Approaching winding streets lined with manicured lawns, and homes where memories are made, I am struck by the quiet and peace as if the morning air itself is at rest. Playful children are on the path to school, without a care in the world. Parents are preparing for the routine of a normal day. Huge oak trees are standing strong and sure as if the branches are protecting this large family, known as a neighborhood. The richness of the forever-green pines, reminds me of abundance and eternity of the circles of life. Suddenly, without any warning, there is a roar, followed by a blast.

The earth is shaking as if thunder is erupting from the ground!

Crash!

Boom!

Unsettling sounds of mortar crumbling!

Walls are bursting and splitting!

Everyone has stopped. Life is no longer moving on in an orderly manner.

In a second, nothing is as it was moments earlier.

Security is shattered. Motionless bodies are frozen in unforeseen panic.

A home that was standing just moments earlier is being destroyed. This is the onslaught of destruction of that house. For the others, life will continue. They will be safe, and this day will return to normal. For me, however, nothing about this day is going to be normal. For you see, this is my house, and this is my story.