earthquake

EARTHQUAKE IN POTTSVILLE AND SCHUYLKILL COUNTY

Yes, I am one of the survivors of the earthquake that pulverized Schuylkill County on Tuesday August 23^rd. I felt the earth move under my feet. But I am still alive to tell my story. I had the same sensation about ten years ago when Mount Laffee erupted. Ialso had a similar sensation the other day when my cell phone rang and I had it set on "vibrate."

I felt the sky tumbling down so I knew inside of me that something terribly was wrong.

When I began to sway after I left the Eagle’s Club on South Second Street in Pottsville in mid-afternoon I had a feeling of remorse. I kept saying to myself, “Why did I pay my school taxes already?” “Is it too late to stop payment on my check?”

As I made my way up Mahantongo Street I sat down and cried as I looked upon the devastation. Once a beautiful townhouse, the structure began to tumble down before me. There was nothing I could do. I felt sorrow for the absentee landowner, knowing that his beloved building can never be salvaged.

I made my way down to West Market Street and found that a beautiful brick residence was also in ruins. If you on Market Street it is across from Yanick’s garage. You can't miss it. Apparently the roof collapsed onto the porch. Luckily, anyone inside got out alive. It is quite a setback for the city as it is now an eyesore on what once was an attractive street. “What has Pottsville done to deserve such a wrath of God?” “Can Congressman Holden help these poor absentee property owners get federal aid?” “Can Barefield Development come to the rescue?” I hoped that the Code Enforcement Office would give the owner some slack in making repairs. Could this be our Katrina? We need federal assistance right away.

It wasn’t just Pottsville. Someone told me that there are areas around Shenandoah, particularly the Lost Creek and William Penn area that were hard hit. Others said it wasn’t true, as that area prefers to look that way.

In any event I pushed my way through the ruble and worked my way up to the courthouse. The place was hard hit by the tremors. It was reported that about half of the employees were awakened from sound sleep. It may take months for normal sleeping patterns to resume. The only good news at the courthouse was one employee who was adament that the earthquake cured her hiccups.

When I arrived, Grief Counselors were already on site. I told the grief counselor that I felt guilty paying my school taxes before the taxes were due in light of the impending Rapture or Apocalypse. I told the counselor that I had so much to live for. There was a splash party for dogs at JFK Pool on Saturday and I wanted to attend with my pit bull. “Would it be cancelled?” “What about the brick that I purchased for the Courthouse in honor of the bicentennial?” “Would I ever get to gather my family around for the formal dedication?” I was paranoid that the brick mason would misspell my name on the brick and I wanted to see it and touch it before it was placed into the courtyard. The counselor told me to take six deep breathes and get the hell out of his office as no one on the courthouse payroll is buying a brick.

I was afraid to sleep in my own house that night, not because of a fear of an aftershock, but because Mammy Trout was upset that I spent so much time at the Eagle's Bar. I made my way to Pocket Park and fell into a deep sleep.