Modern communications are wonderful. I can talk to people via e-mail, instant messages or Skype all around the world. In a matter of minutes, I can talk to friends in Scotland, Ireland, Great Britain, and the Netherlands and on the other side of the world, to Australia and New Zealand.
When blizzards hit Europe over Christmas, I was able to find out that Heather in Scotland was safe though stuck in the Highlands. I learned that things were not that bad with the Crisps, who live in Essex. Bernie Dunn, former Wisconsinite who has lived in and loved Amsterdam for 35 years, video taped the vehicles sliding around and posted his treks around the city on You Tube and alerted me of that on Facebook. He was able to show me what was going on as he Skyped in from a restaurant.
When an earthquake hit New Zealand, Margaret Copland was able to reassure me within an hour to tell me all was well.
However, when the communications system breaks down, I begin to worry. Sue Robin, from Brisbane, gave me updates about the Australian floods as they progressed down the Brisbane River through Queensland. Places I visited there, like Toowoomba, were inundated, but she thought that Brisbane would be fine if the dam hold. Hold it did, but only by letting the overflow go through the system, meaning that parts of the city were flooded. But it was at that point that Sue stopped sending me reports. Did her beautiful home overlooking the river survive? Her children have homes in the flood zone. Are they OK? And what about an elderly couple she told me about that required care for their dementia. Were they and their caregivers evacuated in time?
So I wait until the lines of communications are opened again. Meanwhile, I worry.
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