Thirteen

At about 2:45 p.m. there was a large rumble that shook the newsroom floor.

There is some construction going on in our building, so we first thought someone had hit something. Then, I called my dad.

“Did you hear that?”

“Everybody heard that.”

I hadn’t hung up the phone yet when I screamed “Call the police department.” Chris, without instruction, grabbed a camera and set out to photograph whatever it is and Ann and Ruth started to call everyone we could think of — dispatch, the fire department, police department, heads of various city departments, the governor’s office, the National Weather Service, Elsworth Airforce Base, the county emergency manager, the U.S. Corps Amy or Engineers. A sonic boom? A water main break? An explosion? A plane crash? No one seemed to know. I funneled the information, or lack of, into our website and social media. Finally, from the USGS, we got the answer. Earthquake. In South Dakota.

It registered a 3.4, which is considered a minor earthquake, and there was no damage. Just a freak small tremble. It happened near Steamboat Park, which is underwater thanks to the Missouri River Flood.

If you are keeping track of Heather’s ridiculous events of 2011 it is now two evacuations — one related to terrorism and the other political activism — a cholera outbreak, a flood and an earthquake.  A friend asked if he could choose what disaster will occur when I see him in a few weeks. My dad said if there is a locust outbreak he is kicking me out of the house. It used to be a joke, but I am really starting to wonder if I am cursed.

Anyway, Ruth and Ann did a great job of tracking it down and we have a fun little story for tomorrow. An earthquake in South Dakota, that is a new one.

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