Carrig Of Dromara

by Frances McCaughey

“Josh, Tilly, are you in there? It’s Carrig here.”

  The door opened slowly and a very dazed-looking Josh poked his head round the corner.

  “Who’s there? What is it?” Tilly’s voice came from the darkness at the back of the house.

  “It’s OK, love, it’s Mr Anderson come to see how we are. What was it? We thought it must be an earthquake or something.” The young man spoke in muffled tones.

  “Yes, it was definitely an earthquake – and a big one by all accounts.” Carrig went on in a comforting way: “Come up to the house and have some breakfast with us, and we can have a chat about what comes next.”

  It was about an hour later when Josh and Tilly came to the kitchen door with torches and a battery for the transistor radio.

  “I heard on my wee radio that it was a large earthquake and there was no one killed – to this point anyhow. Thank God for that.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Carrig answered.

  Louise came downstairs.

  “Well, we certainly didn’t expect to wake up to all this. Have you seen the kitchen yet? It’s still dark, but you can see the mess on the floor.”

  “I thought you could use these few cups and plates and batteries for the radio,” said Tilly.

  They all sat down in the living room to tea and toast.

  “How did you make the toast?” Josh asked, mystified.

  “Well, many years ago an old friend who was a blacksmith gave this fork to me on my tenth birthday, and I have used it many times since then – especially when we have electricity cuts in winter.”

  “I believe the whole centre of Christchurch is a wreck.” Louise spoke as she gave everyone a large mug of tea each.

  “Just what the doctor ordered,” Tilly said, and they all four sat in silence for a while, thinking of those less fortunate than themselves.

  “We’ll assess the damage when full daylight comes and then decide where to begin the clean-up.” Carrig took control of the situation, knowing they were all suffering from shock and would be for some time.

  Seismologists predicted there would be a series of aftershocks for some time after the big earthquake, and true to their word there was a series of them, some lasting just a second and others several seconds. Everyone became so used to them that even nurses in the hospital wheeling a trolley along a corridor just hesitated momentarily and continued on with their work. The student army carried on shovelling liquefaction and the women in the homes nearby fed them without a thought. Farmers came into the city with their tractors and front-end loaders to help with the clean-up and then came with large trucks. All day long they moved to and from the city, clearing rubble, until the pile became so high. They knew it might be brought back again when the rebuild began, to be used as foundation fill. Homes were red-stickered, which meant people were forbidden to enter them until a clearance was given. Many people were ‘displaced’ and some slept wherever they could find a place. Many slept in their cars or in garages. The fortunate ones were transported to temporary shelters set up by the Red Cross. The Salvation Army collected food and clothing. Everybody played a part in the recovery, even those who dropped toiletries at their local chemist, to be collected each day. The newspapers were filled with stories of miraculous survival. Some people were buried for long periods under heavy rubble. Feats of superhuman strength were reported each day in the news. One young man lifted a car off a woman’s body, saving her life in the process.

  A memorial service is held on the anniversary of the event each year, and the relatives of the dead have become friends, supporting one another in their grief.

  One hundred and eighty-five white chairs were placed on the corner of Cashel and Madras Streets in the city as a reminder of what happened on that fateful day.

  The people were slowly getting back to some sort of normality in their lives – a new normality, where precious objects, for many, hold little value, and where human life is of the utmost importance.

  On this beautiful but shaky little strip of land in the South Pacific Ocean the population remember to make things right with the Almighty, because He is very much in charge of things, and we – tiny mortals that we are – would do well to remember that this all-powerful Almighty God reigns supreme. We can deny or ignore Him for so long, but in the end He will come to us in peace and love. This is what He is – peace and love – and we all need love, and we certainly need peace . . . an hour.

  Also available