Mapping British invasion

The American habit of overreacting to the media hype of an impending crisis, such as the recent Northeast blizzard, is one which traces its roots to the very beginnings of our nation. Herewith, as proof, is a transcript of a CNN (Colonial News Network) telecast originating in Lexington, Mass., just after midnight on April 19, 1775.

Studio Announcer: We interrupt this program for a special report from the CNN Crisis Center, where Paul Revere is sitting in for the Widow Woodruff.

Revere: This … just … in. It’s official. The British are coming. I repeat: the British are coming. All indications are that this is the kind of crisis that no amount of hyping can overstate. But we’ll give it a try. Let’s go first to our wig-watcher in Boston, Abigail Adams. Abby, what’s happening there?

Adams: Paul, earlier this evening, British officers went outside and began to powder their wigs in earnest. At this time, about six hours later, there is perhaps a foot of powder on the ground, even more in places where April’s breeze has caused drifting. No doubt about it, Paul, this is The Big One. Back to you.

Revere: Abby, thanks. Let’s here now from consumer affairs reporter Eliza Harrington, standing by at Muzzey’s General Store in Lexington. Eliza, how is the hoarding going?

Harrington: Paul, the scene here is one of pure panic as hundreds of hyperventilating customers, taking advantage of extended shopping hours, are hoarding candles and root vegetables at a record clip. In fact, Robert Parker, the store’s manager, told me earlier that his gross receipts are far outrunning those taken in during the last crisis, the rum embargo three years ago. That’s it from here, Paul.

Revere: Thanks, Eliza. Try to get some sleep. Now to CNN’s traffic patrol reporter, Silas Richards. What have you got for us, Silas?

Richards: Paul, the situation is worsening along the area’s roads. The biggest problem? Out-of-state visitors who lack experience riding or driving horses during a public panic. The problem is especially evident at rotaries. We are urging all citizens to stay off the roads so that alarm-spreaders can get through and do their jobs.

Revere: Good advice, Silas. Thanks. Now, here with me in the studio is Dr. Joseph Warren, Crisis Center’s medical expert. Doc, tell our viewers, if you will, what kinds of health problems they should be worrying themselves sick about during this disaster.

Warren: Well, Paul, probably the biggest problem will be tinnitus from belfry bells ringing the no-school signal. And I would expect, also, to be treating a case or two of hoarder’s elbow. Maybe a few coronary events brought on by the exertion of frantic shoveling while burying silverware. Those sorts of things, mostly.

Revere: Thanks much, Doc Warren, Crisis Center’s medical expert. For our final report tonight, we go to William Dawes in the CNN Path Prediction Room. Bill, what can you tell our frightened-silly viewers about the probable path of this awful menace which threatens to plunge our citizens into a Dark Age?

Dawes: Paul, as you can see from this regional map behind me, things do not look good at all.

Revere: Bill, excuse me, but you’re standing in front of the part of the map our viewers are most concerned with. Could you step back a bit?

Dawes: Sure. Sorry about that, Paul. Well, Paul, thanks to our computer-enhanced pictures of lantern flashes from a Boston church steeple, we are able to predict that this disturbance will gather force over water, not land. In fact, Thomas Robbins, my disaster observer in Menotomy – right there on the map – reports that the leading edge of the moving disturbance passed his house 10 minutes ago on a northwesterly path at roughly three mph. That would project an arrival in Lexington – which is here on the map – just after first light. Other reports from our disaster observers along the route tell of widespread candle outages and privy tippings. Paul, this is, indeed, The Big One.

Revere: That’s it for now. I’m outta here. For all of us at the CNN Crisis Center, thank you and good night.

Charles Packard lives in Camden.