The roar of Navy Growler jets is our constant accompaniment nowadays in Port Townsend – working, walking, gardening, tutoring children, meditating; eating meals, trying to sleep.
Last summer …
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The roar of Navy Growler jets is our constant accompaniment nowadays in Port Townsend – working, walking, gardening, tutoring children, meditating; eating meals, trying to sleep.
Last summer near Sequim, a neighbor, attempting to cross Highway 101, waited over 10 minutes for a long convoy of military vehicles to pass, heading west. What is going on, and where?
At Hurricane Ridge Visitor Center, a person was handcuffed by a National Park officer for passing out leaflets that asked those concerned about Navy use of our park for warfare training to contact politicians.
An earth-shaking explosion blasts Lake Quinault. Wild birds, geese, ducks fly up as one from the lake. People rush outside, imagining a huge propane tank blowing. The source? A supersonic boom produced by a Navy jet. Navy states two per month are planned, but the frequency will be increasing to two supersonic booms per day – at a height much lower than present.
12:30 a.m., Jan. 21, 2016. Brilliant white light floods our curtained Port Townsend bedroom. An earsplitting roar has us flying out of bed from a deep sleep, racing to the window. Nothing but white light and deafening noise everywhere. Just above house roofs an enormous military helicopter is passing over our neighborhood. Shaking with shock, I call 911. Within minutes, a police officer phones. He has no idea who is flying so low or why – local police are not informed about military maneuvers. They can only help “clean up” after an accident or a disaster. They have no control over conditions that might lead to one.
It’s time for our politicians to get involved and save the peninsula. It’s up to us to tell them.
ALEA WATERS
Port Townsend