Prepping in General Means You’re Prepped for Specific Events

Being laid up with a nasty cold accompanied by a throbbing head and upset stomach gave me time to go through the articles I’d written on this laptop in the past 3-4 years and delete articles that have already posted, as well as article ideas that haven’t been developed into articles yet.  And then I came across this article that I wrote three years ago and forgot to post. 

It was one heck of an interesting night here this past Sunday.  It started out normally, just like life usually is right before something comes at you out of left field.

We went to church earlier in the day, KOTPE and Buttercup came over after lunch and naps, and we played some games.  Then it was time to set the table and put out the food which I’d prepared the day previous before the missionaries joined us for dinner.  All normal stuff.  Oh yeah, KOTPE, Buttercup, the girls, and the missionaries all passed a couple of fire trucks at the ranch a mile and a half below us, but no big deal.

We eat, Elder Richardson and Elder Christensen share a brief message, and Aaron and Ellie take the elders out to visit the sheep and the new lambs.  The missionaries leave.  Everything is still normal.

And then all the lights start flashing.  And another emergency vehicle drives up.  I couldn’t tell what it was due to the distance—I was just walking from the barn back to the house.  Back at the house, the binoculars reveal that the county bomb squad car is now on the scene.  (Our tiny—population-wise—county has a bomb squad?!)  And vehicles are not being allowed to pass in either direction.  So the missionaries return, because the only other way out involves a two-hour detour.  On dirt roads.  Which could be muddy.  With no signs.  In the dark. 

My brother-in-law is (or will be, not sure of the exact timing) a fire captain in this county, and he finally replied to a text my husband sent a while earlier.  We figured he’d be busy, and we knew he’d respond when he could.  The old farmhouse that was in the process of being torn down apparently had some very old explosives that the owners weren’t aware of.  The fire department powers that be were discussing how to remediate the situation and whether the house would just be burned down.  The road was still blocked.  They couldn’t say when they would open it.  It was now approaching 8:00 PM, which is past bedtime for those working at the local mines.  It’s over an hour commute for both my husband and son, and their shifts start at 6:00 AM.  So they have their alarms set for 4:00 AM. 

KOTPE made the first call to his boss and got cleared to work at home.  Aaron followed suit.  Unfortunately, KOTPE could only work from home if he had his computer, which was at his house, normally a 10-minute drive.  He drove down to the bomb squad to see if there was any other possible detour.  (Yes, we know of the need for alternate routes out.  We knew of the true emergency 2-hour detour route.  And the other major detour route was just on the other side of the bomb squad and farmhouse.)  Nope, the guy there didn’t know of anything.  Buttercup also had a substitute teaching job at an elementary school scheduled for the next morning.  The only thing they could do was stay the night with us and hope for the best.

The missionaries, however, were in a bit of a pickle.  They didn’t have the miles (or desire) to make the two-hour detour.  And staying the night in an already full house wasn’t going to fly.  They were going to have to walk their way out.  The easy, direct route was right past the farmhouse, so that was a no-go.  The only other option was to hike along a mountainside path we took the previous week and which would take them, eventually, toward the highway.  They had no coats.  The battery for their phones was low.  And as they had never been on that path before, they needed KOTPE and the girls to guide them.  Safety in numbers, and all that.  Because we also have mountain lions here.  Oh, and of course, the missionaries didn’t have flashlights, either.  And believe it or not, there wasn’t even a moon to light their path. 

So Aaron gave them coats to wear and a flashlight that would also charge their phone as they walked.  KOTPE and Buttercup didn’t have clothes or toiletries, but fortunately, we did.  I had already thought that we should have a set of clothes and Aaron’s insulin at KOTPE and Buttercup’s house in case something came up and we couldn’t return to our house.  KOTPE apparently had had the same thought but dismissed it.  Clothes for the baby (who arrives in six weeks!), sure.  Babies always need spare clothes, but KOTPE and Buttercup only live 10 minutes away.  It just seemed silly.  But after Sunday night’s excitement, now it seems like a good idea.  Because you never know when the bomb squad will show up next.