(2018) 38 minutes

Long Story Short for Manila Standard

published 4 February 2018

IMAGINE spending 38 minutes believing the end is near.

Shortly after 8 in the morning on Saturday, January 13, people in Hawaii got a message on their phones that read: “BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

There should have been accompanying sirens, but with such a text message, and given the knowledge that North Korea was in fact developing missiles and threatening the world with them, nobody thought to stop and wonder why the sirens were not sounding.

The Internet is rife with stories about how residents and tourists reacted to the announcement. A couple on vacation, for instance, just started crying when they heard the emergency warning. There seemed to be no other option. “What could we do? There was nothing we can do with a missile,” Michael Sterling, a law firm employee in Los Angeles, told Reuters.

A 39-year-old father gathered his young children, grabbed some food and headed for a room with a rock wall.

The Hawaii state representative and his family crammed themselves into a bathtub, uttering prayers.

Frantic text messages were sent, telling families, friends, partners to seek shelter, to take care, and that they were loved.

On the road, people caught in traffic got out of their cars, running and looking at the sky. Some checked their devices looking for guidance on what to do in such a situation.

One father thought of driving to all the separate locations where his family members were, hoping to reach them in time, eventually deciding to go home to “the two little ones… I figured it was the largest grouping of my family.”

Thirty-eight minutes later, another message came through—it was a false alarm.

***

An investigation found that the confusion was caused by an employee at Hawaii’s Emergency Management Agency. Employee 1—as the worker is named in the reports—pushed the wrong button during a change in shifts. It appeared the worker believed the threat was real.

The midnight shift supervisor did say “EXERCISE, EXERCISE, EXERCISE,” which was proper, but also said “THIS IS NOT A DRILL” which was not in the script.

Other personnel did understand it was a drill, but not Employee 1 who was stationed at the alert origination terminal. According to the report, this worker had a reputation for ineptitude, and did not appear willing to correct his mistake. “Employee 1 was sitting and seemed confused. Employee 3 took control of Employee 1’s mouse and sent the cancel message. At no point did Employee 1 assist in the process of correcting the False Alert,” the report said.

EMA’s administrator, Vern Miyagi, has quit. Another worker has resigned, and a fourth has been suspended without pay.

***

Some residents reported feeling angry after the correction was announced, because it was announced too long after the mistake was committed, or because there was even a mistake in the first place.

We can imagine the horrors that went through people’s minds during those 38 harrowing minutes. What would we have done, when faced with the possibility that a missile would strike, and we could be gone in minutes?

Perhaps it’s a good whack-on-the-head exercise once in a while, to put us back in our place especially when we feel invincible and arrogant and self-important.

Perhaps then we would take a moment to stop and ask ourselves what we truly value, and what we are only distracted with.

We would also be reminded that in the end, everything passes, and even the things we think are monumental—overhearing an unkind remark, for instance, or missing a meeting because of heavy traffic, or being served the wrong dish at a restaurant, or even not getting enough likes for a social media post—are insignificant and do not really define us.

When we hear the announcement that the scare was only just that, a false alarm, and we can proceed with life as we know it, then we can begin to focus on the things that do matter, and that do define us. And, much later, when the equivalent of a legitimate missile alert does come, we will no longer fret we have not done enough, have left things unsaid, or that we have mess to sort out, or loose ends to tie. We can just sit back and embrace the horror—no, the peace—that is bound to come.

adellechua@gmail.com