Three Things You’d Save in an Emergency
August 29th, 2008
I’m not a doom and gloom naysayer, but as many folks this summer can testify, floods, fires, and disasters are a fact of life. My heart goes out to folks who’ve been hit by disasters, and I feel lucky that I have time to create a plan. I’ve had to sit down and think about what’s actually important enough to save in case of emergency, and it was an eye-opening experience.
So today, I’d like to extend the question: what three non-essential things would you save in an emergency? Your family, friends, pets, and any medical needs are considered essential for this question, so we’ll assume you’ve already got those.
For me, I’d like to save:
- My bag of photographs. While I have digital copies of lots of these, there’s something about the crinkled and worn originals (especially the ones that go back a few generations) that’s magic for me.
- The external hard drive. It’s not so much the basic information, though that would helpful. It’s all years of writing, including the awful college poetry, that I would hate to lose.
- A pair of high heels. I know it’s ridiculous, but having something so frivolous would give me hope as I rebuilt and would be a physical connection to carefree times.
If I had anything that had serious heirloom significance, I would probably switch out the heels. At this point, though, none of that is at my house. Walking around and realizing that I had room to spare with a limit of three was a shocking feeling. I’ll be honest, it made me think two conflicting things: I’m so lucky to be so free, and Should I be concerned that I have nothing of value?
Well, I’ll leave the floor to you. What three non-essential things would you save in an emergency? Drop into the comments and let me hear your thoughts, or your stories if you’ve got any.
photo credit: futureshape









To everyone out there who suffers from allergies, I salute you. I never understood your suffering over a simple sniffle or watery eye. It seemed like much ado about… ragweed. But alas, the gods of schadenfreude have caught up to me, and I’m now a fellow allergy sufferer. I apologize for any lack of sympathy that may have been expressed up to this point and humbly beg your forgiveness.


