Fred, Ethel and Roger arrived shortly after eight to find Frank already there waiting for his friend, checker board in hand. Martha didn’t play cards but sat in her rocking chair by the stove, listening to the conversation at the table and the occasional muffled laughter from the boys upstairs. It was nearly eleven before the last game was over and Ada  quickly cleared the table and made ready the usual “cup of tea” which always included Ada’s home made bread with butter and jam and molasses buns.  They had just begun eating when  a rumbling followed by a great crash sent everyone scrambling outside. The other residents of Strickland Bright were also outside shouting to each other in the darkness. Children were heard whimpering and being comforted by their equally stunned parents. Soon a half dozen lanterns lit up the short, narrow road that led through the community and loud shouts could be heard from the men now gathered where Fred and Ethel’s house lay shattered beneath a pile of rubble. The melting snow of the past winter followed by the drenching rains had loosened the earth at the top of the hill sending tons of debris and large boulders crashing into the house. Anyone inside would have been killed instantly. Standing alone in the doorway as the others ran towards the now half buried house, Martha thinking of her insistence that Roger accompany his parents that night, murmured a soft “thank you”.