What's the evacuation plan? There is no plan
Coda
Greg Bean

About 20 years ago, it dawned on people in northern Massachusetts that if the Seabrook nuclear power plant near the border of that state and New Hampshire melted down, or if there were a bad hurricane or other disaster, people were pretty much S.O.L. because there was absolutely no evacuation plan.

The Seabrook plant sits right on the ocean in the little town of the same name, an area serviced by a network of narrow roads and slightly larger highways that are congested on most normal days during the summer, but would be a nightmare if everyone tried to get out at once.

Not only was there no overall emergency plan at the federal or state levels, there were no local plans in the 20 or so communities that surround Seabrook.

I was working at a newspaper about two miles from the nuclear plant at the time and it was more than a little scary. On a light traffic day, it took me about 20 minutes to get out of Hampton Beach, where the office was, to the main highway heading south to my home in Massachusetts. But according to the experts, people would have to be notified within 15 minutes after an incident at the plant and be in the process of evacuating immediately to have much hope of survival.

It wouldn't work, and everyone knew it. So the newspapers and environmental groups went loopy, demanding that someone come up with a better plan, one that included the participation of cops and emergency organizations in all the towns evacuees might pass through, and a better way of letting people know there was a problem in the first place, and what to do within the first minutes of trouble.

Needless to say, it's almost impossible to come up with a plan like that, but they tried. And this week was the biennial test of the notification and evacuation plan, one that lots of people still call "crazy" because there's just no way the roads would handle the traffic, and officials are still - 20 years later - squabbling about which version of the plan should be followed.

But at least they have a plan, even if it's a bad one.

Which is more than you can say about New Jersey, where the cold, hard fact is that if there's a real emergency - a bad hurricane, a chemical spill, an accident at a nuclear plant, or some terrorist setting off a dirty bomb in New York City - it's gonna be every man for himself.

Last week, a reporter for The Hub, one of the Greater Media Newspapers family that covers Red Bank and the shore area of Monmouth County (an area very similar to the area that would be endangered by a meltdown at Seabrook), tried to find out about the area's evacuation plan, if there was one.

Here's what she discovered:

+ The coordinator of the county's Office of Emergency Management says the freeholders are trying to secure funding from the state for a study that will evaluate evacuation routes.

+ There are 76 little blue signs on various roadways (we had to look for a couple of days to find one for a photograph) directing evacuation route traffic.

+ There is a shelter plan set up where people can stop along the way stop for first aid or other emergency services (they did not provide a list of shelters).

+ People can turn on their radios for information (no specific frequencies were reported).

+ People should look on page 38 of the phone book for emergency information (there are no phone numbers or emergency radio frequencies listed in most books).

+ People should generally evacuate in a westerly direction, and anticipate traffic congestion.

+ It will take about 29 hours to evacuate Monmouth County (no word on surrounding counties).

Man, I don't know about you, but I feel so much better now. At least I know who I can depend on if an emergency requiring evacuation arises, and it's the guy I see looking back at me in the mirror every morning when I shave.

What our reporter learned is that in reality, there is no comprehensive plan, not even a "crazy" plan like the one they have for Seabrook. In 13 years of newspapering in this state, I can't recall a single press release from any emergency management agency that might tell people what to do or where to turn for help in a real crisis.

There's been no communication from any town or government agency listing the locations of places that would be used as shelters in that crisis. There's never been a statement of where people can turn on their radio dials for up-to-date evacuation information. There's never been a discussion of which agencies would be in charge in that crisis, or how local police, fire and emergency services would dovetail their efforts into the overall plan.

Who would be responsible for controlling traffic, for instance? Where would people shelter if they are unable to evacuate? Specifically, who evacuates the elderly, or those who don't drive? Is there a plan for mass transportation? What are the alternate routes if the major highways are jammed? Who sticks around to see that our homes aren't looted while we're gone?

Maybe such plans exist, and I'm sure I'll hear from several emergency planners in the near future telling me that not only do the plans exist, they've been sitting on their desks for years.

But if they do exist (which I very seriously doubt), the crisis management planners in this state have done the world's worst job of getting the message out. And if a real emergency arises around here, the chaos and congestion on the roads will make the evacuations of the Gulf Coast during Katrina and Rita look like 3 a.m. on Main Street, Milltown.

We don't need an expensive study to evaluate evacuation routes and tell us that either, so the freeholders might as well save the money.

In an emergency, here are five things that will help. Pray regularly. Have a family plan on where you'll meet if there's a crisis. Keep a couple of maps in the car with several alternate evacuation routes marked. Keep an emergency kit in the trunk of the car with water, flashlight, radio, batteries, first-aid supplies, snacks, etc.

And leave early to avoid the rush.

Gregory Bean is executive editor of Greater Media Newspapers.