Red Alert

FRONT LINE: GPSAR trainees brush up on their search and rescue skills. The FEMA-approved group grooms civilians to help in emergency situations.

Funding woes, apathy keep Philly populace unprepared for terrorist strike.

by Doron Taussig

This past February, T.J. Wallace happened upon a car accident. One vehicle flipped over, trapping an elderly couple. Another teetered on its side. EMS personnel hadn't arrived. People at the scene were shouting and panicking.

Wallace, who saw that the teetering car needed to be stabilized, enlisted help in carrying bricks to prop it up. Within moments, he says he found himself "barking out orders." You, call 911! Don't try to move the trapped couple!

"The crowd looked at me like, 'Who's this guy?'" Wallace recalls.

They were right to wonder. Wallace is a business executive, a civilian like everyone else. What set him apart was his Community Emergency Response Team (CERT) training, which means he knows about fire suppression, damage assessment, search and rescue, and medical triage, as well as fundamentals about biological and chemical agents.

Under Wallace's guidance, ordinary citizens secured the scene until the fire department arrived with rescue equipment, something a panicking crowd probably would not have been able to do.

After 9/11, more Americans were supposed to become Wallace-like: psychologically prepared for a disaster and informed about how to act in the face of one. But nearly three years later, opportunities for Philadelphians to get emergency-preparedness training are limited. Some advocates say the government needs to push the issue harder. But people who have been pushing say civilians just aren't interested.

One needn't be the type who buys out Wal-Mart's duct tape to appreciate the value of a prepared citizenry. In any emergency — natural, accidental or deliberate — people with a modicum of preparation will be less likely to panic and more likely to survive. Philadelphia can have the best evacuation plan in the world, but if everyone just heads for the nearest exit, it's not going to work. "A nation of citizens who are alert and prepared, a nation of citizens who refuse to panic, that's a terrorist's greatest fear," Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge has argued.

Yet if you ask Michael Nucci, the city's director of emergency management, about what programs Philadelphia has in place for civilian education, his answer is fairly short. He mentions a commercial that runs on Channel 64, mailings that get stuffed in with the water bill and some community fairs.

"I'm not sure how much of an effect that has," Nucci concedes.

The only substantial measure Nucci cites is CERT. Developed at the federal level, the program trains civilians in basic response skills. The CERT curriculum is far more salient than water-bill mailings — but the program doesn't reach a very wide audience.

In Philadelphia, there are only two ways to get trained in CERT: the police department's Town Watch program or Greater Philadelphia Search and Rescue (GPSAR). Town Watch has been training new members since 2002 and offers the course as part of an in-service for existing members. Though there are 19,500 Town Watch participants in the city, only about 500 people have gone through the 20-hour program, says Executive Director Anthony Murphy.

GPSAR, a volunteer organization that provides assistance to professional rescuers in emergency situations, is the region's only other certified instructor, having received a stamp of approval from the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Wallace got his CERT training through his GPSAR membership, but not many other people have. The group has only held four trainings, reaching less than 100 people. Other than CERT, Nucci says the city leaves it to volunteer organizations.

Margaret O'Sullivan, chief executive of the Southeastern Pennsylvania chapter of the Red Cross, says her organization has taken a leading role in forming Volunteer Organizations Active in Disasters (VOAD), an alliance of groups such as the Salvation Army and the Girl Scouts that trains members in first aid, CPR and WMD response. VOAD has 48 member groups in Southeastern Pennsylvania, and 828 individuals have received the emergency training. Additionally, the Red Cross offers courses in emergency preparedness to schools and worksites (the police and fire departments offer similar programs). The school program, Community Disaster Education, is sponsored by PECO. It has reached about 19,000 schoolchildren in Philadelphia.

Publicity for preparedness courses has been light — the city posts information on its Web site, as well as conducts the aforementioned mailings and fairs, and the Red Cross reaches out to groups through the United Way. GPSAR chief Mark Hopkins says he thinks the region's approach to emergency preparedness is incomplete and complains that counterterrorism money "is not coming down the pipe" to organizations that train citizens.

Since 2001, $5 million of federal counterterrorism funding has come into Philadelphia, the great bulk of which has been spent on equipment for professional responders. "The big money," Nucci says, is still on its way. In the next year, Philadelphia should be receiving around $20 million, which is slated for expensive technological equipment such as communications centers, police helicopters and fireboats. (The two fireboats the city has now are nearly 60 years old.) But Nucci says the city does not have plans for any new major programs in civilian preparation, or for a major publicity push.

Although Philadelphia is not required to spend the federal money on training the public, Hopkins says it would be advisable. "You can't only throw money at expensive equipment," he says, noting that with a little funding for publicity and materials, "I'd go out and ram CERT down people's throats. É I could work miracles, education-wise, with $10,000."

Nucci does not claim there is a funding shortage. Rather, he says the city is "a little bit leery" of providing sophisticated training to too many people. If something goes wrong, "we don't want people freelancing as rescuers," he says.

He points out that well-meaning civilians clogged the streets of New York on Sept. 11, slowing down emergency vehicles. "It's different in rural areas," he says, where it could take professional responders a while to reach the site of an emergency. In Philadelphia, Nucci says emergency work is best left to professionals.

Hopkins admits that there's "a fine line between helping and being dangerous." But, he says, "I look at it as: Good people are trying to help — why not educate them?" Other people trained in CERT cite additional benefits, such as the psychological one of knowing you can protect your family, and the chance that someone like Wallace will be around for everyday emergencies.

Nucci agrees that there is value in a certain level of civilian preparedness; in fact, he says, "we'd like to do more of that." But he notes that civilians aren't banging down doors to get themselves prepared.

After all, Hopkins recalls, after 9/11, GPSAR had "hundreds of applicants," but "once the dust settled, we had one new member."

"The public span of attention is very short," Nucci says.

It could be, as Hopkins says, that the public span of attention would last longer if the government kept it focused with more frequent reminders. But it could also be that the public won't be interested, no matter how hard the government pushes.

"Preparedness is a hard sell," says O'Sullivan. "It's like insurance É it just sits and waits."