In May 1999, for a graduation present (and possibly a "sorry we dragged you to Utah and ruined your junior and senior years" gift), my parents took me and my childhood friend, Lesli, to Hawaii. It was awesome. We rode out-riggers and ate pineapple and went to the Polynesian Cultural Center and the Temple and killed cockroaches and Lesli and I talked about boys while we sun-tanned.
On Saturday, May 8, we decided to do a simple day-hike to Sacred Falls. We were supposed to do it on Sunday afternoon, but at the last minute, we changed our plans because we got invited to dinner by some friends. It was a great hike. So beautiful. We took our time, splashed around a bit, and back at the trailhead, I even bought a t-shirt. I was a good tourist. :)
The next day was May 9, 1999, which was Mother's Day. We were visiting some friends of ours that we had known in Oregon, and on their television came Breaking News.
There had been a major rockslide at Sacred Falls, and it had killed 8 people and injured 50. "A portion of the mountainside sheared off and rained boulders and rocks on visitors hiking and sunbathing." We had missed it by mere HOURS. We couldn't believe it. So scary and tragic. If you think about the geological time it took those rocks to loosen and crash down, we missed it by nanoseconds. It was probably a process that was years in the making.
It happened early afternoon. On Sunday. When WE were originally supposed to be there....
The park has been closed ever since.
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