It was late in the evening way back in 2004. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was visiting my friend who had come home for a visit from her military home. We were talking and laughing and enjoying each other's company as usual. Humor and silliness are big trademark themes in her family, and it's a joy to be around. My friend had only two daughters at the time, one of which was only a few months old. I remember thinking how easy my friend made it look to be a mother of two. I really admired her for being such a good mother at such a young age and living so far from her family and support system, and with her husband overseas. I couldn't imagine. I found the idea of motherhood somewhat alien and frightening. There were several other children in the house as well, and my friend was standing the baby up on the kitchen table, making her dance and--BOOOOOOOM!!!!! The loudest boom I have ever heard hit the house. Yes, it seemed that something huge had just hit the house. The chair I was sitting in jumped, was almost knocked out from under me. The windows busted out, or rather they busted in. The chandelier was thrown like a wind chime in a violent storm and pieces broke off onto the floor. Part of the ceiling fell in. My friend was amazing. While I quickly hid under the table, she got the baby and the other children under the table, too. My mind was dumbfounded. Even then, I felt ashamed that my first instinct was not to save the children. My first thought was, "This is a drive-by shooting," as if I would know what that was like. My second thought was, "Someone threw an explosive device at our house....like a grenade? Why would someone throw a grenade at our front door??" Those possibilities came into my mind like flashes of lightening. It's a little funny to me now how quickly my mind jumped to false conclusions of the mysterious BOOM. There was a deafening silence and stillness that followed before everyone snapped into survival mode. We weren't sure what was on the other side of that door, but on this side, we were counting heads. When every one was accounted for, my friend asked me to get the baby dressed while she tended to her other child. How can she be so calm and clear-headed? I guess it helps to have military training when disaster strikes. I tried to remain calm, but my arms were shaking wildly as I awkwardly dressed a baby for the first time in my life as quickly as possible.
Just as I became aware of the loud, high-pitched ringing in my ears, all of our phones started ringing one after another. I didn't have any answers for my loved ones, but assured them that I was okay. Eventually, we were told that a local scrap metal plant, Yaffee Iron and Metals, had exploded about a block from the house. Someone knocked at our door and told us to evacuate the area but to be prepared for additional blasts. I can't remember if there were additional blasts, but I don't think there were--none like the first one anyway. Funny how the brain seems to reduce its functioning to only essential processing in times of crisis. Reports said 3 people were killed and 14 were injured. There were multiple fires in the neighborhood, damage to many houses and a local strip mall not far away. My husband (boyfriend at the time) told me that there was an eerie green light in the sky right before the bright flash and blast, unlike anything he had ever seen. My parents who live about 10 miles away said they felt it and thought something had hit their roof. It was reportedly felt and heard for at least 30 miles.
That is the closest I have ever come to a disaster. The incident shook me emotionally for years. Sometimes a loud sound, like fireworks, a gun shot, or a loud thunder clap, would trigger a physical response. My body seemed to lock up and I could clearly see and hear in my mind the chandelier swinging from the ceiling. I could hear the baby crying, and I could feel the hard floor on my knees. Even though I was not hurt and didn't even see any one hurt, the terror and jolt to my senses stayed with me for at least 2 or 3 years after. Now, 8 years later, I am fully recovered of course, and have nothing but tremendous respect for all of those who have suffered more severe traumas and survived much greater horrors than this.
