It is hard to believe that 3 years have passed since the devastating tsunami which hit so many Asian countries- with loss of life and infrastructure smashed.
This "story" from the Sunday Age is a tribute not only to the family involved but how countries affected by the tsunami have had to cope and rebuild shattered lives and property.
"The Boxing Day tsunami didn't rear up on Unawatuna, on Sri Lanka's south coast, as tsunamis do in movies. Rather, it arrived like a fast-running and ever-rising tide, sweeping all before it, accompanied by a roar that muffled the cries of the luckless and the alarmed.
Quickly, it swamped the grounds of the Sea View Hotel to a depth of four or five metres. Cars overturned, buildings collapsed and terrified villagers clambered up coconut trees. Melbourne pediatrician Sian Hughes was readying herself for a day's excursion with her family when she heard her husband, journalist Tony Heselev, shout. Expecting to find another procession celebrating poya, the full moon, she saw instead the ocean surging over the sea wall 50 metres away.
Instinctively, the couple and their three children scrambled to the second floor of their holiday apartment. Desperately, they hoisted Rosie, then 10, through a skylight onto the roof and were pushing Matilda, then six, onto the same perch when the wave stopped, then began to rush back out to sea. In 10 minutes, it was over. Their balcony was crowded with fellow holiday makers from all over the world, some hurt, all bewildered. Their bedroom below was trashed. The hotel grounds looked something like a sandcastle does after a wave washes over it. Still, no one could comprehend what had happened or its scale."
This "story" from the Sunday Age is a tribute not only to the family involved but how countries affected by the tsunami have had to cope and rebuild shattered lives and property.
"The Boxing Day tsunami didn't rear up on Unawatuna, on Sri Lanka's south coast, as tsunamis do in movies. Rather, it arrived like a fast-running and ever-rising tide, sweeping all before it, accompanied by a roar that muffled the cries of the luckless and the alarmed.
Quickly, it swamped the grounds of the Sea View Hotel to a depth of four or five metres. Cars overturned, buildings collapsed and terrified villagers clambered up coconut trees. Melbourne pediatrician Sian Hughes was readying herself for a day's excursion with her family when she heard her husband, journalist Tony Heselev, shout. Expecting to find another procession celebrating poya, the full moon, she saw instead the ocean surging over the sea wall 50 metres away.
Instinctively, the couple and their three children scrambled to the second floor of their holiday apartment. Desperately, they hoisted Rosie, then 10, through a skylight onto the roof and were pushing Matilda, then six, onto the same perch when the wave stopped, then began to rush back out to sea. In 10 minutes, it was over. Their balcony was crowded with fellow holiday makers from all over the world, some hurt, all bewildered. Their bedroom below was trashed. The hotel grounds looked something like a sandcastle does after a wave washes over it. Still, no one could comprehend what had happened or its scale."
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