The worry in Alaska as the endless aftershocks rattle the locals



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Seven weeks after the earthquake that shook Alaska, the aftershocks still shake the sense of security of Connor Cartwright, 7 years old.

They shake the Earth much less than the magnitude 7 earthquake that caused the collapse of a mirror, television and dishes. On the ground, in the Anchorage house where Connor lives with his mother, his father and his eleven-year-old brother.

But seemingly endless aftershocks accentuate anxiety related to the earthquake that reigns in the second year of birth and many other residents of Alaska. of the state shaken by the earthquake of November 30.

When Connor fears serious aftershocks, Connor fears that his house will collapse.

"I have the impression that the house will not hold," he said.

Many of the aftershocks are so small that people do not notice them, like a recent one that Connor did not feel at school – but his teacher forced all the students to dive under their desk to be safe.

The last great aftershock that happened happened last Sunday – a magnitude 5.0 quake that already had frayed nerves and caused panic messages on social media.

This one "once again recalls that all is not finished," said seismologist Natalia Rupert at the Alaska earthquake center.

There have been more than 7,800 aftershocks since the main earthquake 7 11 km north of Anchorage, the most populous city in the state. Most were too small to feel, but 20 had a magnitude of 4.5 or higher. Rupert expects earthquakes to continue for months, but their frequency has decreased from about 200 a day to about twenty a day.

While waiting for the seismic action to stop canceling, Laura Dykes announced that her next trip to Las Vegas was going to be a huge relief from the stress she's undergoing now. The Anchorage law firm's collaborator still has fond memories of her office in the basement of a building swaying during the November earthquake. It was built on rollers to protect it from seismic events.

"I can not get out of here fast enough," said Dykes. "It will be five days that I can sleep."

Roads damaged by the earthquake and some homes were heavily damaged. Initial estimates were to repair the damage and other costs to about $ 100 million.

Anchorage and other areas escaped the type of widespread catastrophic damage caused by a devastating 1964 earthquake due to strict building codes implemented after the magnitude 9.2 earthquake, which was second most powerful earthquake recorded on the planet.

There were no deaths or serious injuries after the earthquake seven weeks ago, but federal officials quickly declared a public health emergency and mental health assistance was put in place. the disposition of people traumatized by the event. School counselors were inundated and crisis counselors were brought from Oregon to assist in several schools in the Anchorage area. Therapists and other professionals have struggled to meet the demand of a nervous public.

Mental health providers report that the influx of new patients has slowed down, but they still treat clients shaken by aftershocks, who strike without warning or apparent trend.

"It's overwhelming for people and they feel emotionally out of control," said Deborah Gonzales, an accredited clinical social worker in Anchorage.

Gonzales said that people told him that they could not stand the shaking and felt safe anywhere. Some plan to leave their state while others feel "crazy" – feelings that Gonzales describes as "100% normal".

For Connor, every noticeable upheaval triggers a sense of vulnerability, said her mother, Tamra Cartwright, adding that many of her friends' children are also battling quake-related fears

Tamra Cartwright said that Her husband was at work when the main earthquake took place, but she and her sons ran out of the house and kissed while they were huddling together outside. In addition to broken family items, the only damage done to their home was a crack in an untied wall that was widened. But Connor could not sleep in bed for weeks and barely came back.

Her mother says that she "totally hates" the aftershocks, but tries to "stay strong for my kids".

Robert Alaskan all his life Bell was 12 years old in the 1964 earthquake and remembers it as a rolling action, while the recent earthquake was more of a go-and-go movement – who seemed more violent, even though he was not so powerful. The recent earthquake and its aftershocks have been as relentlessly reviving this youthful experience, Bell said.

Bell, who has worked in construction for years, built his own house and says it is safe and solid. But his heart races when the aftershocks sound.

"You do not know when the next one will hit – it's been disconcerting," he said.

They are also troubling for Ethel Sechlera. But the Anchorage supermarket cashier sees them as a way for the soil to let out seismic pressures.

"I would prefer that little replicas do not make themselves felt," she said.

The aftershocks are part of daily life in the most seismically active region of the United States

"I suppose I am a case apart because it does not really bother me," he said. Isaiah Sagayo. "I'm just going on."

Follow Rachel D 'Oro at the address https://twitter.com/rdoro

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