Prayers for Japan

Yesterday, one of the world's largest earthquakes ever recorded (8.9) hit Japan. They were subsequently hit with a 30 foot tsunami, followed by their Fukushima nuclear power plant exploding. A trifecta of horrors. All I could think about when I heard the news was my friend Robbie. Rob and his beautiful family live in Japan. Not knowing what part of the country he was in, I was concerned for their well being. Fears subsided when he responded to our notes on Facebook.

Friday Evening: Dear Friends, I'm in Kyoto now and was yesterday as well, nothing here, yet as you know that is not the case for much of Japan; we are all ok, I'll email more to each when I return home today, hopefully the roads are open. Much love to everyone and deep thanks for your concern. Japan faces some tough times now....

Saturday Morning: Dear Friends, Back in Numazu now; the drive back from Kyoto was ok, the highway was void of usual traffic, emergency vehicles from all over Japan though heading north. And up north a nightmare as we all now know. My heart is full of sadness and awe; my deepest thanks for all messages, overwhelming, in light and love and the beauty of the now and what we have.

So relieved to hear that Robbie and his family are ok. Rob is an expert of Japanese pottery. He published a book and has his own gallery in Mishima. Hopefully the pottery is intact as well. My heart goes out to the people of Sendai and all of Japan.

As tragic news from Japan continues to roll in, my mind drifts back to October 2005. Hubs and I braved the devastation of Hurricane Wilma. Affected emotionally by her wrath, I wrote a letter to my friends that had written from across the globe inquiring as to our fate. I thought I would share it with you today.

-----Original Message-----

Date: Tue, 01 Nov 2005

From: schnoogies@aol.com

Subject: Hurricane Wilma

To: schnoogies@aol.com

It's Thursday, Oct 20, 2005. It's my sister's birthday. She's 42 today. I call to sing, but have to rush off. Floridians are all glued to the TV. As the end of the 2005 hurricane season approaches, so does one more storm. Wilma is on her way to Cancun Mexico and scheduled to hit South Florida (where I live) by Tuesday morning. Hurricane preparations are necessary. We've been through this many times before, so the box stored under the bed is fully stocked. We have flashlights and extra batteries (in case the power goes out), we have the battery operated tv and radio (for news and emergency info), we have cases of water and we have lots of non-perishable canned foods and treats for the puppies too. We make sure the BBQ has propane, the cars are gassed up and that we have cash. (ATM's, cash registers and gas pumps don't work when the power is out). Friday at the office, we unplug computers, take pictures off the walls, wrap plastic around the furniture and telephones, take in the patio set (we have a balcony) shove towels under the doors, and try to secure the server room as well as we can. All the while, the constant chatter of idle hurricane talk can be heard. "Hey Randi, are you ready? Think this will be the big one? Ah, it won't be anything. Bring it on!" Yada Yada Yada. Truthfully, one of the hardest parts for me is taking it seriously enough every time a hurricane is coming. A few have never gotten here, but a few have. You need to always be prepared. Back at the house. Bring in the outdoor furniture, plants, yard ornaments etc. Move inside furnishings away from the windows. Take a shower in case the water goes out. Fill up the bathtub for the same reasons. Do one last load of laundry. Put up a sign on my living room window that reads "WILMA go back to BEDROCK!!!" Go over the checklist again for the 25th time. and wait. and wait. and wait. Saturday. Watch the news and wait. And wait. Sunday. Something is different today. Instead of Tuesday, the news is saying Wilma may make landfall by Monday afternoon. More importantly, instead of a category 1 hurricane, Wilma looks like a category 3 or 4.* See below. Getting nervous, but there's nothing to do but wait. Try to sleep, but never really sure when the hurricane will hit, so we have to listen to the news. Fall asleep around 2 am. Wake up Monday at 7am when the power goes off. Get the battery operated TV, listen for info. Make sure the flashlights are around, even though it's daytime. Look outside through the windows, but not too close in case they break. Mental note to self: Invest in hurricane glass or hurricane shutters for next year. As the winds start to pick up, we do one more check on the house. Furniture is moved; water is there, dogs cages are tied to shelves in the closet in case of the worst. We are ready. Monday morning from 8-10 am, all that we could hear or see was wind. Trees blowing from the South. Bending in 45 degree angles. Branches breaking and hurrying down the streets like quarter horses at Belmont. Wind. Howling. Screeching. Screaming. Moans that sounded like a freight train coming through the living room. Sounds that can only be liken to those of a small animal whose nails were being torn out one by one with a rusty needle nose. And then it was quiet. The first half of the storm was over. The eye was over us and for a brief 30 minute period, we could have peace. We hurried and put the collars on the pups and ran outside. Neighbors all checked on each other as they emerged to assess the damage. Trees were down, branches all over the place. Some trees were so big, that when they fell, they took the cement sidewalk with them. Cars were covered with branches and grass was strewn about. We all talked a bit, joking that there were many neighbors we have never even seen before, and we should make it mandatory to walk outside for at least an hour a day so we could all get to know one another. But then sky became thick with an unnatural purple tint and the winds picked up. We all rushed back to our homes to hunker down. "See you later" we yelled. "Be safe. Be careful. We'll reconnect when this is all over. G-d bless us all!" And then it began. The second half of the most ferocious act of Mother Nature that I had ever experienced. The winds picked up rapidly. The window panes were knocking. A tree branch broke in front of our living room window. It seemed to be stuck in a tunnel of wind. More like a tornado of sorts. The branch kept smashing fiercely into the window. We were sure it was going to break through the glass. We rushed to our safe room. The walk-in closet. The four pups, Mitch and me. All in the closet. We had some water bottles, a flashlight and the battery TV. And we sat, and held each other, and waited. It was 2 pm when the winds died down. We looked at each other and almost weren't sure if it was really over. We waited. Then we got up. Went out. And prayed. Amid the eerie silence, we looked around. Almost every tree in the community was down. 25% of roof tiles were blown off the roofs. Buildings and cars were smashed either by trees or roof tiles. Metal gutters were torn off. Electric transformers and utility poles were snapped in half. Cement poles. Snapped in half as though they were made of Styrofoam. We just stood there. Then cried. Then hugged. Then cried some more. I felt as if I was in a movie. People were all walking around in a daze. It was like a real life version of "Land of the Living Dead". We checked on our neighbors and all the animals in the neighborhood. Everyone was ok. Visibly shaken. Inner psyches raw. But we were ok. How about everyone else? We had no phones. No way to know what happened outside our little "village". We went for a walk. Just down the street from us was another rental development. The roofs were made of shingles and every one was off. Some even took the plywood underneath with them. The sky could be seen from bedrooms. Cars were trashed. Trees were down. It looked like a war zone. And it only went on from there. No power, and no phones, for 6 days. Although the weather had cooled down from the usual 90 degrees we get here, it was still muggy. Hot, sticky and scared, we trudged on. The first few days were fine. We ate what we had prepared to eat. Chips, pop tarts, and canned corn. And we had water. Room temperature, no ice, but it was water. Neighbors with meat in the freezer paired with BBQ people and we had cookouts. Kudos to Mitch who was the best BBQ king ever. He heated up water for me every morning so I could have my coffee. (That was probably for his own sake. Me with no coffee. OY) We lit candles at night and played backgammon. We read stories and listened to music on the portable cd player. We looked at the stars. The Milky Way was actually visible for the first time in forever. We bonded. It was peaceful and beautiful. By Wednesday, the mood around town had changed. Some grocery stores had opened, but people were fighting. Those without gas for their cars had a 6 hour wait for the 2 stations that had fuel. If you didn't have cash, you were out of luck. Tempers flared. It was easiest for us to just stay home. Some local restaurants used gas to cook, so Mitch and I went out each day and looked for a hot meal. Twice we had pizza, once we had something they called chicken catch a tory. <--- real spelling. swear. We have pics. :) We drove to the beach. We ate in the car at the shore. We tried our best to be happy. As more trees were cleared away, we were able to see the devastation brought on by Hurricane Wilma. Sides of buildings were blown out. Windows broken. The green huge signs you see on highways, with the name of the next exit on it, down. No stop signs, no building names, no city street signs. There are no street lights here either. They have been blown down. All intersections are treated as 4 way stop signs, but people haven't all figured that out yet. It's a scary sight. By Saturday night FPL restored our power. Good thing since those cold showers were starting to get annoying. We have a curfew now, I guess for the looters. We must be in by 9pm. Stores and restaurants are closed by 7pm. Still not a lot of dairy or meat in the grocery. We are back to work now. Trying to sort through the projects left behind. Just trying to figure out where to start has been hardest. The cleanup will take months. The rebuilding will take years. The memory will last a lifetime. All in all it was an experience I will never forget. I am thankful for Mitch and my neighbors and for Cingular Wireless who allowed us to text message pretty much throughout the week. I am thankful for being able to see the Milky Way and for knowing that everyone I love is safe. I am thankful for friends like you, who have written and asked, and cared enough to want to hear about the experience.

*Category 1 Hurricane - winds 74-95 mph (64-82 kt)

No real damage to buildings. Damage to unanchored mobile homes. Some damage to poorly constructed signs. Also, some coastal flooding and minor pier damage.

- Examples: Irene 1999 and Allison 1995

· Category 2 Hurricane - winds 96-110 mph (83-95 kt)

Some damage to building roofs, doors and windows. Considerable damage to mobile homes. Flooding damages piers and small craft in unprotected moorings may break their moorings. Some trees blown down.

- Examples: Bonnie 1998, Georges(FL & LA) 1998 and Gloria 1985

· Category 3 Hurricane - winds 111-130 mph (96-113 kt)

Some structural damage to small residences and utility buildings. Large trees blown down. Mobile homes and poorly built signs destroyed. Flooding near the coast destroys smaller structures with larger structures damaged by floating debris. Terrain may be flooded well inland.

- Examples: Keith 2000, Fran 1996, Opal 1995, Alicia 1983 and Betsy 1965

· Category 4 Hurricane - winds 131-155 mph (114-135 kt)

More extensive curtain wall failures with some complete roof structure failure on small residences. Major erosion of beach areas. Terrain may be flooded well inland.

- Examples: Hugo 1989 and Donna 1960

· Category 5 Hurricane - winds 156 mph and up (135+ kt)

Complete roof failure on many residences and industrial buildings. Some complete building failures with small utility buildings blown over or away. Flooding causes major damage to lower floors of all structures near the shoreline. Massive evacuation of residential areas may be required.

- Examples: Andrew(FL) 1992, Camille 1969 and Labor Day 1935

Wanna read more? :)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2005_Atlantic_hurricane_season