The obituaries for Paul Ehrlich, author of The Population Bomb, brought back merry memories for late-era Boomers who came of age in the ’70s. He was just one more voice in the chorus of imminent disaster. Here’s how we figured our miserable future would play out:
It would begin with global cooling. Vast blocks of ice would push down from Canada and probably scrape our town of Fargo right off the map. Maybe we could outrun them. We had a vision of Mom and Dad throwing things in a suitcase as the glaciers crushed the grocery store up the street, then all of us jumping in the car and peeling out, heading south for northern Iowa, where we could catch our breath.
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