200th anniversary of shaking, rattling, and rolling in the Midwest.

Yeah, yeah, yeah....go to Google or most any other site today and you'll see that today's the 200th anniversary of Charles Dickens' birth. Or they'll talk about how the Beatles arrived in New York in 1964. But February 7, 1812 is actually known for something much bigger here in the United States, even if 99% of the population has no idea what that is.

Today is the 200th anniversary of the largest of the 1811-1812 earthquakes known as the New Madrid Earthquakes. It's also the day the Mississippi River "ran backwards" for three days or just several hours, depending on which historical account you believe.

Now, I grew up living in the New Madrid Seismic Zone (NMSZ) and the houses I lived in were all near or almost on the fault line itself. I remember growing up we'd see the chandeliers swaying during church services if a small tremor happened. You could always tell who wasn't originally from the area because they'd be the ones freaking-out about it while the rest of us just continued on as if nothing had happened. For years when I had friends over I explained to them that if the house felt like it was going up-and-down, that's because a heavy train was going by (we lived near the tracks). If it felt like someone was shaking the house back-and-forth, that was an earthquake. And if it sounded like a large truck had crashed outside and the back-and-forth shaking started, that's a bigger earthquake and to hold onto something!

I remember in 1990 everyone in Southeast Missouri was making earthquake kits and planning to sleep in their clothes -- with their shoes on, too -- from December 1st to December 5th because Dr. Iben Browning, a climatologist, and Dr. David Stewart, director of the Center for Earthquake Studies at Southeast Missouri State University in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, announced in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that Dr. Browning's "prediction"of a magnitude 6.0-7.5 earthquake along the New Madrid Fault with the specific dates of December 2nd and 3rd to be of the highest risk. Many were suspect of Dr. Browning who had claimed to predict the Mount St. Helens eruption and the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake that interrupted the World Series in San Francisco. When Dr. Stewart jumped on-board the prediction bandwagon, some felt that gave new validity to the prediction, but others (mostly scientists) didn't believe it. However, a 4.6 tremor near Cape Girardeau in September 1990 got the public in a panic. I remember sitting on the floor of my apartment that morning when it happened and the shaking was so intense that I couldn't stand up. Of course, my apartment was in the upper level of a really old house which shook like Jell-o even if a large truck drove by. We did end up with damages from the natural gas line to the furnace becoming separated in the shaking and a few knick-knacks knocked off the shelves. But other than that, it wasn't any worse than any others I'd weathered previously.

The national and international media picked up the story from the Associated Press and ran with it. There were news and documentary crews from around the world descending on the little town of New Madrid. For days you could barely move through the streets because of all of the satellite trucks and big-name press talking heads who wanted to be there when it happened. What mostly happened, though, was a lot of people interviewing each other. There was a news crew from Japan that was there to measure the differences between a Japanese quake and a "big one" from the NMSZ. Every major network and publication had someone "on the ground" ready to report. In hindsight, it was rather silly of them to do that. If they had read the accounts of the actual 1811-1812 earthquakes, they'd have known that approximately 1000 people died during them -- and that's only because the area was very sparsely populated back then and there were no official counts of how many Native Americans still lived in the area. So, just for the sake of a story, everyone decided it would be best to put their top people in a small area right next to the levee holding-back the Mississippi River and wait for the big disaster to occur.

It became one of the biggest non-events ever in media history. December 2nd and 3rd came and went and nothing happened. The media and disaster tourists packed-up their things and went home. The New Madrid Museum printed t-shirts about "surviving the big one" which made fun of the fiasco that happened in their town. Dr. Browning said there was a 50% chance of it happening -- but technically there's a 50% chance of it happening any day of the week! It either does or it doesn't! But that doesn't mean it won't again....

The "New Madrid Earthquake" began on December 16, 1811 at about 2 a.m. Another major tremor happened a few hours later that reportedly knocked people off their feet and the ground could be seen rolling with the seismic waves. Landslides even destroyed small towns. Large trees were snapped in two and huge cracks appeared in the surface of the ground with large sulfur pockets being opened to the air. Sand blows erupted and the scars from them can still be seen to this day in the fertile farmland that grows soybeans, cotton, corn, milo and rice. There wasn't a seismic scale back then, but from the reports of those who survived and the geographic evidence, it's estimated that the earthquake was approximately a magnitude 8.6.



The February 7, 1812 quake was the largest and is still presumed to possibly be one of the largest earthquakes in human history. It's estimated that it would have measured a magnitude 8.8 and reportedly rang church bells in Boston and caused bricks to fall from buildings in Cincinnati. Local diaries reported people watching others walking across open fields, then feeling the shaking, and then seeing the person walking disappear into the ground. The Mississippi River began to churn and large whirlpools were created. At this time, a portion of the riverbed rose and created a fluvial tsunami which gave rise to the reports of the Mighty Mississippi "running backwards." Large waterfalls were also created and river traffic was doomed as a reported 30 boats were thrown over the falls, killing all passengers aboard. Islands in the river were completely washed-over or simply subsided, never to be seen again. And in Tennessee, the Reelfoot Lake was created as a large mass of land subsided due to the shaking and river backflow filled-in the hole. Tourists today to Reelfoot Lake will enjoy the large bald cypress trees that have grown over the centuries in this shallow lake created by geological violence.

No one knows if or when another major earthquake will occur along the NMSZ. The first report I received this morning from the U.S. Geological Survey was for a 2.5 along the NMSZ not far from one of the places I lived. You wouldn't feel one that mild, but it still shows how active the zone is. And it's another reason I'm glad I moved away from that area -- I really didn't fancy having liquifaction from the groundwater coming up through the sandy soil and creating a nice quicksand that would cause my house to sink. Nor was I very thrilled about the idea of having to fend-off neighbors and strangers who didn't stay prepared for any disaster while trying to ensure my family still had plenty of the water, food, and other supplies we'd stockpiled.

It's actually quite sad, in my opinion at least, that even though there are areas conducting "Shake-out" drills at schools and government buildings today, they're really not saying why they need to have these drills and how important it is to be prepared. Everyone thinks that earthquakes are a "California problem" and no one else should worry. Well, when the next New Madrid Earthquake strikes, millions of people in large cities like St. Louis and Memphis along with millions of others in the U.S. will find out just how dangerous a quake in the Midwest can be. And the country will never be the same after that.

Am I in or am I giving therapy?

I had to ask the question in today's title. I mean, I'm paying for a service but there are days I feel I should be getting a paycheck. Let me explain....

It's "therapy day" again! Today is when I go spend an hour with my psychologist, talk about a lot of different subjects (ADD runs the conversation), occasionally answer some questions and/or educate her on something she didn't know about, and then drive home wondering what I was supposed to get out of all of that. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy my visits there because it's one way I gauge how I'm doing with my anxiety/agoraphobia/panic/depression. If I'm really talkative (i.e. I do ALL the talking), then I'm either having a manic day or perhaps I'm feeling more comfortable because Celeste, my service dog, is asleep in the floor and there's no threat over which I should be panicked. If I'm not so talkative, then I'm back in the depressive mode or I don't want to be out in public or there just aren't enough shiny things in the room to set-off the ADD while Celeste is asleep in the floor, again showing me there's no threat over which I should be panicked.

But if someone were to watch me in my sessions or ask me what was the major point I took away from a session, 9 times out of 10 I'd have to say, "I have no idea!"

Maybe I am getting more than I think I am. But when I look back at some sessions, I really wonder who's counseling whom. When does the "student" become the "teacher?" And, at what point do the voices in my head need another good poke with a Q-Tip to get them to shut-up so I can be helped instead of "helping" by rambling on and on for an hour?

Take today for an example (it's the best one I have because I can remember it more clearly than past events since it just happened). I was asked a very simple question, "Is there anything coming up where you might be called-out to work?" By "called-out to work" she means deployed away from home working a national disaster event with a governmental agency that has a simple acronym that has been twisted and turned into good and bad definitions since August 2005. They call; I pack my stuff; I say my "goodbyes" to friends and family; and then I drive or fly to my destination to begin working for a term of not less than 90 days and all the way up to 50 weeks if it's really bad.

At the moment, there aren't any events occurring or projected that would require me to be deployed, so I told her I'm still "out-of-work" for the moment. Then the "shut-up" filter turned off and I started rambling about how I have an appointment on the 18th with an ophthalmologist, how our auditions for the local community theatre's play had to be rescheduled (and why) for the 23rd, and that this Saturday I'm going to a World War II reenactment of the Battle of the Bulge and that I'd ordered a new collar and lead for Celeste so she'll look more "authentic" in the field. The conversation wound its way through how Celeste has been around loud noises and shouldn't be afraid during the "battle" and that her breed was used by the Allies so she'll be perfect, especially since I'm doing an MP impression. It then veered off onto why I'm seeing an ophthalmologist again for the umpteenth time even though I've had nearly every test available and no one in over 20 years has been able to tell me what the heck is wrong with my vision. Finally we skidded into theatre technology and how I would love to produce a play but don't have the money and currently am wondering how in the world we'll even get the one we're holding auditions for off the ground. Then I explained how sets are built and the willing suspension of disbelief that allows the audience to believe you've actually built a Victorian house onstage when all you have is some styrofoam, lumber, starched muslin, and a lot of paint. That point somehow inexplicably led into me talking about how the Globe Theatre was constructed and plays were staged there and how I'd seen the current reconstruction of the Globe in London during the mid-1990s and that it's hard for men in corsets to project their voices without microphones. She stated that there are probably a lot of "drag queens" who'd look good onstage but I corrected her that most of the actors aren't supposed to look as if they've been "tarted-up" to be female, they're just portraying a female character by wearing the wigs and dresses because men played all the parts way back then.

Next thing I know, it's been an hour and I've talked almost incessantly and noticed that she's jotted down a few notes but I have no idea what they are. And, so, I have another appointment scheduled but it will have to be rescheduled due to the ophthalmologist appointment and someone should be calling me to set that up, thank you very much, and wandering through the waiting room as everyone there tries to guess what breed Celeste is and telling their children to not pet her. By the way, most people guess German Shepherd Dog/Doberman-mix and I let them know that they're close because those breeds came from the Beauceron and then I have to try to keep myself from going into my memorized "lecture" about the lineage of the breed. "Just get out the door" my voices start telling me. "Just get out the door and go home. You have dinner to cook and videogames we'd like to play."

All the way home (which is only about a 10-minute drive), my brain is thinking, "What are we gonna blog about today?" Nothing has happened; at least, nothing worth writing about.

This is with what I deal. Trying to be a "normal" person when you're bat-crap crazy and trying to self-therapy yourself through writing and making sure to use proper English spelling and grammar (see the previous sentence for an example) because you can't stand seeing everyone's "text-speak" and poor writing on Facebook and other places. Is it interesting? I don't know. Is it worth doing? For the moment, yes. It's an outlet where I can put on paper (virtual paper, that is) what's running through my head. It's kind of like letting a toddler or small terrier run around in the backyard. You let it go and go in the hopes it will tire itself out soon so that you can put it down for a nap and get on with the "adult" part of your life that you still haven't figured out yet.

Now, I have to make sure that dinner is still cooking in the slow-cooker and that I can squeeze-in a bit of videogame time. If I don't, I'll never hear the end of it until I finally pass-out from exhaustion tonight.