“There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven.”
Luke 21:11
“There are many things that fall from the sky and affect the Earth. Heavy rains, hailstorms, lightning, megacryometeorites, meteors and asteroids, just to name a few.”
Chad Myers was lecturing astronomy graduate students who were touring Goddard Space Flight Center. He was a specialist in the study of NEOs, Near-Earth Objects.
“NEOs are out there everywhere,” he told the students, “But most people have no clue. NEOs are comets or asteroids that orbit the sun and also cross, or nearly cross, Earth’s orbit. Presently there are approximately 3,000 NEOs that have been discovered. These objects pose a danger of collision with the Earth, a danger, though rare, that could possibly eliminate most of the population of our planet. It has happened before.
“Most scientists believe an asteroid collided with Earth about 65 million years ago. That collision occurred just northwest of Cancun and resulted in the elimination of the dinosaurs. It is estimated that this asteroid was only six miles wide.
“A Near-Earth Object is defined by the federal government’s Spaceguard Program as any object that has a diameter of at least one kilometer, a little more than a half mile, and comes within 1.3 astronomical units of planet Earth, AU for short. One AU is the distance from the Earth to the Sun, about 93 million miles.
“In other words, we monitor any NEO that is within 120 million miles of Earth with a potential to cross Earth’s orbit.”
Chad didn’t tell the students of the most recent discovery a few weeks earlier. The information had not yet been released. He found the newest information troubling to say the least. The new data indicated a possible collision with the Earth within eight months, maybe sooner.
“At present, there are more than 3,000 near-Earth objects that are being monitored. There are more than 10,000 of these objects larger than half a mile in diameter, suggesting that we have so far detected only a small percentage of their total population.”
“Dr. Myers?”
“Yes Debra.”
Chad liked Debra Gracie. He met her on the tour last year, and they had coffee after the conference. Debra was a third-year grad student. Chad guessed he was about thirty years too old for her, but he could wish. Unfortunately though, she was dating the ex-star quarterback at University of Maryland, so what would she see in a nerd like him?
“Dr. Myers, you mentioned a megacryometeorite or something like that. Can you explain what that is?”
“You bet. Thanks for the question, Debra. “Megacryometeorites were first discovered in January, 2000, by Jesus Martinez-Frias of Spain, after large chunks of ice started falling from a perfectly clear, blue sky. Though some of the ice clusters vaguely resembled hailstones, they were much too large, most weighing seven pounds or so; and the sky, as I mentioned, was clear. No storms were involved. Dr. Martinez- Frias began his research after the unknown objects rained down on Spain for ten consecutive days, always from a clear sky.
“Since then, more than a hundred incidents have occurred around the world, with most of the ice balls weighing 25-30 pounds each, some much larger. And I am sure these were not the first.
“Now, can you imagine seeing large, thirty pound chunks of ice falling from a sunny, clear sky?
“You may not know this, but in the Book of Revelation, I assume all of you recognize the name, John wrote that in the last days there would be hailstorms raining down 100 pound hailstones. Until megacryometeorites were discovered, most scientists thought this to be mythology. Not anymore.
“The largest to date weighed in at 490 pounds; and yes, you heard that right. It was a sunny day in Brazil when this particular megacryometeorite smashed into and totaled a brand new, red Mustang convertible. Eyewitnesses first reported hearing a loud whooshing sound just before it hit. In some instances, they have been confused for meteorites because of the size of the craters they can leave.”
The students were surprised at this information, a slight din rising from the auditorium. They had never heard of such a thing. Most people hadn’t, he knew.
“Dr. Myers, I just read about a hailstorm in North Carolina that had cantaloupe sized stones. Could these be the same thing?”
That Debra is one cutie-pie, he thought.
“Nope, those were unusually large; but they were conventional hailstones.” He continued.
“Before we break, let me mention the Tunguska Event. June 30, 1908, a suspected meteoroid, or meteorite, they are the same, exploded high over the Tunguska River in Russia and flattened hundreds of square miles of forest. It was thought to be equivalent to a fifteen-megaton nuclear blast, a thousand times larger than the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima during World War II.
“Though the Tunguska region was not populated, at least not with people, eyewitnesses reported seeing a tremendous fireball streaking across the sky, followed by an explosion and a hot wind that knocked people to the ground a hundred miles away. The explosion left no crater, at least none that has been found to date.”
“What’s the chance of this happening again, like in the United States?” Chad did not recognize the student but noted that he looked a little older, maybe wiser, than the other kids?
“And your name, sir?”
“Johnny Poe.”
“Mr. Poe, anything is possible, especially when it comes to NEOs. There may have been a similar, but much, much smaller event, last week in Kansas. Do you remember the news about Westborough Church?”
Johnny’s smile faded instantly, then asked, “Is that the church whose members go to military funerals and shout that God loves dead soldiers, or something like that?”
“That’s correct. When soldiers are killed in Iraq, Afghanistan, wherever, the members go to the funerals and shout that God hates ‘fags’ and that’s why he killed the soldiers; because the United States promotes homosexuality. They’re really nutty.”
“So what happened to Westborough, something bad I hope.”
“Well Johnny my man, your wish has been fulfilled. They were having a church meeting last Wednesday night, planning their next hate-mission, when suddenly an explosion rocked the church; and Westborough Church is no more, at least the building.
“Eyewitnesses said a small meteorite, they called it a falling star and it might as well have been, exploded about two hundred feet directly above the church. The church and congregants disappeared in a flash, but the surrounding structures were undamaged.
“Some of the members that weren’t in attendance tried to spin it as though the members were raptured, but then the bodies were found several blocks away in all directions. DNA confirmed they did not have a heavenly experience. I’m assuming you know what raptured means?”
“Not really.” Several students spoke simultaneously.
“Well, we won’t be going into that here. I don’t want to venture into the church and state separation thing. It is a part of Christian theology though. You can read about it in 1 Corinthians 15:51. I’ll see everybody after lunch.”
As the students were leaving the large auditorium, Chad called Johnny Poe over to the podium.
“So how did you know about the Westborough Church? Just curious. Most college students don’t keep up with that sort of thing.”
“I’m a veteran, two tours in Iraq. A close Army buddy and I, Scott Johnson, were at a funeral for a friend of ours who was killed in Afghanistan. He was a hero if there ever was one, threw himself onto a live grenade to save his men. He didn’t even hesitate.
“Those Westborough clowns showed up at his funeral, and Scott and I ended up getting arrested.”
“Really? What happened?”
“They were yelling that God was glad our buddy was dead, because the U.S. loved faggots; and we decided those folks needed a good ass-whippin’; so we proceeded to teach them some proper etiquette. I’m glad I didn’t kill anyone, but I wanted to. Looks like God took care of them for us.”
Chad took an instant liking to the young man, noting that Mr. Poe looked like a soldier, polished and fit. He invited Johnny to have lunch at the Goddard Garden Café. There they saw Ms. Debra Gracie; and Chad’s heart was pitter-pattering as he asked her to join them for lunch, and she accepted.
After lunch, Chad was on cloud nine, learning that Debra had dumped the star quarterback. Of course he knew he was probably as old as Debra’s father, but he could dream, couldn’t he?
Returning to the NEO lab, he checked the latest data concerning the mystery object headed Earth’s way and then called Jeff at his home in Duluth. There was no answer, and the recording said that Jeff was at the American Legion Post. Chad left a message that he, The Admiral and Sheryl Lasseter were flying into Atlanta the following week and wanted to go golfing at Sugarloaf.
Jeff drove to the American Legion Post 251 in Duluth where he planned to drop off a $ 10,000 check for a new air conditioning system. Jeff entered the basement door that led into the bar area.
Three weeks earlier, Jeff made his very first visit to the Post. Actually it was his first visit to any American Legion Post. While visiting he couldn’t help but notice the heat, a result of undersized air conditioning, not good with the extreme heat that seemed to be affecting every country in the world. Reading the bartender’s nametag, Jeff asked CJ why it was so hot inside.
“AC’s broke man. Supposed to have two units, but only one works. What’ll you have?”
Jeff asked for a house merlot, knowing that Duckhorn probably wouldn’t be available. CJ complied, and Jeff wondered if CJ had been a SEAL or in Special Forces. He just had that look, young and vigorous.
“So why haven’t the Feds taken care of that for you?”
“You must be kidding.” CJ rolled his eyes. “We don’t get any money from the Feds, never have. And this Administration is not pro-military, even though they fake it. We all know that.”
Jeff scanned the bar area, noting that everything was crammed into a very tight space, maybe a thousand square feet, pool table, gaming machines, buffet and seating area.
“So how are you funded?”
“We’re non-profit and are funded through memberships and contributions. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. What service were you in?” CJ wiped down the counter and served a Bud Light to the gentleman at the end of the bar.
“I haven’t been here before. I was in the Navy, many years ago, last century.” They laughed.
Jeff had driven by the American Legion Post many times but never stopped. It was hard to miss with the Army tank out front, apparently a relic from one of the World Wars.
“A Navy man, like Jimmy Carter?” The statement came from the man drinking Bud Light.
“A Navy man, yes but not like President Carter. I think he was on submarines.”
Jeff didn’t think much of President Carter’s reign. He believed, like so many other ex-military men and women, that the Islamic terrorism of today was a direct result of President Carter’s actions, or inactions would be the better word, during Iran’s revolution.
“That man’s a darn scoundrel if there ever was one. If it wasn’t for that man and how he handled Iran in 1979, there wouldn’t be Muslim bombers blowing up half the world today. He’s a pompous ass who loves the camera. Give me another beer.”
“A lot of people like him, I guess. He’s done a lot to help the homeless.” Jeff found himself defending Carter for the first time he could remember, but he knew the Bud Light man was absolutely correct. Jimmy had blown it in 1979, and we were paying the price for it today.
“How many soldiers you think we done lost ‘cause of that wimp? He sat around on his doggone thumbs and let Khomeini overthrow the Shah. Remember that? The Shah was our biggest ally in the whole region, after Israel that is.”
Jeff knew what the man was talking about. The Shah of Iran, Reza Pahlavi, had been an ally; and Carter hung him out to dry, thought the Shah was corrupt. Jeff knew the Shah was corrupt, because every government in the Middle East was corrupt. He also knew that the corrupt Shah was a lot better than the corrupt Khomeini, especially when it concerned U.S. interests. But that was then and this is now. Nothing could be done about Carter’s unfortunate decisions.
“Plus he hates the Jews. You know that? Loves the Palestinians and hates the Jews. You know why?” Larry Joe, the Budlight Man, was on a roll, his light gray hair almost glowing from the ceiling light above his head.
“No, but I bet you’re gonna tell us, aren’t you Larry Joe?” CJ knew when Larry Joe got wound up, the conversation would be interesting.
“You bet your bippy. He hates the Jews ‘cause he used to be a preacher. Now don’t get me wrong, I love preachers; but some preachers still blame the Jews for killing Jesus.”
“I thought the Romans killed Jesus,” Jeff replied.
“Yeah, the Romans killed Jesus; but they only did it to pacify the Jews who were calling for his head and threatening riots. It’s kinda like the Romans were the paid assassins. But you know what? The old Jewish prophets from long before Jesus’ time had predicted that the Jews would kill the Messiah when he came, so it had to happen. If it hadn’t happened just like the prophets said, well, then the Bible would be a lie; and it ain’t no lie, I can tell you that.”
The conversation continued through another merlot. Jeff shook hands with CJ, thanked Larry Joe for the interesting and lively discussion, and exited into a dark, moonless, hot night.
Jeff went home that evening and immediately emailed his new state congressman, who he knew personally. He sent the same email to the President, asking why the federal government could fund the arts and pay for abortions in third world countries; but Uncle Sam could not fund the nation’s largest veteran’s service organization, couldn’t even pay to fix the air conditioning, for Pete’s sake.
“How can we, the citizens of the United States, manage to fund artists that can’t make it on their own merit; how can we fund abortions with our tax dollars but not fund the American Legion? American Legion members and the other military men and women have sacrificed, sometimes their very lives, to make it possible for our legislatures to pass such idiotic laws as these. How about a little money to get some new air conditioning?” He hit send, and the email was on the way.
In less than an hour, Congressman Woodell responded to Jeff’s email, agreeing whole-heartedly. Jeff never received a response from the President, other than the courtesy-response anyone would get.
Today was his second visit to Post 251, and Jeff planned on taking care of the air conditioning problem. The thought crossed his mind to build them a whole new building, maybe buy a used M1 Abrams tank to replace the relic out front.
When he entered the bar, a small lunch crowd was leaving. He spotted Emmet with 1st Mechanical Air Conditioning, a long-time friend. They had planned to meet.
“Hey pool shark. Winning any money?”
“Yeah, I’m playing myself, and I keep losing. I only lost about $ 10 so far.” Emmet shook Jeff’s hand. “That’s better than I did on the golf course the other day. I didn’t get any birdies, but I got two geese and a red fox!” Emmet guffawed like he always did when he said something funny.
Jeff gave Emmet the $ 10,000.00 check, the amount that Emmet said would be needed to replace the HVAC, and asked him not to mention Jeff’s name. He wanted to remain anonymous. A noise from the floor above interrupted the conversation.
Jeff and Emmet heard the ruckus upstairs. They looked over at CJ who was coming from behind the bar and heading toward the stairs to the first floor to see what was going on. That was when they heard automatic weapons fire, the easily recognizable sound of a Russian AK-47, the rifle of choice for the Islamic Jihadists.