From:
The Associated Press
A few years ago, Kathleen Breault was just another suburban
grandma, driving countless hours every week, stopping for lunch at
McDonald’s, buying clothes at the mall, watching TV in the evenings.
That was before Breault heard an author talk about the bleak
future of the world’s oil supply. Now, she’s preparing for the world as
we know it to disappear.
Breault cut her driving time in half. She switched to a diet of
locally grown foods near her upstate New York home and lost 70 pounds.
She sliced up her credit cards, banished her television and swore off
plane travel. She began relying on a wood-burning stove.
“I was panic-stricken,” the 50-year-old recalled, her voice
shaking. “Devastated. Depressed. Afraid. Vulnerable. Weak. Alone. Just
terrible.”
Convinced the planet’s oil supply is dwindling and the world’s
economies are heading for a crash, some people around the country are
moving onto homesteads, learning to live off their land, conserving
fuel and, in some cases, stocking up on guns they expect to use to
defend themselves and their supplies from desperate crowds of people
who didn’t prepare.
The exact number of people taking such steps is impossible to
determine, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the movement has been
gaining momentum in the last few years.
These energy survivalists are not leading some sort of green
revolution meant to save the planet. Many of them believe it is too
late for that, seeing signs in soaring fuel and food prices and a
faltering U.S. economy, and are largely focused on saving themselves.
Some are doing it quietly, giving few details of their
preparations — afraid that revealing such information as the location
of their supplies will endanger themselves and their loved ones. They
envision a future in which the nation’s cities will be filled with
hungry, desperate refugees forced to go looking for food, shelter and
water.
“There’s going to be things that happen when people can’t get
things that they need for themselves and their families,” said
Lynn-Marie, who believes cities could see a rise in violence as early
as 2012.
Lynn-Marie asked to be identified by her first name to protect
her homestead in rural western Idaho. Many of these survivalists
declined to speak to The Associated Press for similar reasons.
These survivalists believe in “peak oil,” the idea that world
oil production is set to hit a high point and then decline. Scientists
who support idea say the amount of oil produced in the world each year
has already or will soon begin a downward slide, even amid increased
demand. But many scientists say such a scenario will be avoided as
other sources of energy come in to fill the void.
On the PeakOil.com Web site, where upward of 800 people gathered
on recent evenings, believers engage in a debate about what kind of
world awaits.
Some members argue there will be no financial crash, but a slow
slide into harder times. Some believe the federal government will
respond to the loss of energy security with a clampdown on personal
freedoms. Others simply don’t trust that the government can maintain
basic services in the face of an energy crisis.
The powers that be, they’ve determined, will be largely powerless to stop what is to come.
Determined to guard themselves from potentially harsh times
ahead, Lynn-Marie and her husband have already planted an orchard of
about 40 trees and built a greenhouse on their 7 1/2 acres. They have
built their own irrigation system. They’ve begun to raise chickens and
pigs, and they’ve learned to slaughter them.
The couple have gotten rid of their TV and instead have been
reading dusty old books published in their grandparents’ era, books
that explain the simpler lifestyle they are trying to revive.
Lynn-Marie has been teaching herself how to make soap. Her husband,
concerned about one day being unable to get medications, has been
training to become an herbalist.
By 2012, they expect to power their property with solar panels,
and produce their own meat, milk and vegetables. When things start to
fall apart, they expect their children and grandchildren will come back
home and help them work the land. She envisions a day when the family
may have to decide whether to turn needy people away from their door.
“People will be unprepared,” she said. “And we can imagine marauding hordes.”
So can Peter Laskowski. Living in a woodsy area outside of
Montpelier, Vt., the 57-year-old retiree has become the local constable
and a deputy sheriff for his county, as well as an emergency medical
technician.
“I decided there was nothing like getting the training myself to
deal with insurrections, if that’s a possibility,” said the former
executive recruiter.
Laskowski is taking steps similar to environmentalists:
conserving fuel, consuming less, studying global warming, and relying
on local produce and craftsmen. Laskowski is powering his home with
solar panels and is raising fish, geese, ducks and sheep. He has
planted apple and pear trees and is growing lettuce, spinach and corn.
Whenever possible, he uses his bicycle to get into town.
“I remember the oil crisis in ‘73; I remember waiting in line
for gas,” Laskowski said. “If there is a disruption in the oil supply
it will be very quickly elevated into a disaster.”
Breault said she hopes to someday band together with her
neighbors to form a self-sufficient community. Women will always be
having babies, she notes, and she imagines her skills as a midwife will
always be in demand.
For now, she is readying for the more immediate work ahead:
There’s a root cellar to dig, fruit trees and vegetable plots to plant.
She has put a bicycle on layaway, and soon she’ll be able to bike to
visit her grandkids even if there is no oil at the pump.
Whatever the shape of things yet to come, she said, she’s done what she can to prepare.