************
For
a few minutes, I could not think what to do first. Dooms was keening
in distress, Jethro had somehow worked himself inside the insulated
work shirt I had on over a sweatshirt, and I was rattled. We had
ended up with my back towards the fenced yard of the shop, facing the
south. The sun was still shining and there was a light breeze, but I couldn't hear anything. With some effort, I managed to stand up on unsteady feet,
and after a few deep breaths the mental pistons began firing again. About that time, a cacophony of sound overwhelmed my ears-sirens and horns coming from every direction, including the natural disaster one, piercing through my mental fog. Prioritizing the immediate things, I got busy.
First,
check the natural gas. Which side of the building was it on? I
remembered it was on the outside of the yard, and skirting around the
delivery truck, I looked down the shop wall, ignoring the jumbled
mess behind the chain link. The metal siding was severely buckled and
had come loose completely in some spots, leaving long lengths
sticking outwards. Off the pavement to the left the ground looked
strange, like it had been raked in some spots, but normal in others.
I noticed some deep spots had opened, like dots across the adjoining
lot, but didn’t pay it much attention. The pavement itself had a
few cracks but looked okay, so I quickly tied Dooms off to the
delivery truck and made my way down the shop wall, ducking under and
around twisted metal. I knew there had been a wrench hung on the base
when it was installed but hadn’t thought to check it in years….but
there it was-off it’s hook but on the ground. I couldn’t hear
anything, but managed to get the wrench on and turned the valve off,
just the same.
Second,
check the power. Back around the building to the front door-there was
no way to get in through the shop door at all….but the office door
had been left wide open, stuck that way due the frame being warped.
The front window was cracked, but not broken completely out. The
inside of the office was a mess. Even with shelf, desk and counter
contents strewn around, I could see the concrete floor had heaved and
buckled upwards. Carefully, I picked my way through the rubble and
found the office hand held under some papers. No dial tone of course,
no power I realized.
Third,
can I get a phone to work? I had two cell phones, my office one and
my own, neither of which I used much. The work one was found still
hooked to the charger, and with relief I saw that it had power.
Yanking the charger free of the receptacle, I made my way back
outside to try for a signal. All circuits busy, the automatic
recording said.
I
stood there for a minute, wondering which vehicle to take. The SUV
that holds the dogs comfortably, or the flat bed delivery truck with
4 wheel drive? It should have been a no brainer, but I am not one to
take things without asking and I couldn’t exactly ask my boss. As I
am looking at the truck, I had a V-8 “doh!” moment, and I hopped
in, fired it up, and found an AM station after some trial and error.
“………reporting
from Fairbanks, back to you, John”
“BEEP
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP This is the emergency broadcast system. This
is not a test. Repeat. This is not a test. The Cook Inlet area has
experienced an earthquake. Preliminary magnitude of 8.9 according to
the Alaska Tsunami Warning Center. The earthquake was centered just
four miles west of Houston, Alaska and occurred at 12:42 Alaska time.
At this time, a tsunami is not expected, however tidal surges could
be quite high. All residents in low lying areas are urged to evacuate
to higher ground immediately. Repeat: All residents in low lying
areas or tidal zones are urged to evacuate to higher ground
immediately. The Alaska National Guard, the Alaska State troopers and
other local emergency personnel are responding. Be advised that
travel may be difficult and all residents are urged to stay where
they are, out of damaged structures.
Please
stay tuned to this station for further instructions. This concludes
this announcement on the emergency broadcast system BEEP BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP BEEP”
“OK,
this is John at KFQD, reporting live the events that occurred just
minutes ago, at 12:42 this afternoon. According to the emergency
broadcast, everyone who......”
“Ah,
Scott in here, just want to pass along I have a report of major
damage from east Anchorage, there is still no word about Eagle River,
the Parks highway is impassable, I think they are closing the
airport………”
“Scott,
I just got word from the Alaska Tsunami Warning Center in Palmer.
They are predicting a moderate tsunami, to perhaps between six and 8 feet, upper Cook Inlet, set to arrive in approximately 9 minutes from
now………”
I
snapped off the radio and realized I had to pack up. Like now. Right
now. What did I need to take home with me? Propane! First, I loaded
the dogs, and drove around the back of the shop to the pallet where
the spare bottles were kept for the forklift. Jumping out, I tipped
each one to find the full ones, and drug them as quick as I could to
the bed of the truck, four 20 pound bottles, lucky me.
With strength I didn’t know I had any longer, I got them onto the truck, then climbed up and secured them to the head ache rack using a cargo strap. Blowing hard, I paused a moment and thought: What else?
Back around to the office, and onto the bed went the spare paper towels, TP, coffee. With some presence of mind, I managed to remember the cash bag, the digital camera, and I snagged my two favorite photos from the debris pile-miraculously not damaged. The plant starting rack in the office had jumped halfway across the room and several flats had fallen off the top shelf. With a pang, I turned and left them, tossed the supplies into the pipe rack and it dawned on me….I should grab some pipe or something, right? Back around the shop to the rack, which was sitting askew, partially dropped into a sink hole. Okay, not the heavy wall stuff, the pvc then…..with a bit of struggle I managed to free 200 foot of pipe from the pile and get that on the rack and secured.
I
am just driving through the gates and it dawns on me: I need to bring
hay home. In my hurry to pack up, I had forgotten about the horses.
Backing up, I spun the one ton dually around to face the 40 foot
container that held the extra hay. It too, was sitting at an angle,
but not as bad as the pipe rack. Luckily, the padlock was not
latched, but I couldn’t get the right door open fully, even using a
pry bar. The left swung open easily enough and I hastily started
dragging those bales to the front. I managed to get a half dozen
loaded before common sense returned and I realized that equipment was
made to make life easier. The forklift was where it had been left,
and fired right up as usual. With careful jockeying, I was able to
get the forklift with a pallet on it, near to the door of the
container. Working as fast as a 50 something woman could, I stacked
hay on the pallet and then loaded that onto the flat bed. I gave it a
push with the forks to move the weight forward over the axles, hopped off
the lift, turned off the fuel for it, and was back in the truck as
fast as I could. I sat there for a few seconds and thought-I might need a tank too. So, back I went to load a small fuel tank, which I stood up behind the hay. It still left about four foot of flat bed, and some along the sides.
What
else? What else? Chains. Into the bed of the truck. Extra cargo
straps, ditto. Anything else? Phones. Chargers. Work gloves. First
Aid kit. Ah, water! I grabbed the partial case from the shop
refrigerator and dumped that in the front seat on the floor board. I
made one futile attempt to close the gate before I left, but it was
too out of plumb to manage so I left the forklift parked, fuel turned
off, just inside across the entry. Someone would have to fire up the
forklift to get into the yard itself-at least with a vehicle. With
some choice words I managed to swing the office door partially shut,
and that was that, I was ready.
Driving
with two dogs scared out their wits was impossible. Between whines,
panting and scrambling around, I was taking a beating inside the cab
within 100 feet of the shop. Furious, I slammed to a stop, yelled at
the Sheltie to stay put, and dragged the big dog out. Looking into
his panicked eyes, I knew I had to take a couple minutes to settle
him down. I pulled him closer and began the slow stroking I knew
calmed and reassured him and after a minute or so, I felt the tension
begin to fade away and the breathing slow. After a moment of
indecision, I finally decided I had to tie him to the bed of the
truck-between the hay and the propane bottles. I’d never done that
before and there was a pretty good chance he’d panic and hang
himself jumping off, but I had to do it. With a little coaxing he was
able to make the nearly four foot jump up beside me, and I tied off
his lead to the pipe rack. With a few encouraging words, I positioned
myself to jump down when an aftershock smacked us a good one.
Immediately,
I was dropped down onto my butt, with my legs hanging off the back-I
snatched onto the rack and held on as the world rocked and jumped and
bounced around me. I’ll never forget the sight of my SUV bouncing
around like a basketball being dribbled, or the grinding, popping,
cracking and roaring sound that came with it. I watched the fence
posts get jacked up and down and the chain link rippled wildly as the
metal building danced and screamed. With adrenalin pumping hard, I
was about into a full blown panic myself when it finally eased and
stopped. Eventually I began to hear the whines of fear from the big
dog as the pounding in my own ears faded away and turned to see how
he had fared during that aftershock.
One
of the propane bottles had slipped loose from the strap and was
tipped over, but aside from that, everything looked okay. I got back
to my feet, tightened down the strap with another loop through the
lifting handle, patted the dog, and hopped back down to the ground.
With shaking hands and rather wobbly on my feet, I made it to the
drivers’ door, crawled in, and shut it firmly. The Sheltie was on
the floorboards, scared to death and the sight of his terror stricken
little body got me to focus a bit. I snatched him up to my chest and
we just all sat there for a few minutes or seconds-while I fought
back tears and huge waves of emotion that followed one after the
other.
Eventually
I was able to pull myself together, with the urge to get home in the
fore front of my mind. I fired up the truck again and eased the
Duramax into second and off we went. Thirteen and a half miles to go.
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