were plenty of spare computer chips, pre-flashed with the appropriate programming.
If there was a likely possibility of an EMP/HEMP event, the outside electric feed would be disconnected and the EOC would go on generator power.
In a like manner, the multiple transmit and receive antennas for the EOC were protected. They were even disconnected when not needed. And for physical protection, five of the six telescoping, fold-over antenna towers were kept retracted, though not folded over. When folded the antennas were almost on the ground, and despite security on the site, were vulnerable to vandalism. Only the primary tower with the in-use antennas was deployed.
“Hey Mags,” Bruce said to the receptionist sitting behind the information desk.
“What are you doing here on a Sunday, Bruce?”
“You know me. Always something to check on and keep track of.”
“You work too hard.”
“Never too hard. Maybe too much at times,” Bruce replied with a laugh. “I’ll be in my office or the situation room if I’m needed.”
“Something up I should know about?” Mags asked.
“No. Not yet.” Bruce went through the door that opened to the hallway to the offices. He stopped long enough to stick his head into the communications room. The three dispatchers on duty waved to him, though none said anything. The dispatching situation had been both a positive aspect of getting the center built, as well as a negative.
None of the agencies wanted to give up their own dispatch facility. If any of them could be called a facility. But a compromise had been worked out. The independent systems would remain in place, used during weekday day shift operations. But evening and night shift, weekends, and during activation of the center in an emergency, all dispatching for the county and city would be from the EOC.
The systems actually acted as back up to each other, so there was redundancy in one of the most important areas of disaster management. Communications.
Bruce waved back, closed the door and went further down the hallway, and into his office. It was one of several on this hallway. On one side of his office was the situation room where an event was tracked and to which all information flowed.
Next to it was one of the three conference rooms where options were discussed and decisions made. A large window with blinds on it gave a view of the situation room. Another office on the hallway was the Facility Manager’s office. Jim Jamison was responsible for the facility itself, and had only peripheral input during disasters. The Mayor’s emergency office, and that of the County Executive were nearby on the same hallway. There were offices shared by various department heads for the city and county, and two spare offices for use by various people that might have need of one during an emergency. Primarily higher level government officials.
An inveterate hat wearer, Bruce hung up his wide brimmed fedora beside the hard hat already on the coat tree. He went immediately to the large bookcase on one wall of the office and took down two Plan Books. One on Hurricane Events, and one on Flood Events.
With only a couple of breaks to check the Weather Channel on the TV in his office, Bruce went over the two plan books in detail. He wanted a fresh working knowledge of their contents, though the books were also checklists that would be followed in case of either of the events.
A few hours later, satisfied that he would be able to respond as quickly as possible if the hurricane, or remnants of one, created a flood situation in the area, Bruce closed the books and put them back on the shelf. There was a set in the Mayor’s and County Executive’s offices, the situation room, and the main conference room.
Bruce put his hat back on and started for the exit, but decided to look over the rest of the facility before he left. He just enjoyed seeing the fruits of his labors over the last five years. It was quite an accomplishment. He had not been alone in getting it done, but he had been the driving force behind it.
The business operations room was quiet, the printers and copy machines and various other office equipment standing ready, LEDs glowing brightly in the darkness.
Bruce went through the rather tedious task of opening up the Faraday Room that contained the major electronics the EOC used. The copper sheeting shined when he turned on the lights. A quick look at more LEDs indicating everything was ready for use and he closed up the room, making sure the electrical gasket sealed property on the door.
The kitchen was ready for use to supply EOC personnel food in the case of a long stay. The dining room was just as ready. The four restrooms in the facility, and the two locker rooms were pristine, and the duty personnel sleeping quarters were dark and quiet. One of the dispatchers was getting a cup of coffee in the lounge. Bruce nodded and moved on.
The medical room was ready for any medical problem for those working in the EOC. The security room, that had the monitoring systems for the physical security of the entire facility, was dark. Bruce hoped there would never be a need for the room, but it was ready, and a security team would be assembled and on hand if the situation dictated it.
The media lounge was dark. It was there to have a place for media people to be close at hand, but out of the way, since they would invariably be some that wanted the news straight from the horse’s mouth.
There had been a bit of resistance to the use of the space for non-EOC personnel, but again Bruce’s reasoning had convinced the skeptics. Better to keep the media corralled than running loose through the EOC. They had access only to the front entrance, reception, the lounge, and the briefing room, where they would get the information as the Public Information Officer, and/or the Mayor, County Executive, and other department heads were available to provide it.
A quick look in the field equipment storage rooms showed that everything in them was ready to go.
His last stop before going out to the parking lot was the double doors that led from the EOC to the Shelter Area. It was an airlock entry. Bruce knew the layout down below by heart, so he decided not to go down. But he did go out and check the primary entrance to the shelter that the general population would use in case of emergency.
Bruce paused at the three sets of wide double doors that comprised the main airlock entry to the shelter. They opened into a large area with an identical set of doors. Two sets of the inner doors opened to stairs that led down into the decontamination area of the shelter. The third set of doors gave access to a ramp for the mobility impaired, and to use when moving things in and out of the shelter on hand carts and the like.
The large shelter had been another hard sell, until Bruce hammered home two facts. One, that though the duty personnel would be safe and sound in the EOC during an event, their families would be unprotected, unless they had extensive personal preparations. Bruce knew without a doubt that no more than one or two others besides himself had the means to get through a real disaster on their own.
The second point, driven home was that it would be political suicide if the city built a shelter strictly for the families of city personnel. So he got his wish to incorporate shelter space for three hundred people.
With the awareness he created, Bruce had also managed to get shelter space surveyed and set up in many of the suitable buildings in the city, much like the old Civil Defense Shelter Program. Not enough for every city resident, but more than the city had before Bruce’s involvement.
The fact that there was a growing awareness of major disasters, and the inability of government to take care of all the people the way things were, was the reason the sheltering program had gone more easily than Bruce thought it would, after the initial resistance.
Daniele had a late supper ready for Bruce when he got home. “You are too good to me, you know,” he said, giving her a quick kiss before sitting down at the dining room table.
“Naw. I just love you, is all.”
“And I you.”
Bruce hadn’t been in his office in the EOC for long Monday morning when it became evident from the weather reports that the area was going to be in for more heavy rains, long before the ground would have a chance to dry out.
“Mr. Mayor,” Bruce said after dialing the mayor’s office in City Hall. “We’re looking at probable flooding in the area in a few days.”
“Yeah? So handle it.”
Bruce slowly set the telephone receiver down. Sam Grossman was in one of his moods, apparently. There was an ongoing undercurrent of hostility since the building of the EOC. There were times when Sam didn’t want to be bothered with details, but jealously guarded his authority.
“How many times have I told him that he’s the boss? I can only do what he and the City Council decide should be done.”
It was an on-going battle. Mayor Grossman and County Executive Banks both had a tendency to leave things to Bruce that were their responsibility, if they were linked in some way to emergency preparedness.
Bruce was another Department head, just like the Chief of Police and Fire Department Chief. He did have a small cadre under his direct command, but the bulk of any major action would be carried out by the members of other departments. Departments that reported to the Mayor.
Bruce shook his head again. He’d make sure what needed to be done was done, but he was going to have to have another meeting with the Mayor to straighten out the chain of command. Despite the fact that many Emergency Services Coordinators would love to have full control of the government during a disaster, it simply wasn’t the way things were officially set up.
Bruce thought that one of the factors complicating the matter was that the EOC was on the edge of town. Normally, an EOC should be situated with the City offices. But the old City Hall was in a bad spot, emergency wise, and not in very good shape physically. So the decision had been made to locate the EOC where it was. But the physical distance sometimes seemed to interfere with the smooth coordination of tasks.
Putting those thoughts out of his mind for the moment, Bruce began the tedious task of checking inventory lists for the equipment and supplies likely to be needed in the very near future. Of key importance would be sandbags and sand to fill them with.
A call to the city maintenance yard confirmed the presence of plenty of sand. But a big dent had been made in the number of sandbags still in stock. Several projects had used sandbags for shoring while working on some underground utilities.
Bruce filled out a requisition, with a rush notice and sent it over to the City Purchasing Department. He had some training scheduled, so gathered up the things he would need and headed for the hospital.
The next morning it became obvious there was going to be a problem. The hurricane was huge. It was soaking the coast and blowing some of it away with the high winds. The winds weren’t too bad in the county, but the rain was torrential.
“Mayor Grossman, I’d like to activate the EOC for this impending emergency.” Bruce held the phone close to his ear. There was a great deal of background noise on the Mayor’s end of the telephone.
“Yes. Yes. Go ahead,” the Mayor said after a few seconds. “I’ll be available by phone if you need me.”
“Mayor Grossman, I’d like you to come out and get a briefing so you’ll know what is going on.”
“It’s raining. Even an idiot can see that. Just keep an eye on things. I doubt we’ll have much trouble. We just had a lot of rain and didn’t get any flooding.”
“But that’s just…” The Mayor had hung up the phone. “it,” Bruce finished his thought. “With that previous rain, we are going to have flooding.” Bruce sighed and looked at the door of his office without seeing it. “Politicians! Bah!”
Bruce rose from behind his desk and went out to the secretarial space shared by the offices on this hallway.
“Yes, Boss?” asked Glenda Stephens, the senior secretary of the five person office staff the EOC boasted. “We’re going to alert status, Glenda. Let everyone know. I’m going up to talk to Mags. I’ll let her know.”
“Consider it done.” Glenda was already reaching for the telephone receiver and the call list.
Bruce went to the reception area to talk to Mags Bohannen. “Mags,” Bruce said, “This is our first real event. There is going to be a lot of confusion. People, especially outsiders, aren’t going to know what to do or where to go. The media is bound to show. They are not allowed anywhere but the media lounge.
“They all had their chance to tour the facility. They won’t be getting one during this. You may have to be firm. Call Jim up front if you need some help.”
“Okay, Bruce. Is it going to get bad?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Bruce said. “But that hurricane isn’t over by a long shot. We’re almost sure to get some flooding.”
Mags nodded. “I’ll bring a bag in tomorrow.”
“That’s the spirit.” Bruce sighed. “Need to go call CE Banks. Wish me luck.”
Mags smiled, but didn’t say anything.
Back in his office, Bruce picked up the telephone again and dialed the County Offices over in the next city. “Need to speak with Mr. Banks. This is Bruce Klepper.”
Bruce had to wait almost ten minutes, listing to bad background music, before the County Executive came on line. “What is it? I don’t have much time.”
“I just want to alert you that the Mayor activated the EOC in response to the probable flooding the county will get from the hurricane.”
“Hurricanes don’t come this far inland!”
“Maybe or maybe not. But you can see the rain for yourself. You know how wet the ground already is.”
“Yes. I suppose so. Keep me informed.” CE Banks hung up.
“Two up, two down,” Bruce muttered. He went back to reception, going into area behind the reception counter. Those assigned to be at the EOC when it was activated began to drift in, most of them muttering about the disruption of their day. But each one was shaking off the rain from their coats as they came in and were greeted by Bruce.
“What’s going on, Bruce?” asked Michelle Grooms. She was the hospital liaison.
“Possible flooding event.”
“Oh. That I can see. Why do you need me?”
“Could be more complicated, depending on whether or not the hurricane maintains its force as it comes this way. Just precautionary for now.”
“Okay. But turn us loose as soon as you can.”
Bruce nodded. There were more like comments that Bruce let slide off his back. He left reception and went to the situation room.
Tom Jacobson was already at his desk, controlling the various computer monitors. He would make ready any maps, charts, or anything else asked for by those in the room in decision making positions.
Sally Rue was also at her position near the head of the long conference table. She was the link between the communications section and those in the situation room. She would pass on any information she received, and link the speakers and microphones in the situation room to the dispatch consoles as needed.
“Bring up the Weather Channel, Tom,” Bruce said, moving over to lean against the table. The wide screen came to life and there was the hurricane, in all its glory, on the screen from a space camera.
Copyright 2010
