Down the way from us lives the 1st Infantry Division at Fort Riley. The Big Red One troops are currently deployed to Iraq, and those who are not being deployed or re-deployed (that means going and returning in civilian lingo) are busy on base with details, details, details, and training.
This evening, just as the sun set, our house shook. This is to say: the floor vibrated, the windows shook, and that Spouse o' Mine and I looked at each other curiously. Less than sixty seconds later, another shock, same intensity as the first. That Spouse o' Mine asked, "Is that Fort Riley?" I assumed it was, and checked their Noise/Training Advisory website. "The training scheduled for this period is not expected to produce any significant noise impact for the area."
And *BOOM*! A third shock. We went outside to wait for a fourth. Maybe it was an earthquake? (The epicenter of Kansas' largest earthquake, Magnitude 5.1, was just a couple of miles down the road from us the "other way" from Ft. Riley, in 1867. So...one never knows...)
Well. There was no fourth.
Every time we experience sensations from Fort Riley's artillery practices, (I call them Bombing Days), I pause a moment to think about the human beings, families with kids, who actually experience the real deal. I am thankful we live in relative safety here in ol' rural Kansas...
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