This month the British government told every household in the country to be ready to get through 72 hours on its own. Japan, Germany, Taiwan, and the EU have been saying some version of it for years. Here in the States, FEMA has said it on Ready.gov for as long as I've been in the fire service: three days of food, and a gallon of water per person per day.
Most people hear "72 hours" and figure it's a round number somebody picked. It isn't. It's roughly how long it takes for help to reach everybody after a big event, and I've watched those three days play out from the other side of the call.
Hour 0 to 24: we go to the worst first
When a storm or an outage hits a whole region, every truck, ambulance, and crew is spoken for within the first few hours. We go to the fires, the people trapped, the cardiac arrests, the nursing home that lost power with patients on oxygen.
If your house is dark but nobody's hurt, you are not on that list. That's not because nobody cares. It's because you're okay, and someone across town isn't. The best thing a family can do on day one is not need us.
Hour 24 to 48: the quiet emergencies start
Day two is when the calls change. The refrigerator food has gone warm and someone ate it anyway. A diabetic ran out of insulin, or the cold kept it from working. Someone ran a generator in the garage. A family drank tap water during a boil notice and the stomach bugs are showing up.
Almost none of those calls come from a lack of exotic gear. They come from four things: no clean water, no safe food, no light, and no way to stay warm or cool. Those four are the whole job of a 72-hour kit.
Hour 48 to 72: help shows up, in a line
By day three, the trucks with water and food are usually rolling. Distribution points open. Power crews are working the main lines.
But help arrives in a line, not at your door. You stand in it with a container, or you don't get the water. The families that do best are the ones who never had to stand in that line on day one. They can walk to it on day three with a collapsible jug and come home with ten liters.
What three days actually takes for a family of four
- Water: 12 gallons minimum. One gallon per person per day, for drinking and basic washing. Store containers flat and fill them from the tap when the forecast turns, and keep a filter for when they run out.
- Food that needs no cooking. Your stove may not work, and you won't want to burn fuel. Ready-to-eat entrees, ration bars, crackers, peanut butter, dried fruit. Food your kids will actually eat on a hard day.
- A weather radio. When the cell towers go down, a NOAA radio is how you hear what's coming next.
- Light: one per person. Headlamps, not one shared flashlight. Hands-free matters when you're carrying a child or a jug of water.
- Warmth and signal: a thermal bivvy and a whistle for everybody.
- First aid: the everyday kind for cuts, burns, and fevers, because the urgent care is closed too.
- Your half: prescriptions, glasses, documents, cash, baby formula, pet food. Nobody can pack these for you.
Start this weekend
You don't have to buy it all at once. Our free 72-Hour Family Checklist walks you through it line by line, and most of it comes from what's already in your pantry.
If you'd rather knock it out in one order, the 72-Hour Family Kit covers water, food, a weather radio, light, warmth, and first aid for four people in one waterproof bag. There's also a Family of Two version, and the 72 Hour Starter Kit is the smallest honest place to begin.
Three days isn't paranoia. It's the gap between when the lights go out and when help can reach you. Fill it, and on the worst day your family is the one that doesn't need the call.
Stand Ready. Stay Unbreakable.