Journal Entry

Prose by Nichole Hastings

Mother Nature Speaks: Press Release : Valley News – June 24, 2010

Press Release: Valley News – June 24, 2010

5.0 Earthquake Outside Ottawa Raises Buzz in Upper Valley

By Bret Yager | Valley News Staff Writer

Lebanon – So, did you feel it?

That was the buzz all over the Upper Valley and the Northeast following the 5.0 earthquake in Ontario yesterday afternoon.

The quake, which struck just after 1:41 p.m. and was downgraded from a 5.5, occurred about 33 miles northeast of Ottawa at a depth of 12 miles, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.  The pulsations in the ground set dishware rattling and rooms swaying, prompting numerous residents to call media outlets and check earthquake Web sites.

“The whole room went left to right and right to left for about 15 seconds.  It was pretty weird.” said John Yacavone, an employee at Northeast Mailing Systems on the corner of Bank and Elm streets in Lebanon.  He’d never felt anything quite like it.

Lebanon and hartland police, and Vermont Emergency Management said there were no reports of damage from the quake.  More than 8,500 people from as far east as Oxford, Maine, and west as far as Cleveland went online to the U.G.S. Web site to report feeling the temblor in the first hour and a half following the event.  Around Lebanon, White River Junction and Hanover, about 35 people used the site to report light shaking.

John Ebel, director of the Weston Observatory at Boston College, said most reports indicate people felt the ground shake for about 30 seconds.  In Boston, panic led to the evacuation of a couple of buildings, he said.

The quake struck on the southern edge of the Western Quebec Seismic Zone according to the U.S.G.S. summary.  Earthquakes in the zone are generally mild, with three or four felt in the region each year and a damaging event once a decade.  A magnitude 6.1 occurred in 1935.

Nichole Hastings, who felt the shaking on Green Street in Lebanon, saw particular significance in the timing of yesterday’s shaker.

“It happened at 1:41 p.m.; that’s a palindrome number, one that reads the same forward and backward,” said Hastings, who sees a correlation with a pressurized, out-of-control oil leak and sudden thunderstorms in the Midwest.

“Nature is saying something.  She’s saying think about how you’re treating me.  Love me, don’t hurt me.”

Hastings may have seen even more portent in the exact timing, which, according to the U.S. Geological Survey was 1:41:41.  This was Hastings’ fourth quake; she experienced three others in Japan.  Yesterday, she was sitting at a computer when her chair started moving.

“I said, ‘This is a neighborhood, there are no giant trucks that go by,'” Hastings said.  “I look up and see the house visibly swaying.  When you feel the earth move, there is nothing more amazing than that.”

Hastings estimated the feeling of “thunder” lasted about five or six minutes, but acknowledged that time might be hard to calculate under those circumstances.

A few miles closer to the epicenter, in Post Mills, Joan Solger estimated the shaking lasting no more than three or four seconds.

“The house just started cracking like it was being hit with big drops of rain,” said Solger, whose husband was outdoors and didn’t feel a thing.  “Then all of a sudden, it was like being on a roller coaster.”

Ebel said the last time the region felt a comparable quake was in April 2002, when a magnitude 5.1 hit the Adirondacks region.

Odds are , this was a single event that will be followed by small after-shocks in coming days and weeks,”  Ebel said. “But there are a few instances in the historic record where a quake of this size was followed by a larger one or one of comparable size.  We can’t rule out another event; it’s just not very likely.”

Steve Foltz, a mapper with Geographic Services Corp. on Court Street in Lebanon, said he felt a very gentle rocking.  Some three decades ago or so, he’d been in southern Vermont and experienced a quake with an epicenter in New Hampshire.  That one made a roar like an oncoming train.

“I didn’t hear that noise this time,”  Foltz said.  “But someone down the hall did.  She went up on the roof to see if someone was up there banging around.”

Bret Yager can be reached at byager@vnews.com, or 603-727-3209.

Footnote:

The article was not published online on the site, only in print.

A Comedy of Errors – Act 3

Sunday June 20, 2010

I wake up early, around 8:00am or so.  Maxwell and I start out on our morning jaunt, heading up Green Street, to Allen Street and then on Bank Street towards the Junior High School.  We make it as far as WISE and I stop there, looking in the door.  They’re closed.

I start heading down the stairs.  I hear the door behind me open.  I know the woman and she comes outside to talk to me.  I tell her what happened and a few minutes into it. the woman planting flowers around the corner appears and offers to take Maxwell for a walk.  I share the prior night’s events, every detail I can recall.  She listens. She says I can use her office.

The gardener walked Maxwell around the building a few times and hands him back to me.  Just as we are about to go inside, I see a tiny figure standing inside the door.  Maxwell, of course, gets very excited at the presence of another dog.  Once inside though, the two dogs assess each other.  Circling each other, sniffing.  They start to play.

I head upstairs to use the woman’s office.  She suggests I call the Attorney General and contact Hanover’s Chief of the Police.  She has a meeting to get back to.  Maxwell follows me up, assesses the room, then trots off a little while later downstairs.  I call the Hanover police and ask to be connected with the Chief of Police.  He’s not in.  It is Sunday.  I leave a voicemail.  I call the Attorney General’s number but there is no answering service to leave the call.  I call an alternate number, and a man’s voice answers.  He says he’s with the Security.  I ask him if he’s ever worked for the police before.  A lot of people in Security have and he says. “Yes.”  I tell him about what happened and ask if this is normal police procedure.  He tells me, he doesn’t know.  Then says, he never worked for the police.  I thank him for his time and hang up.

I go and look for Maxwell.  I want to get out of there and decide to take a friend’s suggestion.  I walk over to a law office on School Street crying.  The office isn’t open yet so I sit down at the end of the walkway, my feet on the sidewalk.  I call my friend Gary, the answering machine picks up, I leave a message.  I sit there.  Crying.  My phone rings, it’s Gary.  I tell him about what happened.  A man parked nearby and standing outside his car thankfully keeps his distance.

The door to the law office opens and a man walks out asking me if there’s anything he can help me with.  I tell Gary, where I am and I have to go.  He says he’ll call later.  He’s got a meeting to go to.

I walk up and introduce myself.  I graduated high school with the man’s daughter.  I tell him about the situation and prior evening’s events.  He tells me to get three things, write down every detail, get a copy of the police report and my doctor’s note.  I thank him and walk back to my friend’s house.  There I call another friend who is a lawyer.  She had helped me before and been the Justice of the Peace who married my ex-husband and I.  She listens and says that the lawyer who had advised me the night of the incident made an error.  A possible breach in confidentiality if he was advising me of what to do if he had identified himself as a lawyer.  She gives me the name and number of a gentleman to call who deals with police brutality cases.  I feel despair.

I sit down at the computer and begin typing out what happened.  I get to the part where I get into the police car and I cant go on.  I can’t focus.  My stomach is clenched and Steve gets me to eat a little something.  I wander around the house.  I call my friend, Pete and leave a message.  I ask him what his favorite color is.  I need to get out of the house.  My head hurts just thinking about all of this.  I need to get away from the house.  I decide to finish the morning walk.  It’s around noon.

We head out, walking up Green Street to Shaw, then to Bank Street.  We walk by the junior high school, past where the Riverdale Store used to be.  Past the field I had played T-ball and Little League in.  It was a long time ago but the field still looks the same.  We head left onto the Heater Road.  I feel detached from reality.  When Maxwell and I reach the intersection to cross over heading towards the Mount Support Road I don’t stop.  I don’t look.  I pray for a car to hit me.  I just don’t care.  A dangerous frame of mind to have.  And as I approach the four-way intersection where I’ll take a right I think about my friend, Maidie.  I’m supposed to meet her and hang out today.  A follow-up to her graduation from Nursing School Party.

I call her then my friend, Miriam and ask her what time she is heading to Norwich to Maidie’s.  She says she’ll pick me up.  She’s already on the road.  I ask her to meet me on the other side of the walking bridge at the first gas station.  She agrees but when I arrive, I get the feeling she’ll be a while so I walk on past to the Listen Center where I work.  A new job but I decide to just pop in and get  coffee.  I’m dying for a cigarette.  I hate that feeling because I quit March 17th.

I talk to my manager and some of the others there telling them what happened.  I can’t help but talk about it.  I’m still shell-shocked I suppose.  Love my new job.  The people I work with there are lovely and I gladly call them all friends.  I never did get to that coffee.  Instead, I make sure Maxwell gets lots of water.  It’s hot out there.  Miriam calls me and I head out.  I get in the back seat and ask if she or Horus has a cigarette.  They’re planning on stopping at Dan & Whit’s, thank god.  And on the way I fill Horus in on the details.

We get to Maidie’s and it is just a perfect hot sunny day.  Everyone is getting ready to go down by the river swimming.  They were just waiting for us to get there so we can all eat.  Everyone is starving, we eat and eat good.  It’s nice to be with friends.  We all head down to the river to swim.  It’s nice to have my mind distracted.  I have some good friends.  My friend, Seth calls.  He lent me his digital camera for the trail but it’s back in Lebanon.  We make a plan for him to stop by later to pick me up, drive there and pick it up.

We hang, he shows, I tell him what happened.  We walk with everyone over to the trestle bridge nearby.  Maidie and the kids want to jump off.  I don’t swim much anymore.  It’s rare.  And I haven’t done a jump like that in a couple of years.  Last time it was from 20′ up off a rock into a river pool of icy water.  I hesitated once, twice but the third time’s the charm.  Seth and I head after a short while.  I give Maidie a big hug before I go.  She’s my gal and moving soon with her kids to PA.

I ask if it’s possible to stop by and see the Odyssey and where it’s parked.  I’m so distracted now thinking about all that happened once we’re away we drive by the van twice.  Poor Seth.  How patient he is with me.  How thankful I am to him.  When we finally make it to the car I see the driver’s side window is still down.  It rained last night.  The interior is a cloth upholstery.  I just reach in and unlock the door to take a look inside.  Anyone could.  I can’t put the window up.  The car needs to be on for that.  I lock the car and we get back into Seth’s.  I hate hate hate leaving it there like that but what else can I do…nothing.  It’ll sit there until Monday evening when my friends get back, driver’s side window open.  I just hope to god it doesn’t rain.

Footnote:

AMERICANS WITH DISABILITIES ACT OF 1990
[(2) Specific prohibitions
(A) Discrimination
For purposes of subsection (a) of this section, discrimination includes
(i) the imposition or application of eligibility criteria that screen out or tend to screen out an individual with a disability or any class of individuals with disabilities from fully and equally enjoying any goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations, unless such criteria can be shown to be necessary for the provision of the goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations being offered;]

Mother Nature Speaks

Journal Entry: June 23, 2010

1:41 (pm) and 5.5 (Richter Scale) are perfect palindromes.

Ottawa contains a palindrome, awa and has 6 letters which when divided by 2, tt equal 1, O.  When looking at how this word is laid out and divides itself from back-to-front we can see the destruction of the word and how it turns back on itself.

4 natural weather occurences all stemming from 1 man-made incident: the uncapping of the BP oil disaster this morning.

4 is the unluckiest number in Japan because it also means ‘death‘.

1 followed by a 4 followed by a 1. Circular and all stemming from 1 thing and coming back to it.

Canada, Ottawa, Lattitude: 45°27’N, Longitude: 75°42’W.

is about the same

BP Oil Spill, Lattitude: 42.34 N, Longitude: 78.46 W

A Comedy of Errors – Act 2

The ride to the Hanover Police Station is a blur.  At one point I ask the officer, “Do you know the definition of the word ‘rape’?  It’s nothing sexual.  It means to take someone or something by force.  There was a famous painting, by Titian, The Rape of the…”  I trail off because I can’t remember the name of the painting.  He retorts, “Thanks for the history lesson.”

I tell him, “You can’t just do whatever you want to people.”  He replies, “we can do whatever we want when you’re in our custody.”

He continues to tell me I am intoxicated.  My mind is boggled.  Has this man ever drank before?  Do drunk people speak as I do?  I ask him if he’s happy.  He says he is.  I ask him, “What’s something you do that makes you happy?”  He says nothing.  I continue, “Because happy people have an easy time answering that question.  Are you that unhappy with being unable to fight ‘real’ crime?”  I don’t recall a clear answer.  I suppose that was a bit crass to ask in retrospect but I ask a lot of people that question because I seriously want to know.  Happiness is an important thing.

We arrive at the station, he parks and gets out.  He opens the door and tells me to get out.  He tells me to stand here.  And then stand there.  He opens the door to the building and tells me to go inside.  I do.  He tells me to sit, pointing at a metal bench.  I sit. He tells me to stand. I stand.  He tells me he’s taking the cuffs off.  I’m so irritated with this rigamarole.  I say, “I was just standing, you tell me to sit.  If you knew you were going to take the cuffs off, why did I have to sit then stand again?”  He walks away telling me to sit.  I stand.

He stands there asking me questions.  A few minutes later I hear Maxwell, barking for me through a metal door to my right.  The other officer enters.  I tell them that he is a Service Animal, prescribed by my doctor for anxiety, and I would like to please have him with me.  They refuse.  one of them goes on to say, if he’s a service animal then I would have proof, papers, a card and tells me to prove it.  I tell him, “Do you understand that what you’re asking is illegal?  No one can demand to see proof of a Service Animal according to the American Disabilities Act.  Would you please give me my dog.  I need him with me.”  They refuse.

I say, “What are your names?  I would like to see some credentials, business cards, someting saying who you are.”  They both laugh and walk out of the room together leaving me alone.

The dark-haired officer reappears and stands behind the counter at a computer.  His fingers angrily clicking the keyboard.  I feel so weary and anxious because there are times when I can’t hear Maxwell at all.  All I can think is, “What the hell are they doing to him?  Where is he?”  My head is spinning.  I’m freezing and shaking.

At one point, I look up and see the sign saying that the room is under video surveillance and sound recorded.  I gesture to it asking him to explain to me why it is I’m here again.  He tells me, “It has already been explained to you.”  I say, “Now that we’re under surveillance you won’t say, huh?  Just say it once more, for posterity.”  He repeats, “It’s already been explained to you.”

I tell him, “Honey, you have made a gross error in judgement.  There is a fine line between pride and foolishness and you are being, well, idiots.  You are making a mistake here that you are going to regret.  Just think about it for one moment reasonably and logically.”  He stares down at me, “If you are not intoxicated then prove it.  Take a breathilizer and prove it.”  I stare back at him, unblinking, “You drag me out of my vehicle, handcuff me, bring me here on some bogus charge, oh that’s right, I’m not being charged.  But on hearsay and now you want me to take a breathilizer? No, I will not.  This is ridiculous.  You can’t treat people this way.  Tis means that anyone could point at any other person on the street and say they did something bad and you can go and get them?”

He tells me to come stand against the wall so they can take my picture, a photograph, they do it to everyone who comes in.  I tell him, “No.  If I’m not being charged with anything or arrested then no.  You do not have my permission to take my photograph.”  He turns the camera at me and I hold my hand up in front of me looking away.

I repeatedly ask for my dog, about 20 times saying ‘please’.  I re-explain that he is prescribed to me and a service animal.  My request is repeatedly refused.

The phone is turned and slammed at me on the counter.  I’m told if I don’t get a ride, someone to come pick me up then I’ll be ‘put in jail’.  I tell them I want my cell phone.  All my numbers are in it and I can’t make any calls until I do.  They bring me my cell phone.  I call two lawyers, including my divorce lawyer, and Barb and Steve.  It’s 2:00am in the morning and I feel like a complete idiot because I’m house-sitting and they were kind enough to lend me their car as well.  They have to be woken out of bed and are away in the Cape for a funeral.  I call my friends Val and Chuck praying.  They pick up as I’m leaving a message.  Val is working in the morning and Chuck has to work a double.  Val says she’ll come pick me up.

I tell them I have a ride on the way and can I please have my dog.  They stare at me, almost seeming to enjoy my anxiety, and tell me I can have him when my ride gets here.  They leave me shaking and shivering alone again.  I can’t hear Maxwell.  I don’t know where he is and he’s all I really have in this world.

One of the officers enters again and I ask for my dog.  He tells me they ran my license, which means they went into my purse, searching it, and my license has been expired since October 4, 2009.  I say to him, “You must be mistaken.”  He looks it up again behind the counter and tells me the same thing.  All I can think is, my payments are up-to-date with that lawyer in Concord and I received no notification from the State of New Hampshire.  How can this be? I call the layer and leave a voicemail asking for him to please contact me Monday morning about this matter.  I ask again for my dog once I am off the phone.  He says, my ride is here so I may.  They walk me through the metal door to my right.  They hand me my purse.  Maxwell’s leash is being held by an officer and he is pulling against it for me.  I pick him up, he is so happy to see me and I him.  They walk me out to Val.  As we’re walking away, the officer says, “Well you better get that license figured out.  Have a nice day.”

To be continued…

Footnote:

AMERICANS WITH DISABILITIES ACT OF 1990
[(2) Specific prohibitions
(A) Discrimination
For purposes of subsection (a) of this section, discrimination includes
(i) the imposition or application of eligibility criteria that screen out or tend to screen out an individual with a disability or any class of individuals with disabilities from fully and equally enjoying any goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations, unless such criteria can be shown to be necessary for the provision of the goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations being offered;]

A Comedy of Errors – Act 1

Written at 3:03am on June 20, 2010.

I left Maidie’s graduation party around 11:30pm. I wasn’t feeling well. I was tired and wanted to go to bed. My stomach has been upset since I got off the 100 Mile Wilderness. I don’t ever discuss such things because I find it so disgusting but I have been passing the smelliest gas and the bowel movements…urg.  It’s tough adjusting from the trail diet to the rich and fatty foods of the regular American diet.  And a dinner of veggie burgers, sauteed onions dripping in oil and a very wet mayonnaisey macaroni salad was not sitting well on the stomach.

When I get into Hanover, on my way to Lebanon, I start to feel very anxious. A reaction I have when I feel unwell. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I have gas and the smell of it is making me nauseous. I feel like I may throw up.

I pull Barb and Steve Teeter’s Odyssey into a parking spot. I sit there with the anxiety of the situation rolling over me in waves. I break out into a body sweat, I have tunnel vision, I feel like I’m going to pass out. I don’t know how long I sat there suffering this reaction to pass.

The car door opens and an African American gentleman wearing a lanyard and tag around his neck looks in. He tells me that there are three cops standing nearby and he overheard them saying they were going to “bust her” when I started the car. He said that he’s a lawyer. He suggested that I take a cab ride home or get out of the driver’s seat, remove the keys from the ignition and sleep for a little while. I take his suggestions but I have no money for a cab. I’m too embarrassed to talk about my stomach issues and the passing of gas. He closes the door.

I get into the back of the vehicle to lay down and wait for this attack to pass. The hot flash has passed and the sweat chills my body. I am laying on my side with my back to the door on the floor with Maxwell. I hear the door behind me open. I look up to see a flashlight and the faces of two police officers peering in. They tell me that a man came up to them and told them I was intoxicated and worried that I may try to drive myself home. I tell them I am fine, just not feeling well and am taking respite. They tell me I cannot stay there. I ask them if there is a curfew or a time limit on the parking space I’m occupying. They repeat, saying I cannot stay there and continue on to tell me I can’t stay there because I am intoxicated. They then go on to say that they are taking me into protective custody. I tell them I don’t need protection. I need rest.

The officers grab my arms and pull me out of the vehicle. They handcuff me, hands behind the back. I tell them I want to call my lawyer and they grab my cell phone, tearing it out of my hands. They hold my upper arms high up, hurting me and walk me across the street in front of 100 or so people gathered for some event under tents, as if I’m a violent criminal. I call out asking them during this entire process, “What am I being charged with?” The officers say once or twice that I’m not being charged with anything. They say I’m not being arrested. They’re placing me in protective custody.

I say repeatedly to all the bystanders, “These police officers have just accosted me, cuffed me and they won’t tell me what I am being charged with. Help! They assaulted me in my vehicle and apparently I’m not under arrest. I am handcuffed and I refuse to get into this police vehicle.”

http://creativetime.org/programs/archive/2007/sussman/welcome.html
Intervention of the Sabine Woman

A woman walking along the sidewalk, as well as many others stare at me and the officers. She slows and stands feet away listening to me refuse to get into the police vehicle and telling the officers that I would like to know why I am being treated this way. They keep saying I am intoxicated. Not once have they asked me why I was parked or even read me my rights.

The blond-haired officer keeps trying to push me forcibly into the police cruiser. I tell him that I am not getting in and that I would like to know why I am being treated this way. He tells me he is going to “spray” me if I don’t comply. The woman asks me what my name is during this struggle and the blond-haired officer says, “She’s nobody.” I tell the woman my name is Nichole Hastings. She repeats my name and says, “I’m a witness.” She asks me to please get into the vehicle, repeating that she is a witness. a dark complexioned man is standing less than ten feet away silently watching.

I sit down on the edge of the back seat, my legs and feet blocking the door from shutting. The dark-haired officer opens the other back seat door. The blond officer tells the dark-haired one to “Grab her and pull her in.” I turn and look the dark-haired officer dead in the eye and tell him, “Don’t touch me.” He hesitates in reaching for me. I turn, pull my legs in and sit in the back of the cruiser. They shut the doors. I sit there. Bewildered.

Footnote:

AMERICANS WITH DISABILITIES ACT OF 1990
[(2) Specific prohibitions
(A) Discrimination
For purposes of subsection (a) of this section, discrimination includes
(i) the imposition or application of eligibility criteria that screen out or tend to screen out an individual with a disability or any class of individuals with disabilities from fully and equally enjoying any goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations, unless such criteria can be shown to be necessary for the provision of the goods, services, facilities, privileges, advantages, or accommodations being offered;]