Media teamwork
By Lin Shi-ming Posted Wed, Dec 1 1999
At 1:47 a.m. on Sept. 21, a killer earthquake shook Taiwan. At magnitude 7.3, it was the largest temblor to shake Taiwan this century. It resulted in over 2,300 deaths, 8,700 injured and left scores missing.
The quake epicenter was near Puli, a small town in Nantou county, 90 miles southwest of Taiwan’s capital, Taipei.
Once the earthquake struck, all the media in Taipei immediately began around-the-clock coverage of the story. I joined them.
Fifteen minutes after the shock subsided, I received word that the Tonsin Building in Taipei had collapsed. I took my camera and rushed to the scene. I could not believe what I saw. A 12-story building had been reduced to just five stories in seconds. Its occupants anxiously waved for help from almost every window to the gathering rescue workers.
About 100 people were rescued, but 78 were trapped and eventually died. I took several photos and hurried back to the office to begin filing my story.
After I turned in my photos to my editor around 3 a.m., I knew I would not have time to sleep. I decided to drive directly to the towns closest to the quake epicenter: Puli, Chuliao and Chichi. The devastation made it impossible to get to my destination by car, so I rented a motorcycle. I got through to the worst-hit areas. Along the way, I saw roads buckled and deformed, then reformed into large asphalt waves. Bridges were wiped out.
When I reached my destination, I saw people with shock and sadness in their eyes, but they were still eager to help. They risked their own lives trying to dig out relatives, neighbors, friends, even people they didn’t know. For tools, they often used nothing but their bare hands or the simplest of implements.
Rescue workers crawled under the collapsed buildings and freed people buried under tons of rubble. Their efforts were hampered by frequent large aftershocks. “The quake is coming! Run, run!” was a familiar warning, one that sent me and the rescue workers running for open ground away from the fragile rubble.
I never had a chance to sleep the first two days after the quake. I was eager to tell this tragic story through my camera. I was also too scared to sleep because the aftershocks hadn’t stopped.
The living conditions for survivors were bad. There was no water or electricity. Working conditions were equally poor. Cellular phones did not work, and there was no way to send pictures back to my editors in Taipei.
After searching for a long time, I found the only electricity remaining in Chichi. It was the backup power system in the emergency room of a local hospital. I was permitted to use the hospital’s facilities to send my photos back to Taipei. We were able to publish pictures the day after the quake.
The next day, volunteer rescue workers and donations poured in from all over the island and from more than 20 nations from all over the world. This was the first time in a long while that Taiwan was on the receiving end of international aid.
The media sought to do their part in covering the tragedy, but they were not exempt from harm. A reporter in Puli was injured; other colleagues’ homes were destroyed. A branch office of a newspaper in Puli sustained serious damage.
The media’s teamwork helped mobilize resources throughout Taiwan.
Aid came from all over. People donated all their waking time and a total of US$360 million to help victims rebuild their homes. Religious organizations pitched in to help.
Tze Gee, a Buddhist charity organization with a lot of experience in relief work, organized its volunteers to gain access to the most devastated areas. The charitable organization also played a crucial role in helping victims of the earthquake in Turkey on Aug. 17.
Tze Gee members prepared hot food, comforted the victims of the quake, and helped erect tents for temporary housing.
Earthquake victims complained about the slow action and poor coordination between federal and local governments.
They contrasted the government’s response with the more rapid response from charitable organizations and the media.
High-ranking officials blamed the media for reporting the complaints of citizens affected by the quake but not considering the difficulties the government faced in providing aid. The rising chorus of dissatisfaction with the government relief effort immediately raised the questions: “What is the essence of a democratic society?” “What is the role of the government during a disaster?” “What is the responsibility of the media?”.
Many people here don’t want even to discuss the speed of the government response. They believe we should concentrate on rebuilding our homeland instead of bickering meaninglessly. Calamities such as earthquakes represent a good chance for government, media, and the rest of society to reevaluate themselves and decide how to be better prepared.
On Sept. 21, the day Taiwan crumbled, I felt the force of Mother Nature and shared a common trauma with Taiwan’s 22 million people. I was moved by the great love that Taiwanese society has for each of its citizens. I will never forget how willingly people risked their lives in the rescue effort. They donated food and money, and did whatever else they could to help, without hesitation. For me, it was a tragic and memorable experience.