Explosions Of The Heart

Written by Miles Patrick Yohnke

I had experienced the black car parade at the age of five, after my father was killed in a potash mine accident, so I know death intimately.

Growing up in the 70's, before the billboards, advertising and paralegal companies that sprung up creating easy divorces (i.e. No Complications. Call Now), it was still fairly common to have two parents at home. In school, I was the only one in our class that didn't have a father.

Father's day was always awkward. The teacher would say, "Class, today we are making something for our Dads." "Oh, great," I thought, as I placed 'Ken' for my oldest brother on the item I made. Awkward, it was just plain awkward.

I know depression and hatred all too well. Having a learning disorder, I was unmercifully bullied through elementary school. Not only from the fellow students, but from the teachers as well. Les e bon temps roule, Let the Good times roll.

Like many, I have had my heart broken. Dumped. Depleted. Rejected. Various forms of physical anguish, different kinds of sad-various shades. However, I didn't know fire.

I live in what is called the cool district of our city--the Broadway district. I live on the top floor, facing southwest. It is a great view. People tell me it looks like the cover artwork of "Hotel California" by the Eagles. Indeed it is like that. On the morning of Wednesday, Aug 8th, 2012 at 2:52am, I was awakened by a very loud, ground shaking bang! Kaboom! Explosions rang out.

I ran to my living room window to see what happened. Thick dark smoke was danced ominously about. It appeared to be coming out the new high rise that was just built. The sound of a car horn blaring. I real sense of chaos was occurring before my eyes. Something far more then me.

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