Errors of the past have returned to haunt us.
Who among us has never been lost? Perhaps we missed an exit ramp and had to travel extra distances. At other times, we may received well-intentioned, but thoroughly confusing directions that ended with a smile and the assurance of “you can't miss it.” We did miss it, and got off course. It takes only a second to lose focus on the intended destination. It can take an eternity, however, to become redirected.
In 1973, this country found itself in the midst of a major energy crisis similar to the one we now endure. The American car at that time was a “gas guzzler” by today's standards. Autos were large and high-powered, but lacking in fuel efficiency. Smaller European and Asian imports, rarely seen in this country, were considered high priced and dangerous toys reserved for only the well-to-do. Very soon, however, shiploads of Volkswagens, Mazdas, Austin-Healy MGS and Opels (just to name a few), began arriving at American ports as not-so-well-to-do drivers sought more fuel-efficient vehicles for daily use. To compete with the growing popularity of foreign-made rivals, American auto makers were forced to develop and market economy models locally. In the interim, auto dealerships became proverbial “graveyards” for great numbers of unsold standard American cars that fewer and fewer buyers were willing purchase.
The principal of cause and effect became evident as prices of food and other goods and services increased proportionately to gas prices. Heating fuel cost increased significantly as did the cost of electricity. Fuel became limited and some service stations were forced to close temporarily for lack of a product.
American ingenuity soon rose to the occasion, however, leading citizens to chart a workable survival course. Small numbers of merchants would allow customers to purchase fuel in containers for less than the price filling cars or home fuel tanks. People car-pooled, minimized driving, downsized autos, and wore more layers of clothing indoors to save on heating oil consumption. The speed limit was lowered from 70 to 55 mph, thus decreasing fuel consumption.
This crisis was indeed devastating, but citizens had taken the bull by the horns, wrestled with it, and prevailed. Gasoline supplies slowly increased and inactive service stations eventually reopened. Personal income and consumer purchasing power gradually increased as the nation seemed to recover. Some food prices remain lower today than at their highest point in
the 1970s. The country was “getting back on its feet” and seemed secure. Security, however, can be deceptive.
The Shakespearean play “Macbeth” speaks of false security in this statement: "And you all know, security is mortals' chiefest enemy." As Macbeth sat in his castle, convinced of his invincibility, his enemies - hidden behind uprooted trees - crept closer each day to his castle, eventually capturing and destroying him. Likewise, trusting passengers set sail on the Titanic, only to have their safety tragically snatched away as that unsinkable ship hit an iceberg.
Feeling invincible and unsinkable, America breathed a collective sigh of relief as the crisis subsided. Cautious and frugal behavior continued for a while, and there was a belief that “lightening would not strike twice in the same place.” As we snuggled in the arms of this false security, old habits began to emerge, and the struggles of the past were soon forgotten. Survivors of the crisis welcomed the return to the fast lane in their larger vehicles. New generations seemed to have inherited their ancestors' love of the great American car, and the size, price, speed, and visual appeal of cars grew, while speed limits eased back up to 70 mph. Inevitably, higher gas prices - our own “uprooted trees” were creeping closer and were poised outside our “castle moat,” awaiting the chance to destroy us. The deceptive winds of false security had blown our ship off the survival course set more than 30 years ago.
We had endured the agonizing 55 mph speed limit and the design of cramped economy autos. We had lowered thermostats, altered the onset and end of Daylight Time, and added extra layers of clothing and bedding in winter. Sacrifice became a way of life well worth the cost of having a life. We had survived. We had prevailed. We were home free. We had beaten the enemy and could now do things “our way.”
The price of this freedom was costly, however, and has forced us to reinvent the solutions of the past. While ethical owners of larger vehicles are seeking buyers, others are employing arsonists to destroy undesirable vehicles for insurance profit. Electric heaters are selling briskly in an effort to avert heating fuel costs, and now the most despised solution of all - lowering the speed limit - is again “on the table.”
The compass was there, and the course was set, but we strayed off the path and traveled in a different direction. Cost increases are inevitable, and global
market trends are unpredictable, but had we been more prudent, some of our current agony may have been averted. We chose to “fall off the wagon” of wisdom, and settle back into comfortable but destructive habits. In doing so, we lost our way, and must now pay the high cost of straying off course.
