18 March 2020

I never thought I’d be naked in an earthquake, but here we are. If you want to know what it was like, think tarantula in your shower and you’d get about the same thrill. In Utah we have a pandemic, and now an earthquake, we only need couple more horsemen and we could have a whole apocalypse.

I was anxious after my least favorite shower of all time, but I figured the first event would be the worst, so I went to work anyway because my children are older and would be okay. People with small children or more quake damage might need to stay home, and the school would need all hands on deck to check out devices so students could do their work online, and bag up breakfasts and lunches for children who might otherwise go without. Still, at 7:30 a.m. I was praying all the way to the car, asking whether I was doing the right thing. Believe me or not, I did receive a specific impression, “Don’t worry, you won’t be there long.” “Long” is a relative term, so I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but I felt the peace I needed to start my car and back out of the garage. We did get the meals dispensed, and had begun distributing iPads and laptops, when at 9:30 a.m. the school district closed all facilities and gave us twenty minutes to evacuate the building. I’d kept my purse with me, in case I had to make a fast exit, so all I had to do was walk straight out the door. Between aftershocks I gassed up my car, bought tomatoes, two gallons of milk, and a box of brownie mix, then headed home to my kids. It was true, I hadn’t been gone long, and I’d returned with the possibility of brownies.

“Did you feel the aftershocks?” they asked.

My daughter, Abby, had been intently following the reports, as I knew she would. That girl will never suffer from a dearth of information. The earthquake had been a 5.7, and by 1:00 p.m. we’d had roughly sixty aftershocks, another thirty by 4:30, which taught me that aftershocks can be deceitful. At 7:09 a.m. I knew the first incident was generally the worst, but as the tremors continued, I was ripe to be taken in by rumors that another bigger one was predicted, and called my son, Chase, in Provo to make sure he was protecting himself. Right afterwards, I looked it up and realized I’d let the aftershocks rattle me, which is important for me to own so I can learn something. Read More