Hi, everyone,
Well, as this is being written (Sunday, March 1) it has already been a most unusual day in Lincoln. About two hours ago – officially 12:59 pm – a 4.1 earthquake rattled Cowels, Nebraska, 137 miles west and a bit south of here. I felt it mildly for a moment as I was working on the computer. Other parts of Lincoln reported dishes rattling in cupboards, etc. Apparently, no damage in the city.
Strange things are happening, though – as I’ve mentioned before -- with all that that is going on with climate change, I’m pretty sure that eventually Nebraska will eventually be beach front property 😊
Today’s episode marks our immediate family’s third acquaintance with an earthquake. One was serious, the other mostly humorous. The one that got our attention most took place when we were stationed at Vicenza, Italy. I was reading a bedtime story to Karen, six-years old at the time. We were stretched out on a couch in the living room. As we looked up from the book, the chandelier in the room was swaying in wide arcs back and forth. As it turned out, there was very little damage to Vicenza. Further south, towards the heel of the Italian boot, in places the results were catastrophic My unit and others close by did fund raising and clothing drives to assist. Among the worst hit was a town named Piacenza –which, to our families back in the States sounded a lot like ‘Vicenza,’ and thus worried them considerably until we could make contact (letters took about a week each direction).
The humorous part of our earthquake history occurred at Scott AFB. My mom loved to tell the story and join in the laughter and teasing that followed. We had recently brought our new born daughter Laura home to the trailer house we lived in on the base. Mom was visiting to help with the baby. A few days after she arrived, as we were preparing to go into town, mom felt it necessary to dress up a bit. As she told the story, she was near TV set, standing on one foot putting on her girdle when the quake struck. The trailer was rocking back and forth and with her on one foot, she had to grab hold of the nearest object and “dance” to keep from falling over. Fortunately, the TV set was close at hand and stable enough to keep her upright until the commotion ended. She couldn’t tell the story without cracking up.
Nita experienced several quakes during her dad’s two tours at Clark AB in the Philippines. Mount Pinatubo, the volcano that erupted in 1991, was visible from the base.
Just a bit of writing news to keep those who might be interested in the loop. As I’ve mentioned before, we are in the baby step stages of two potential projects. One is an as yet unnamed short story collection. I think the story selections are just about firmed up, but the hardest task still remains – identifying publishers who might wish to consider foisting it on the world. The second is a small book of humor. This one is a bit further along. It is tentatively titled “Pomes that Reely Rime: Profound, Virile (Short) Verses, Not That Wussy, Touchy-Feely Stuff Like You Get at Poetry Readings.” There will be more info about it in future editions. I’ll try to keep everyone updated.
I’m wrapping up this note early Monday, March 2. The headlines cover the burgeoning war with Iran; U.S. casualties, and three F-15s shot down by friendly fire. When I began this website years ago, I made a promise to myself to focus on writing and not to attempt use it as a political forum. I won’t break that promise this morning. Like most others, particularly those who have been touched by conflict even in a small way, I hope that it is over soon and that all who are in harm’s way return safely to their homes and families. The most difficult duty I ever performed was having to knock on the door of a very nice family at two thirty in the morning and tell them that their son would not be coming home. Decades later, I still think of that young man – as I’m sure his family does – what would he have turned out to be? What kind of life would he have led? I have since come to think that before any leader commits America’s sons and daughters to combat, he/she ought first to have made a journey as I did on the cold, sad, darkness of the early morning.
Please excuse the absence of puns this morning.
Best wishes to all,
Tom
Well, as this is being written (Sunday, March 1) it has already been a most unusual day in Lincoln. About two hours ago – officially 12:59 pm – a 4.1 earthquake rattled Cowels, Nebraska, 137 miles west and a bit south of here. I felt it mildly for a moment as I was working on the computer. Other parts of Lincoln reported dishes rattling in cupboards, etc. Apparently, no damage in the city.
Strange things are happening, though – as I’ve mentioned before -- with all that that is going on with climate change, I’m pretty sure that eventually Nebraska will eventually be beach front property 😊
Today’s episode marks our immediate family’s third acquaintance with an earthquake. One was serious, the other mostly humorous. The one that got our attention most took place when we were stationed at Vicenza, Italy. I was reading a bedtime story to Karen, six-years old at the time. We were stretched out on a couch in the living room. As we looked up from the book, the chandelier in the room was swaying in wide arcs back and forth. As it turned out, there was very little damage to Vicenza. Further south, towards the heel of the Italian boot, in places the results were catastrophic My unit and others close by did fund raising and clothing drives to assist. Among the worst hit was a town named Piacenza –which, to our families back in the States sounded a lot like ‘Vicenza,’ and thus worried them considerably until we could make contact (letters took about a week each direction).
The humorous part of our earthquake history occurred at Scott AFB. My mom loved to tell the story and join in the laughter and teasing that followed. We had recently brought our new born daughter Laura home to the trailer house we lived in on the base. Mom was visiting to help with the baby. A few days after she arrived, as we were preparing to go into town, mom felt it necessary to dress up a bit. As she told the story, she was near TV set, standing on one foot putting on her girdle when the quake struck. The trailer was rocking back and forth and with her on one foot, she had to grab hold of the nearest object and “dance” to keep from falling over. Fortunately, the TV set was close at hand and stable enough to keep her upright until the commotion ended. She couldn’t tell the story without cracking up.
Nita experienced several quakes during her dad’s two tours at Clark AB in the Philippines. Mount Pinatubo, the volcano that erupted in 1991, was visible from the base.
Just a bit of writing news to keep those who might be interested in the loop. As I’ve mentioned before, we are in the baby step stages of two potential projects. One is an as yet unnamed short story collection. I think the story selections are just about firmed up, but the hardest task still remains – identifying publishers who might wish to consider foisting it on the world. The second is a small book of humor. This one is a bit further along. It is tentatively titled “Pomes that Reely Rime: Profound, Virile (Short) Verses, Not That Wussy, Touchy-Feely Stuff Like You Get at Poetry Readings.” There will be more info about it in future editions. I’ll try to keep everyone updated.
I’m wrapping up this note early Monday, March 2. The headlines cover the burgeoning war with Iran; U.S. casualties, and three F-15s shot down by friendly fire. When I began this website years ago, I made a promise to myself to focus on writing and not to attempt use it as a political forum. I won’t break that promise this morning. Like most others, particularly those who have been touched by conflict even in a small way, I hope that it is over soon and that all who are in harm’s way return safely to their homes and families. The most difficult duty I ever performed was having to knock on the door of a very nice family at two thirty in the morning and tell them that their son would not be coming home. Decades later, I still think of that young man – as I’m sure his family does – what would he have turned out to be? What kind of life would he have led? I have since come to think that before any leader commits America’s sons and daughters to combat, he/she ought first to have made a journey as I did on the cold, sad, darkness of the early morning.
Please excuse the absence of puns this morning.
Best wishes to all,
Tom
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