Once the news of the anthrax laced letters broke, the media was on the story like a pit bull on a poodle. Wide-spread panic set in.

CNN had 24 hour a-day feeding frenzy. Tom Brokaw, whose office had received an anthrax letter, broke down and cried on national TV. Michael Jackson, the insipid British radio talk show host, advised his listeners to "tear up any suspicious mail and throw it in the trash." News Flash: Tearing up an envelope full of anthrax spores is not a real good idea. The San Diego Union ran a front page box score on anthrax cases and deaths. A San Diego television station ran a breathless promo: "Children are especially vulnerable to anthrax attacks. Find out what you can do to protect them on the six o'clock news!" Medical authorities were featured guests on nearly every evening newscast. Few of these experts pointed out that you have a far greater chance of being hit by lightening than contracting anthrax.

Thousands lined up at surplus stores to snap up gas masks. PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) issued a press release stating that "animals are entitled to the same protection as humans" and, you guessed it, thousands sought to outfit their pets with gas masks. The fact that gas masks are ineffectual against anthrax, unless worn continually, didn't slow down sales.

People began setting fire to their mail by microwaving it to kill any lurking anthrax spores. Switchboards were swamped as millions of calls were made to the post office, disease control agencies and local hospitals and clinics.

The demand for antibiotics soared even though taking them as a preventative reduces one's chance of surviving an actual anthrax infection. Sadly, several people were hospitalized for taking powerful animal antibiotics. Like circling buzzards, the scam artists moved in and did a brisk business in bogus anthrax killing disinfectants and useless anthrax detection kits. The shrill media voice had been heard.

During the height of the anthrax scare, while driving on the freeway, I pulled up next to car whose occupants, a family of five, were all wearing white paper masks--the kind that painters use while spray painting. These sell for about 29 cents at paint stores and anthrax spores will pass through them like water sprayed from a garden hose through an open window.

As I looked at these foolish and frightened people, Franklin Roosevelt's World War Two advice to the American people came to mind: "We have nothing to fear except fear itself."

Suddenly, I was afraid.