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As one who was once involved but unscathed in an earthquake, my heart goes out to the victims of the one that hit Haiti this morning.
An earthquake, certainly one of magnitude 7, is hell on earth and especially when it hits during darkness. There is the initial quake, toppling buildings in an instant and killing hundreds of people. Strong aftershocks then follow, again causing more damage to weakened buildings and killing yet more.
The power goes out and, with it, all light and communications. Frightened people cannot see properly to find survivors, chaos will reign for a while and there will be a strong instinct to stay out in the open for days on end while the aftershocks continue. Shops and stores, such as they are in that troubled country, will have been demolished and food and water difficult to get. What resources are available will be quickly grabbed. Hospitals will be overwhelmed.
Once daylight appears, I expect the various relief forces will quickly appear and some semblance of order will follow. But order in this hell on earth cannot help those whose relatives and friends have been killed or maimed or whose properties have been demolished. It cannot help, in the short-term at any rate, those whose livelihoods have suddenly been destroyed.
And it cannot help frightened people get used to the thousands of aftershocks and tremors that will follow for weeks on end in which gut instinct will suggest that another earthquake is upon them. That feeling of insecurity, overwhelming at times, is not to be underestimated and nothing can be done to soften it until the tremors disappear.
We are so far away from this latest tragedy, and there is little we can do at this distance to help except make donations to the relief funds that will surely be set up.
But we can try to understand the plight of the people of Haiti at this time and sympathise with them with all our hearts. It must surely be hell on earth.
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As one who was once involved but unscathed in an earthquake, my heart goes out to the victims of the one that hit Haiti this morning.
An earthquake, certainly one of magnitude 7, is hell on earth and especially when it hits during darkness. There is the initial quake, toppling buildings in an instant and killing hundreds of people. Strong aftershocks then follow, again causing more damage to weakened buildings and killing yet more.
The power goes out and, with it, all light and communications. Frightened people cannot see properly to find survivors, chaos will reign for a while and there will be a strong instinct to stay out in the open for days on end while the aftershocks continue. Shops and stores, such as they are in that troubled country, will have been demolished and food and water difficult to get. What resources are available will be quickly grabbed. Hospitals will be overwhelmed.
Once daylight appears, I expect the various relief forces will quickly appear and some semblance of order will follow. But order in this hell on earth cannot help those whose relatives and friends have been killed or maimed or whose properties have been demolished. It cannot help, in the short-term at any rate, those whose livelihoods have suddenly been destroyed.
And it cannot help frightened people get used to the thousands of aftershocks and tremors that will follow for weeks on end in which gut instinct will suggest that another earthquake is upon them. That feeling of insecurity, overwhelming at times, is not to be underestimated and nothing can be done to soften it until the tremors disappear.
We are so far away from this latest tragedy, and there is little we can do at this distance to help except make donations to the relief funds that will surely be set up.
But we can try to understand the plight of the people of Haiti at this time and sympathise with them with all our hearts. It must surely be hell on earth.
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