April 2nd 1991, Javier Nunez and Pablo Pinto were playing a friendly game of football on the outskirts of the town Angeles, where they lived, in the Philippines. All of a sudden hordes of tribesmen came running towards them. ‘What is all that about’ said Javier to Pablo, ‘why on earth is everyone running from the mountain?’ Pablo pointed to the sky with a look of horror on his face ‘LOOK!’ he shouted. As they both looked up into the clear blue sky a large cloud of grey smoke was beginning to rise from the summit of Mount Pinatubo.
Javier and Pablo had rushed home as fast as their legs could carry them and burst through the doors of Pablo’s grandfather’s house. ‘Grandfather Mount Pinatubo has started to release grey clouds and ash into the sky. It’s going to erupt, it’s going to erupt, what shall we do?’ Pablo’s grandfather continued to swing in his old wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room by the hot coal fire.
‘I don’t know what you’re worrying about. That old mountain is sleeping, nothing has woke it up for the last 600 years and it’s certainly not going to be woken up today!’ Pablo’s grandfather said with confidence. ‘But look!’ Pablo and Javier shouted together pointing to Pinatubo through the old wooden window. Pablo’s grandfather rose slowly out of his chair, took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes ‘I can’t believe it, you’re right, what’s happening?’.
‘Hurry’ cried Javier’s mother while ordering him to pack up his belongings ready for the evacuation. ‘We need to gather up as much as we can because if the volcano erupts our house could be destroyed, go and help your father load the truck up outside’. Javier’s family was lucky; his father had a good job on a large farm near Pinatubo and was able to borrow the farm’s truck to help them move to the temporary shelters in Manila. Pablo lived next door and was not so lucky but Javier convinced his father to help Pablo’s family too. Javier and Pablo were unhappy because they had to leave a lot of their possessions behind as there was no room in the truck. ‘Why do we have to leave’ Pablo moaned, ‘I like it here and I bet that the volcano’s not going to blow anyway because it’s been puffing out gas for two months now’. Javier agreed but over 20,000 people who lived within 6 miles of the volcano had to relocate to temporary shelters. At least they would be able to take some of their belongings with them unlike most of the people in their town when the time comes for them to leave their homes.
Alarms started sounding at the Volcano Institute in Manila. Recording equipment revealed that Pinatubo had released a massive amount of gas and fumes from its summit. Measurements of ash were off the scale. Professor Brooklyn panicked. A massive eruption was now predicted to happen within 24 hours.
3 days passed and Pinatubo was releasing more and more gas and ash. June 10th, Clark Air Force Base was ordered to evacuate. The threat from the volcano was now real. 14,000 Americans were to leave for a Navy base 14 miles away. Brad and Charlotte now realised the danger they were actually in. ‘I can’t believe this is happening, what are all the people going to do when they lose their homes? Where are they going to live? How will they survive?’ Brad worried. ‘I wish there was something we could do to stop the volcano but nothing can stop a natural hazard. At least most people have been evacuated and sent to a place where they will be safe’ Charlotte replied. They packed up their belongings and started their journey to the Navy base.
June 12th, the wait is over. At 8.51 am Pinatubo blows ash 12 miles into the sky. The blast lit up the sky with red hot lava spurting from the crater of the volcano. For miles around hot ash piled up on the fields, cars and buildings. Animals were killed in the fields and people buried in their homes as roofs collapsed under the weight of the ash. There was panic in Angeles. Javier and Pablo’s families were one of the last to leave their homes. Javier’s father knew it was time to leave when the volcano began to project lava down its flanks. They fled with their belongings and livestock over roads made slippery by the falling ash. People wore cardboard boxes with air and peepholes to protect themselves from the ash. The ash was so thick in the air at noon; Javier’s father had to drive with headlights on and wipers operating rapidly to clear the debris. There was panic everywhere, children were crying, people were grabbing whatever possessions they could. Javier’s father found it hard to control the truck and kept swerving side to side to avoid large pieces of rock that showered down from the sky. Pablo and Javier were scared; they had never been so scared before in their entire lives. They wished they had left for the shelters a long time ago now as they didn’t realise how dangerous a volcanic eruption was. Buildings were collapsing with the weight of the hot ash and rocks that were flying in the air from the volcano. Javier’s father was following the stream of trucks and people trying to get away from the death and destruction of Pinatubo.
The eruptions continued for 2 days, 80,000 people had now left their homes and had to relocate to temporary shelters. Professor Kelly Brooklyn at the Volcano Institute had not seen an eruption of this size for half a century. Weather predictions showed that a typhoon was heading for the Philippines which made the situation even worse.
June 15th, the finale begins. 2am the largest ash cloud so far projected from Pinatubo, streams down the volcano. The typhoon mixes with the ash cloud and makes rain like wet concrete. The mixture makes 10am look like midnight. It is pitch black, the only light is from car headlights. Monitoring stations are knocked out, everything is destroyed. By midnight the eruption is over.
Javier and Pablo awake. Their nightmare was real. The families returned to their village the following month. Their home was destroyed; everything in their village was ruined. Mudflows had swept through the village and washed their house away. All they had left was the few belongings they had in the truck. Everyone knew of someone that was killed during the eruption. Even though they were now homeless, they were the lucky ones. They were alive.
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