Alright, so picture this: it’s 1973, and the United States is cruising along—cars are big, gas is cheap, and nobody’s really thinking about what could go wrong. And then bam—like a tire blowout on the freeway—the Arab oil embargo hits. Suddenly, gas stations look like the opening scenes of a zombie apocalypse: lines of cars stretching for miles, people in polyester suits shaking their fists in the air, crying, “This is un-American! I have places to be!”
Oil prices quadrupled overnight, and America learned the hard way that we were way too dependent on foreign oil. It was like realizing your entire diet is based on one food—let’s say tacos—and the taco guy suddenly says, “No more tacos for you.” What do you do? Do you starve? Do you fight the taco guy? Do you beg? No, you hoard tacos. You stockpile tacos. Enter Gerald Ford.
On December 22, 1975, Gerald Ford signed into law the creation of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve—the world’s largest stockpile of crude oil. It’s our national “break glass in case of emergency” stash. Not barrels sitting behind a gas station. No. This oil lives in giant salt caverns deep underground along the Gulf Coast. Salt caverns! Because, apparently, when you’re planning for global disaster, you go to the same people who design supervillain lairs.
Now, why did we need this? Because without it, every time something went wrong in the world, we’d be up a creek without a drop of gasoline. Let’s just imagine the nightmares we’d be living if Gerald Ford hadn’t come through with the SPR:
Scenario One: The Road Rage Olympics — National Edition
There’s no oil. That means no gas. That means we’re all riding bicycles. Not a cute, eco-friendly ride through the park. No, I’m talking millions of people pedaling furiously on highways that were built for cars. Picture I-95 at rush hour—bumper to bumper, but with bikes. Parents towing kids in little wagons. Delivery guys balancing pizzas on handlebars. Lawyers in three-piece suits screaming at one another because someone didn’t signal before swerving into the breakdown lane.
The sheer rage is unimaginable. Picture New York commuters on the Brooklyn Bridge—100,000 people dinging their little bells at once: “DING DING MOVE OVER!” Grandma’s veering left on her cruiser. Someone with a Peloton subscription is clearly showing off, standing to pedal and wearing compression shorts like they’re in the Tour de France.
And when someone finally wipes out? Oh, buddy. Like dominoes. Thousands of people tumbling into a pile-up that could be seen from space. Helicopters circle overhead, reporting on the Great National Bike Jam of 2023 while Steve the weatherman says, “And in traffic today, it’s a solid 12-hour delay across all major bike routes. Back to you.”
This is not “quaint Dutch cycling infrastructure.” This is millions of panicked Americans screaming, “WHO STOLE THE OIL?!” as they try to make it to work on Schwinns.
Scenario Two: The Great Candle Shortage of 2023
No oil means no heating oil, no electricity from power plants, no transportation. Winter hits, and suddenly we’re all back in the 1600s, huddled together in log cabins, rubbing sticks together for warmth. Grandma’s knitting a sweater with the wool from the neighbor’s goat because we’re survivors. And candles? Forget it. You’ll be paying $45 for a wax blob and a string because Steve down the street cornered the candle market.
Scenario Three: Global Geopolitical Panic Bingo
No SPR means every time there’s an oil disruption—war, hurricanes, pirates, whatever—our economy tanks faster than you can say “crude futures.” Gas hits $20 a gallon. People sell their houses to fill up their Ford F-150s. Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia, Russia, and a few other oil-rich countries are laughing maniacally as they hold us hostage. They’ve got us by the dipstick, and they know it.
But here’s the thing: thanks to the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, none of this has happened. It’s our insurance policy, our safety net, our national “chill out, we got this.” Over the years, we’ve tapped into the SPR when we needed to. During the Gulf War in 1991, after Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and most recently in 2022 when Russia invaded Ukraine and oil prices went bonkers. It worked. It always works.
Now, to be clear, the SPR is not a magic oil genie. You can’t just rub a lamp and say, “I wish for $2 gas and a jet ski.” It’s a finite resource. It’s not a replacement for a long-term energy plan. And that’s where this story turns from “Ha, isn’t history funny?” to “Hey, we need to pay attention.”
Because the world is changing. Hurricanes are getting stronger. Wars are getting more unpredictable. Cyberattacks on critical infrastructure? That’s not sci-fi anymore. And while we’re transitioning to clean energy—which we absolutely need to do—we can’t pretend like oil doesn’t still matter. It does. Without the SPR, we’d be one bad day away from those bicycle dystopias I mentioned earlier.
So, what’s the lesson of December 22, 1975? Gerald Ford knew something that we’re in danger of forgetting: you prepare for bad days when things are still good. You don’t wait until disaster strikes and say, “Oh crap, does anyone have a plan?” The SPR is a plan. It’s boring. It’s underground. It smells like salt and crude oil. But it’s also a lifeline.
And here’s the kicker: energy security isn’t just about oil anymore. It’s about making sure we don’t get caught flat-footed, whether it’s oil, solar panels, wind turbines, or whatever comes next. The SPR reminds us that a backup plan is not an admission of failure; it’s a sign that you’re paying attention.
So thank you, Gerald Ford. You saved us from gas lines, angry bike mobs, and the great candle wars of the future. Now, if we can just remember to fill the tank before the next crisis hits, we’ll be okay.
And if not? Well, start practicing your bell-dinging skills. You’re going to need them.
