It was a calm Saturday morning just after the turn of the Twentieth Century. Sandra was putting her plan for her mother's birthday into action when the floor began to rumble beneath her feet. Vibrations shimmied up her legs. Her knees wobbled. She squeezed the egg she was about to crack. The shell shattered in her hand, the yoke oozed down her arm. Pots, pans and dishes tumbled from the kitchen shelves like a rushing waterfall. Sandra rocked back and forth and then fell to the floor. An iron skillet slid from the stove and hit her on the back of the head. A bowl containing eggs, a slab of bacon, breakfast plates and cups jittered off the table and splattered on the linoleum floor. Drawers banged open, knives and other silverware jumped from the drawers. In the midst of the noise, she thought she heard a voice say, "Quick under the table."

Sandra reached for the leg of one of the wooden chairs and pulled it out providing room to slide under and hold tight to the base of the round Maplewood table. Just as she did, the ceiling crashed down plaster and wood banged on the top of the table, fortunately the sturdy table withstood the crush. Dust plumed around her. She closed her eyes and prayed, "Please Blessed Mother, protect me."

She heard a cracking sound, she opened her eyes and saw an outside wall crumble. She could see blue sky. The house next door was all but gone. Only one wall and the fireplace stood. Every time she took a breath she sucked particles from the maelstrom up her nose and down her throat. Her eyes stung with grit.

Sandra coughed and spit up. She wondered about her parents and little Jerry. She called for her mom and dad. No answer. Tears gushed, she could feel the them plowing little canals as they ran down her dirty cheeks. Her crying turned into shrieks. She screamed, "Mama, Papa, please help." No answer, she only heard the moan of far off sirens.

She crawled out from under the table. Shards of plaster and broken dishes littered what remained of the kitchen. The roof was gone. She looked up and thought it strange that the sun was shining and there were white cotton clouds in the sky. Sandra heard a loud boom. She turned to look down the hallway where the bedrooms were located. To her horror flames licked from under the doors. Her mother came into the hallway. Her nightdress was in flames. Sandra screamed, "Mama, Papa." She managed to climb over the debris, try to reach her mother, but the flames were so hot that she was stopped. She heard her mother yell, "Get out! Save yourself." She glanced back and saw her mother crumple to the floor.
Running through the kitchen, blinded by her tears, Sandra tripped over the broken wall, and tumbled into the yard. She got up, scrambled over debris as she edged her way toward the street. The neighborhood looked as if it was in a war zone. Geysers of water shot high into the air from broken water mains. Only skeletons of some houses remained. Others were raging flames caused by exploding gas mains. Horses attached to wagons with no drivers rampaged about banging into the remnants of buildings. Neighbors dazed, covered in dust wandered about like mentally, damaged war veterans.

Sandra sat on the broken tree trunk of her favorite Cork Oak tree and cried. Mrs. Jankowski, a neighbor from across the street, her clothing in tatters, her face black with soot, tottered toward Sandra. She looked like someone who had escaped from a minstrel show. Mrs. Jankowski eased herself down next to Sandra and put an arm around her.

Sandra sobbed, "Oh, Mrs. J. I can't find my mom and dad or little Jerry. There's fire, I have to go back in and help them."

Mrs. Jankowski squeezed Sandra's arm. "No, dear, not now.

"Why not, I have to help them." She pulled away from Mrs. Jankowski, who caught her by the arm.

"No dear, you can't. There's no use. I'm so sorry."

What do you mean? It can't be. My mama and papa, I need them. No! No! She screamed.

Mrs. Jankowski, tears rolling down her cheeks, looked to heaven and made the sign of the cross. "Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry but they're gone. Mr. J. and Nancy too. We both are alone now."

"Oh, Mrs. J. I have no one and no place to go."

"You come with me. We'll go to my sister's house. Nothing you can do here."