I recall sitting in class, 11th grade at Mechanicsburg Senior High. The teacher took a call from the wall phone. She made an announcement and we proceeded to close the blinds.
My parents talked extensively that night and my dad stayed behind as we traveled to Athens, PA to stay with my cousins. I was so worried about what would happen.
I envisioned the area quarantined, never to be entered again
If it is worse than they said or a meltdown occurred, I envisioned the area quarantined, never to be entered again. I wondered where we would live. Would they let us back in for anything? I hoped we could take our dog with us. Of course I though, but still wondered. How would I find my friends? Where would they go? How would I know? I guess mail would get forwarded so I might find them.
I worried about my dad, if he was safe
I pictured how the area would look over time, grass overgrown, birds still picking at the ground. Certain life would go on but absent of humans, the very being that caused it all.
I worried about my dad, if he was safe, if looters decided to tear up the town. He was a writer and just starting up a little music store, Reid’s Instrument shop, 71 W. Main st. Mechanicsburg.
I recall when hurricane Agnes hit and flooded out his building in Harrisburg where he and my grandfather had their editorial business in the old Telegraph building. We waded through the flooded waters, the elevator operator still on duty, took us up to gather things, the splash back down to the main floor and we survived.
My father started the store in Mechanicsburg years later and now we were in another disaster. I could not help him this time. We were sent away.
I grew up that day.
This was from a MASH yearbook committee group photo.
As we watched the news and meltdown, denial, partial meltdown, reality, and then the OK to return home. The drive home was surreal. Going back to normal everyday life was not what I thought would happen. We couldn’t enjoy the break from school, the time with family, as worry filled out heads.
A few weeks later, I went as close as possible to TMI and took photographs. One of them ended up in our yearbook. Life changed for us that day. I have Graves disease, and a thyroid nodule also. Biopsy showed no cancer. I have planned for an emergency, top off my gas tank, have certain bags packed, and my family knows where I will go if communication is cut off, and what post office will have info on my location.
More recently, with the news of TMI possibly shutting down, I was glad. It should be turned to a hydro plant or something that does not have the potential to change a teen into someone who worries about society, protests against nuclear arms, gets disgusted with society easily. Wants to move to a safer area, only to discover nuclear plants are everywhere.
I grew up that day. But I lost my youth and innocence about the world at the same time. I understood what war must be like. To evacuate your homeland and worry about those left behind. I grew up that day, along with many others. Life changed forever.
Ginny