ELKTON, FL — Someday, when social collapse interrupts your commute or supermarket shopping, there are a few things to consider.
Jeff Smith seemed to know them all. Wooded St. Johns Outdoor Rodeo at County’s Fairgrounds As he walks under the pavilion’s spacious metal roof, Smith looks into the morning’s sparse audience, where disaster strikes When struck, he promised that his hints could get them home. Dressed in an “everyday prepper” polo shirt, he was a 64-year-old Navy veteran from the bleachers where about 20 people looked down on him. They scribbled a lot of notes.
“Everyone is getting ready to hang out at home,” Smith told them. However, he said that when there is an event, he will likely be in a different location.
Negotiations may be required as the first seminar of the day is titled “Getting Home”. “Just in case armed residents end up in a barricaded neighborhood,” Smith said. He recommends honing such skills at yard sales.
Smith suggested loading a folding bike into the car. “The bad guys don’t watch the tracks,” he said. Reconsider your carry-home bag and consider discarding heavy fire starters. And there was one absolute:
“Take an anti-inflammatory drug such as ibuprofen on the first day or you will be in a lot of pain on the second day of the event.”
At the 2nd Annual Florida Homestead and Prepping Summit, most of the attendees felt a damp breeze over gray-haired men with patriotic t-shirts clinging to their stomachs. Some had spouses and children. They raised their hands to ask about radio matrices, crossbody holsters, moleskins, and protect their feet from blisters.
Were these survivors who would one day rebuild civilization?
The two-day competition, which includes classes such as “How to Start an Edible Forest,” “Old Tools for the Future,” and “Machete for Self-Defense,” takes students 20 miles (20 miles) away in the state’s rural hinterland. It was held in , and it was a different world from sightseeing. St. Augustine was intended for the independent, ready, and paranoid, or depending on your perspective, the enlightened.
Gatherings of less than 100 people were smaller and less diverse than expected from recent reports of preparedness going mainstream amid the pandemic and its eye-popping toilet paper shortages.
Home Depot now sells 60 stackable entree buckets of dry survival food (“just add water”). The Kardashians post about their favorite ‘go-to bag’. Disaster preparedness permeates everyday homes, fueled by concerns about climate change, wildfires and floods. In 2017 he was worth $75.5 billion, the industry is projected to reach $423 billion in 2025.
The founder of preparedness site The Prepared said last year on Broadcast 1A, broadcast by NPR, that preparation is no longer confined to white, conspiracy-minded conservatives. He describes the prep class as “Her Gen Z and LGBTQ pride hippie from Portland in his shirt but he in his NRA hat practices his skills next to a Fox News watcher.” Did.
When the session was interrupted for lunch, event founder April Isser served hot dogs through the window of the snack bar. discussed a deadfall trap of the type demonstrated by a bushcrafter named Gator.
The atmosphere on Iser’s first day of the summit may not have been youthful or diverse, but the 36-year-old mother of four believed the prep community was growing. Attendance increased by 20% from last year.
Isar, who grew up Mormon, said, “I was taught to have a pantry, have savings in my account, and be a community so if someone is struggling, I can come with them.” No longer practicing, she saw her events as building a community of helpers.
“Most[preppers]are everyday people who have been through one or more crises and want to be better prepared. They make sure our kids are safe. “We don’t want to be a waste of society,” she said. I was teaching another way to be prepared for an emergency: “keys, kubotan, self-defense keychains.”
“There’s a huge misconception that we’re all gearing up for the end of the world or Zombie Day,” she said.
Preppers have said many times that it doesn’t take long to get started. They said buy some extra cans and stash them somewhere. Then try again. Start by stocking up on enough to survive 72 hours at home.
There was no talk of a million dollar bunker. The parking lot was filled with modest sedans and old pickups.
Wearing comfortable shoes, attendees wandered the dirt lanes lined with nine vendor tables and perused the merchandise in the harsh afternoon sun.
The table in Jake Drum’s booth was crammed with tourniquets, quick-setting combat gauze packs, chest seals, and other items developed for battlefield medics. A bearded paramedic from Tennessee and a proponent of “wilderness medicine,” he said the word “prepper” evokes backyard bunkers and storage.
“The worst thing that ever happened to a prepper was Doomsday Preppers on the Discovery Channel,” he said. Some people prefer the term “homestead”.
Madison Poole, owner of Bombproof Bushcraft, which sold hatchets, said the global famine caused by the war in Ukraine and the historic lack of fertilizer for farmers around her are her biggest concerns. Told. A world facing falling yields.
“The media isn’t talking about fertilizers,” Poole said. “They won’t tell you.”
Preparations may seem strange to some, she said, but the modern state of reliance on grocery stores and drive-thru is a true anomaly. I believed the bare shelves offered a glimpse into the razor blade upon which our common comfort rested.
“Who do you think will help you in times of famine?” said Poole. “Fema?”
But the most talked about hazard is the electromagnetic pulse (EMP), which can render any electronic device in its range useless, including cars, phones, refrigerators, and the entire North American power grid. That could be caused by a nuclear weapon detonating high in the atmosphere, Prepper warned.
Either way, say goodbye to the society you know, 70-year-old former lineman Bobby Lynn of Umatilla got ready after reading that EMP would melt power lines. , he wore a camouflage hat and led a late afternoon class in the post-EMP world.
“Without chickens,” said Lynn.