You have trepidation and dread looking in at the things you cherish and trying to will them back." When he finally did get up the nerve to visit, he says, the sight of the place gave him a ghostly chill - "like you're Indiana Jones exploring his own tomb. He knew the space all too well, having co-curated its exhibits, and had felt heartsick every time he tried to wrap his mind around what it would look like empty. It does not store any personal data.It was weeks before Doug Naselroad could bring himself to set foot inside the Museum of the Mountain Dulcimer in Hindman, Ky. The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance". This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary". The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional". The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics". These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously. Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. Doug Naselroad, Director of Troublesome Creek Stringed Instrument Co. And as the morning light came fully on, so did the realization that there would likely be much worse damage out there in the county I knew in reason that if things were that bad in downtown Hindman, that the situation would far more serious for folks up and down the creek. The Appalachian School of Luthiery, the Appalachian Artisan Center studios, the Museum of the Mountain Dulcimer, and the Troublesome Creek Stringed Instrument Company were all destroyed. I removed the log jamming open the luthiery door, hoping to keep anything else from floating off as the water level came down.īut the damage was done. A dulcimer and a cased guitar raced away in the receding flood waters I just barely managed to run over and retrieve them. Indoor furniture.Īt first light, I waded out to survey the damage. A white box trailer floats down past on its side, chased by garbage cans and lots of furniture. A deafening roar rises up from Main Street. Things are now smashing into the building, shattering windows and doors. Raising the window again, I focused that dim little flashlight on the parking lot of Jones Insurance just in time to watch my car going under. Maybe Paul was down there, come to check on things? If only! What I was hearing was the sound of large objects floating around in the studio. Within the hour, however, an odd, repetitive clunking emanated from downstairs in the school. For a few minutes, I attempted to go back to sleep. No surprise there, and flash flooding right in town seemed unlikely. I found a small flashlight and several inches of water shooting down Main Street. Within just a few moments, the steady hum of rain had grown into a jet-engine howl and my cellphone began to alarm. Pesky sometimes.Įven at 2:00 am, when the power first dropped, and household white noises were supplanted by the steady thrumming of warm, summer rain, I looked out from my second-story apartment window over darkened Hindman and allowed that it would be a good night for sleeping. You know, that well-named creek, Troublesome. Historically, the creek would only come up so high and crest, and some of us with low-lying parking lots would have mud, at worst. To begin with, no one here really believed that such a thing could or would happen, not really.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |