Individuals will have to pay a ten percent surcharge, and corporations will be asked to make a “special contribution” of ten to fifteen percent on last year’s income to help pay for the damages caused by the Thessaloniki earthquake. In addition to an extra two drachmas on petrol, motor car owners will be paying higher circulation taxes on their automobiles, while automobile insurance brokers will have the thankless task of collecting it. Landowners face an uncertain revision of tax legislation on property, and, should citizens be toying with ways of outwitting the system, the Government has made it known that the penalties for tax evasion will be stiffened. What is more, taxpayers earning more than two hundred and fifty thousand drachmas a year will have the thrill of seeing their names in print — along with their vital statistics, addresses, and declared incomes in 1977 — in a three-volume work to be published by the Government at the end of the year, just before they begin preparing their 1978 tax returns. This is not the first time that incomes will be made public, part of the theory being that citizens will rush out to purchase the volume and wile away their evenings looking up their friends’ and neighbours’ incomes — and tattling on them if they have reason to believe they have understated their earnings. Homo sapiens, however, are not the only Government targets. Canines are about to be taxed — from one hundred to four hundred drachmas annually, their bracket depending on their dogpower. Adding insult to injury, this unprecedented tax was ignominiously appended to a special bill on “fighting man-animal diseases” An official dog census is planned for the future but the Ministry of Agriculture currently estimates the dog population at approximately five hundred and fifty thousand. Of these, twenty thousand are categorized as “luxury” dogs (house pets), three hundred and fifty thousand as hunting and guard dogs (i.e. pets that are tied up outside and left to bark all night), one hundred and thirty thousand sheep dogs, and fifty thousand strays.
The bill includes provisions for dealing with strays, compulsory inoculations, and canine medical examinations to detect diseases likely to be passed on to humans. The cost of this program is estimated at sixty-five million drachmas annually and will cover the fees of two hundred veterinarians and the cost of medical supplies and equipment.
The dog tax will yield an estimated thirty-five million drachmas a year. Although dogs failing to comply with the new regulations may get off scot-free, their owners may be sentenced to a maximum of two years in prison and a fine of up to ten thousand drachmas.
The canine bill is explicit on details and deductions. If a female dog has undergone sterilization, the tax is reduced to one hundred drachmas. Shepherds’ dogs as well as seeing eye dogs will be exempt from taxes. In the absence of owner willing to cough up the dog taxes, strays will suffer the heaviest penalty. Special municipal crews will undertake their extermination by anaesthesia.
The Quake
FROM Dan A. Zachary, the United States Consul General in Thessaloniki: Not surprisingly, the earthquake that struck Thessaloniki at 11:08 on the night of June the twentieth definitely felt stronger than the “aftershocks” that followed the strong tremor of May 24, which had registered five-point-seventy-five on the Richter scale: it had a strength of six-point-five, a force that put it in the big leagues. I was getting ready to read the thirteenth chapter — entitled “Coping” — of The Complete Book of Running, when the whole room began to jog. I moved immediately to the main door near the stairwell, which seemed the safest place to be. The movement of the building grew as plates, cups, and bric-a-brac in my fourth floor apartment fell loudly to the floor. A dishwasher joggled forward ten inches. The quake lasted for an interminable twenty-five seconds. When it was over, I phoned the other occupants of the building.
The Consulate, like a mom and pop store, has residences on the top floors. Secretary-Communicator Patty Rensch, who had arrived at her post exactly two weeks earlier, said that the water sloshing in her bathtub had reminded her more of the Atlantic than the Aegean and that as the building strained and wall plaster and objects fell around her, she had wondered if the entire building would cave in. Up on the top floor, Vice Consul Jim Murray had gotten out of bed when the swaying began to hang onto an exercise bar to keep from falling over. A statue that had been repaired after being damaged by the May 24 tremor was broken once again, and his stereo set had inexplicably turned itself on.
One mile from the Consulate, Branch Public Affairs Officer Sharek and his wife Jean had both been thrown to the floor in their eighth floor apartment. Residents in their building had panicked and some had run upstairs instead of down to get out of the building.
Patty Rensch, Jim Murray and I went out into the city. The streets were filled with people, some of them in pyjamas, carrying infants or getting into cars to leave the centre and spend the night elsewhere — in parks or back in their villages. Rubble was everywhere. Mouldings and iron ornamentations had fallen from buildings. A quarter mile from the Consulate we saw a collapsed eight-storey apartment building, sections of its concrete floors strewn about like poker chips. Of the fifty people who lost their lives, thirty-five died there. Policemen, soldiers, firemen, and local officials had already begun organizing clearing operations at the site. It took four days working around the clock to clear away the rubble and to remove all the remaining bodies. Back at the Consulate, the damage looked minor by comparison. Bibelots, chinaware, and glassware were strewn about. The walls were covered with long cracks, the bricks showing through where chunks of plaster had fallen off.
