The recent fire in the Goleta hills and the community meetings that have touched on volunteerism made me think that volunteering and helping others is something that doesn’t always come naturally. This emergency reminded me of a past experience that changed me forever.
It was September of 1985, when a devastating, deadly earthquake hit Mexico City. Tens of thousands of people died, most of them were buried beneath their collapsed home, office, or hospital. My family and I were physically untouched. We were one of the few lucky ones who did not have a relative die, either. After the 8.3 shake we lost the power, we couldn’t drink the contaminated water due to ruptured pipes, and all we could hear were the sirens of ambulances day and night amplified by an otherwise eerie silence; no cars or buses were out on the streets, and no people were walking around going about their life. Nothing but the smell of death and suffering permeated my beloved city.
Santa Barbara Edhat | Doing Small Things.
Tags: art, Cars, family, Mexico
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