By Joni Johnson

I’ve been on campus since 2019.  During that time, we have had a fire evacuation and a worldwide pandemic.  Who woulda thought?  All that’s left is the…  I will leave it to your imagination.  I take the Resident Preparedness Group (RPG) for granted, but before 2019 there was no resident organization concerned with preparation for emergencies and disasters, and responses when they happened.

   Bob Buddemeier

Bob Buddemeier has been involved with RPG from the beginning, when I asked him how it got started.  He said that there had always been some interest in preparedness – “Resident Jim Macmillan had been working on it for some time, and Scott Tucker (Jens Larsen’s predecessor) was interested, but when he left the efforts declined.”  Bob said that the real start came about when the California wildfires drew attention, and in public meetings both Sarah Lynch (previous Executive Director) and Jim Van Horn (Previous Facilities Services Director) were heard to say that in an emergency like the Cascadia Subduction Zone earthquake, cottage residents would be on their own.  WHAT????

“That really got people’s attention,” Bob said, “and a group of us got together to see what residents could do to safeguard themselves.”

Fortunately, our current administration is much more in tune with the needs of everyone here at the Manor including those in the cottages.  The fire/evacuation was a major wake-up call, and  the RPG has grown substantially from a new organization concerned with emergency supplies to a network of neighborhood and floor coordinators with walkie-talkies and a designated role in RVM emergency responses

As usual, there is always change afoot and needs that must be addressed.  Bob Buddemeier has been involved with the RPG since its inception and has served as its head for much of that time.  However, he recently decided to turn over the reins.  When I asked what led to that decision, he explained that he feels that he is no longer able to provide what the organization needs to continue to function and develop.

“I’ve fallen behind, and I’m not catching up.  The bad news part is that it has been a rough year for me, and I still have problems to deal with.  The good news part is that RPG’s growth and success has made it more than one person or a few people can hope to manage effectively.  And, it is much too important not to have the support that it needs.”

“Fortunately,” he said, “we will not lack for ongoing leadership.  Bob

   Bob Berger

Berger, who has been serving as vice-chair, will take over the chairmanship, Dan Curtis will continue as Communications Lead, and I’ll remain on the Leadership Team working on information development and dissemination”

Bob feels that he will be able to help the revised leadership team and other interested individuals get their feet wet and move the organization to where it needs to be.  He thinks that RPG is at an important transition point, and that new eyes and energy will find a way to make it more effective and more satisfying to everyone.

“RPG needs to develop a more distributed leadership and ways to piece that together into a unified whole,” Bob said.  Many people have contributed in the past and others are still heavily involved in the operation.  However, it needs more people, greater involvement, and a process of identifying the activities that need to be supported and the people who are willing to participate so that the organization can continue to build its capacity to serve the residents.  A planning group has been formed to help provide that.

I asked Bob about his future plans.  “I’m still committed to the project,” he said, “and I want to continue contributing. I’m really happy with this rearrangement of responsibilities; I started out with a focus on the information side – in fact that was part of the reason for starting The Complement.  That hasn’t yet fulfilled the goal of having an easy-to-use informative website on preparedness, and I want to get back to working on that.”

Bob sees the function of the Preparedness Group as two-fold. First and foremost, it is the only real way residents have to support themselves in an emergency.  “RVM is well-intentioned and reasonably well prepared, but it is not an emergency response organization.  In a major crisis it will not be able to do or provide all that residents want or need,” he said.

And secondly, but of equal importance, RPG is a major way to make our community stronger- by increasing communication and the potential for mutual assistance.  In order for this to help in an emergency, we need to get to know each other better, neighborhood by neighborhood.   This has always been true but even more so with the recent problems we have had in staffing and resident isolation because of the pandemic.  When Carolyn Bennett, et al, started the Neighbors Together program last year, one could see how much the RVM community needed ways to meet and get to know each other.  In fact, when interviewed during one of these events, most residents commented on how wonderful it was to see people in their neighborhoods again.

The Emergency Preparedness Group has been a major social force to that end.  Cheerie Howse gathered neighborhoods together for informational meetings that got neighbors talking and which became the driving force that eventually helped address getting the cottage garage doors fixed for easier handling during a power outage.

Neighborhood Coordinators have been responsible for gathering information on the needs of everyone of the street.  This has meant in-person greetings, telephone calls and emails to make sure that neighbors and coordinators knew each other’s contact information and their needs in case of an emergency.  Once the pandemic is on the decline, the hope is to get people together for other purposes- emergency-preparedness as a result of fun and socializing.

So this article is not only informational.  It is an appeal to everyone to understand that we are all unique and important parts of our community. There is a need for all of our input and involvement in emergency preparedness. RPG needs participants.  Are you interested in playing a part?

For more information, contact Bob Berger at x6579, mbberger03@gmail.com, or
Bob Buddemeier at x6820 or buddrw2@gmail.com,

 

by Marty Smith via Tom Conger

Nectar Bartender: My new hummingbird feeders got no takers all summer. Now, in late November, I’ve suddenly got hummers galore. If Portland is where they migrate for winter, they must spend their summers at the North Pole. Is this yet another harbinger of climate doom?

Anonymous Birding Consultant: I’m glad things are finally working out with your feeder, Bartender, though obviously I’m disappointed to learn that Hummers Galore is not, in fact, Pussy Galore’s even more popular big sister. That said, I do have to correct a few of your assumptions.

Anna’s Hummingbird

What you’re seeing is probably the species known as Anna’s Hummingbird, and your climate fears may be partially allayed when you learn that, unlike every other hummingbird in North America, this one is nonmigratory. Despite their tropical appearance—the males’ faces shine an iridescent fuchsia in the right light—these hardy little bastards butch out the Northwest winter as far north as British Columbia.

Granted, they’re newcomers. Native to California, the Anna’s hummingbird wasn’t seen in Oregon until the 1940s. However, it wasn’t a changing climate that brought them north, but a revamped menu.

Our native trees (think Doug fir or Sitka spruce), for all their stately majesty, suck at producing the nectar hummingbirds crave. The advance of civilization’s plow, however, brought with it lots of non-native flowering species (as well as a not insignificant number of easy marks like you) upon which the birds could thrive.

Thus, while the earth and its climate are certainly doomed, the presence of hummingbirds in Portland in December is not, in itself, a direct sign of that doom. Enjoy!

by Tom Conger

As is our custom, my kids, grandkids, and I converged in Seattle to spend the Christmastide with their stepdad at his lovely place in Issaquah. This time we all flew in—nine of us from different locations, all on separate flights, arriving just before a substantial snowstorm. They all stay at his home, and I with old friends in Bellevue, thus were only able to actually get together for a few hours on Christmas Eve plus some “quality time” the next day. Then off we all flew like the down of a thistle.

On December 28, I awoke with a very sore throat, mild headache, body aches, and a low-grade fever (101°). Inasmuch as I had spent 10 hours the prior day waiting for my (1-hour) flight back to Medford, then marching back & forth on the tarmac, in the rain, as the airline shuffled planes on us, eventually flying almost to MFR before diverting back to Portland because “a cargo door had not latched properly,” I figured I had the flu, or possibly strep throat. We had all been vaccinated, and the kids boostered, so thoughts of Covid were vague at best. But during the day, I learned that the kids’ had each tested positive before reporting back to work or school. And I suddenly found myself so sick I couldn’t even get out and get tested. Somehow, another day went by – lost forever, a blank. Or was it two days?

A friend called. “Are you OK?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“NO!”

“OK. But I’m going to call every day to make sure you’re alright.”

“Just let me go back to bed.”

And so she did. Every day. I had to d-r-a-g myself out of bed to answer the phone.

One day, I just couldn’t make the effort when the phone rang. Mistake. The troops arrived in the form of Bob. Muttering imprecations and holding on to the walls for support, I wobbled slowly and carefully to the front door. Blearily, I motioned for him to go away through the screen door, and I staggered back to bed.

On New Year’s Eve, I dragged self out of bed and drove to the Fred Meyer parking lot, where I heard drive-by testing was being done. Once I finally located the test site (reportedly “amply signed”—there were no signs whatsoever) and drove around until I found what appeared to be the end of the line, it was obvious that, at the rate the line was moving, there were several days’ worth of cars waiting to be tested. I drove home and took a nap.

Next day (New year’s Day) I learned that Valley Immediate Care was offering test with no wait, so drove to the VIC facility at Barnett & Ellendale, and received prompt service—and equally prompt results: I had Covid. These tidings were promptly relayed to Melissa Preston and Belle at the front desk.

The report forms did not identify which strain/variant of the infection I had. And by then my temperature had returned to 98.6°. But I was far from “cured.” The sore throat had dissipated with the fever, but several MD friends had suggested Mucinex, to relieve any congestion I might be experiencing (had an occasional little hack—what I’d call a “nervous cough”); so, when dear friend Nancy called from her PT session and asked if there was anything I needed from the Manor Mart, I requested Mucinex. Seemed to get some relief from that OTC Rx, and eventually consumed the entire packet plus about half of a refill.

By then, symptoms were mostly a relentless sense of fatigue—no energy whatsoever—and I found myself dozing off repeatedly. As I was mostly just lying in bed reading, the spontaneous naps were facilitated. This did not seem to interfere with night-time slumber, so I figured there was no harm in nodding off at will. But it was damned annoying. I kept having to reread to figure out where I had been before I dropped off.

But time was passing. It had been over two weeks since the symptoms had first appeared and I had tested positive. During this interim my neighbor Cleve, who had gathered my mail while I was out of town, was also fielding items from my box in the Manor; this help was greatly appreciated. Hope you have a neighbor who would do likewise.

Slowly I began to notice that I was feeling less ”foggy” with each passing day, and was able to perform small household chores. I could fix myself something to eat and wash up afterwards without needing to lie down and rest afterwards. I was still not taking my accustomed daily walks, especially as I like to go early in the day—but it’s been cold out…! Some brilliant soul suggested I walk later in the day. 

My medical service is at the VA clinic in White City, and they did not receive their booster serum until December, my shot scheduled for 1/18. By last Tuesday, I was feeling as close to normal as I could recall, and the booster itself had no side effects. I now face the ordeal of getting back onto my walk regimen—am going to have to start slowly, and adjust the to time frame to the afternoon, at least until we get out of the 20s in the mornings.

Other than that, there’s not much advice I can offer: if you somehow get exposed, and actually contract the infection, there’s little you can do other than rest—and keep isolated from others = easy in the independent cottages, but more of a task in the towers. Malama pono!