. . . The fortified stone shelter was thought to be strong enough to withstand the trauma that would result from the earth's departing its axis. It was however, difficult to enter and not large enough to accommodate everyone. He sat on one of the bus-stop benches, brought into the First National Bank Building to seat the throngs, between his youngest son and his best friend, staring blankly at the obviously futile efforts toward protecting building's inhabitants including the blocking of all windows and doors with concrete. Catching a last glimpse of the the cloudy grey sky as the concrete wall was sliding into place, his son asked compassionately if he thought Mom had safely reached the shelter and was there a plan to re-unite when the disaster passed. He tried, however unconvincingly, to comfort his youngest in the affirmative but harbored greater uncertainty than even he wanted to admit. . .
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