Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania! Rock Me, Pennsylvania.
I felt the earth . . . move . . . under my feet.
So far this year, I have survived a haboob and an earthquake. And with Irene making its way up the coast, I may be able to add a hurricane to my weather world bucket list. The storms of the year trifecta. WooHoo!
I was in my office. I had just finished examining a patient, when things started to shake, rattle and roll. (Thank God I wasn’t in the middle of surgery!) It was like a locomotive roaring by outside–only you couldn’t hear a locomotive . . . and there are no train tracks near my office!
I look at the patient. He looks at me. We both look at his wife, sitting in the corner behind us.
“Is that what I think it was?”
Yes. We felt an earthquake. In Pennsylvania. I have lived, um, well at least 39 years in either Pennsylvania or Ohio, and I have never felt an earthquake. Not even a tremor. Unless there’s a train lumbering past. Maybe an occasional charley horse.
So I called my wife.
“Did the earth move for you?”
Apparently, it did not. She was cleaning. The vacuum was running. The washer was running. She thought she heard the wall shaking–our vinyl siding shakes in the winter time when the wind gusts–and while she thought that was odd since it wasn’t winter, she hadn’t realized what was happening. That’s probably a good thing. Weather disasters like tornadoes and hurricanes and snow freak her out. It was better this way.
I surveyed the damage when I got home.
What a mess it made of my desk! Here’s what it looked like before . . .
In case you are wondering, the quake knocked over the bag of candy on the edge of the desk. Look again:
Oh, the inhumanity!