There are sealed cans of hard winter wheat in my storage room with handwritten labels from 1965. The shelves also hold half a case of old military C rations, some fossilized jerky, and a box of bullets for a firearm I cannot recall owning.
I inherited this stuff from my parents. It’s what remains of our two-year supply of food, as then taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
For years, we dragged bottled water and endless bags and cans of dehydrated food with us whenever we were transferred. I mostly remember the half-ton of wheat and the water causing the Old Man to curse when moving day came.
Food storage memories returned during a recent trip to the store for some yeast. My wife had decided to bake bread rather than making trips to buy something that perhaps no longer existed.
We share a home with a daughter, her husband and their three children. As the most expendable member of this collective, I’m the one who runs errands.
After cruising aisles of empty shelves, it occurred to me who was doing all the panic buying. Mormons.
Has to be us. No bread, milk, soup, diapers, baby food, powdered formula. Guess which shelves are full? Coffee, tea, beer, cigarettes.
I’m not saying that some Latter-day Saints don’t use these items. I am saying that these are essential items to some people — as anyone who can’t get through the morning without a cup of coffee will attest.
I also would say that even in an era of reduced family size, we’re still ones having more kids. It therefore makes sense that child-rearing essentials like diapers, formula, duct tape and Benadryl would be in short supply.
A lot of the panic buying, at least in Utah, could be attributed to Latter-day Saints who are suddenly consumed by guilt for not toeing the prophetic line to store food.
Ex- or currently nonaligned Mormons may be experiencing a knee-jerk reaction to youthful indoctrination presenting as an inexplicable need to behave like a squirrel in late autumn.
We’re lucky. A two-year supply is no longer the rule. Eventually, the counsel was reduced from two years to one year and then three months.
The logic behind the teaching became less preparation for the end days and more just for emergencies, even a sudden job loss.
Oh, and let’s not forget the 72-hour kits we’re supposed to have packed away in an easily accessible location should/when we experience the Big One (earthquake) that we’ve been told is long overdue.
This kit should be tailored to meet your family’s needs during that time period. How many disposable diapers do you use over the course of three days? Formula? Water? Diet Coke?
I won’t need any of that, but I do wonder how much caffeine, hydrocodone and electronic distraction I’ll need in a short-term disaster. Pretty sure I can get through just about anything with Netflix on hand.
Robert Kirby is The Salt Lake Tribune’s humor columnist. Follow Kirby on Facebook.
