Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago

Rating:
Summary: The hidden Chicago
Review: What weather phenomenon kills the most people in America? Hurricanes? Tornadoes? Floods? Add those up and they will still not total the deaths attributed to the real killer: heat waves. The other phenomena yield good pictures, and that is one reason you don't hear much about heat deaths. But according to Eric Klinenberg, an assistant professor of sociology at New York University, there is another, more subtle reason. Victims of a heat wave "are primarily social outcasts - the elderly, the poor, and the isolated - from whom we customarily turn away." In _Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago_ (University of Chicago Press), Klinenberg has looked at the week-long heat wave of July 1995, which killed over 700 people. (Another comparison: the famous Chicago fire of 1871 killed about three hundred.) In Chicago, the heat hit up to 106 degrees, with a heat index over 120. Cars broke down in the streets, and bridges, rails, and roads buckled. Even with the windows open, brick homes could heat up to 120 degrees. The heat killed, but it did not just kill randomly. In clear, objective, but often biting pages, Klinenberg shows the patterns of urban life that brought death to certain regions and certain social groups.

One group was the elderly, clearly disproportionately killed by the heat. This might be attributed simply to their bodies having fewer physiological resources to protect them. Indeed, the government of Chicago tried to explain the deaths of elders this way; the heat only culled those who were going to be dying soon anyway. There is no medical evidence that this was the case; they simply were unconnected with society, and when they died alone in their rooms, it was long before absences were noticed. Klinenberg argues forcefully that the Chicago government, at different levels, did not respond to the disaster as it would have a big fire or a train wreck. When deaths mounted, Mayor Daley was able to frame the issue as a "debate" about the rising number of deaths, when there was no scientific controversy about the matter. Human Services Commissioner Daniel Alvarez did a classic move of blaming the victim, saying, "We're talking about people who die because they neglect themselves. We did everything possible. But some people didn't want to even open their doors to us." The media also come in for criticism. They took up the artificial controversy generated by the mayor about whether the heat deaths were "real" or not. There was little analysis about which regions were being the most affected and why, and the official city version of how little could be done against an act of God was repeatedly parroted. By the time the reporters did a comprehensive story, it was "old news" and didn't run.

No one was more forgotten than forty-one victims whose bodies no one claimed or cared about. They languished in the county morgue until August, when they were buried in a huge common trench in a potter's field. Visiting the site in preparation for the book, Klinenberg learned that a few reporters had come now and then to see it, but no Chicagoans and no family members. Social and governmental forces can't control the heat, he reminds us, but they can make deaths easy to overlook and forget. His book is a pointed effort to keep that from happening.

Rating:
Summary: Killer Heat, Killer Neglect
Review: What weather phenomenon kills the most people in America? Hurricanes? Tornadoes? Floods? Add those up and they will still not total the deaths attributed to the real killer: heat waves. The other phenomena yield good pictures, and that is one reason you don't hear much about heat deaths. But according to Eric Klinenberg, an assistant professor of sociology at New York University, there is another, more subtle reason. Victims of a heat wave "are primarily social outcasts - the elderly, the poor, and the isolated - from whom we customarily turn away." In _Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago_ (University of Chicago Press), Klinenberg has looked at the week-long heat wave of July 1995, which killed over 700 people. (Another comparison: the famous Chicago fire of 1871 killed about three hundred.) In Chicago, the heat hit up to 106 degrees, with a heat index over 120. Cars broke down in the streets, and bridges, rails, and roads buckled. Even with the windows open, brick homes could heat up to 120 degrees. The heat killed, but it did not just kill randomly. In clear, objective, but often biting pages, Klinenberg shows the patterns of urban life that brought death to certain regions and certain social groups.

One group was the elderly, clearly disproportionately killed by the heat. This might be attributed simply to their bodies having fewer physiological resources to protect them. Indeed, the government of Chicago tried to explain the deaths of elders this way; the heat only culled those who were going to be dying soon anyway. There is no medical evidence that this was the case; they simply were unconnected with society, and when they died alone in their rooms, it was long before absences were noticed. Klinenberg argues forcefully that the Chicago government, at different levels, did not respond to the disaster as it would have a big fire or a train wreck. When deaths mounted, Mayor Daley was able to frame the issue as a "debate" about the rising number of deaths, when there was no scientific controversy about the matter. Human Services Commissioner Daniel Alvarez did a classic move of blaming the victim, saying, "We're talking about people who die because they neglect themselves. We did everything possible. But some people didn't want to even open their doors to us." The media also come in for criticism. They took up the artificial controversy generated by the mayor about whether the heat deaths were "real" or not. There was little analysis about which regions were being the most affected and why, and the official city version of how little could be done against an act of God was repeatedly parroted. By the time the reporters did a comprehensive story, it was "old news" and didn't run.

No one was more forgotten than forty-one victims whose bodies no one claimed or cared about. They languished in the county morgue until August, when they were buried in a huge common trench in a potter's field. Visiting the site in preparation for the book, Klinenberg learned that a few reporters had come now and then to see it, but no Chicagoans and no family members. Social and governmental forces can't control the heat, he reminds us, but they can make deaths easy to overlook and forget. His book is a pointed effort to keep that from happening.