Flickering light in sky across Midwest = Earthquake Light From New Madrid Fault

The last time it happened on this scale was in 1811 and 1812 when the New Madrid Fault ripped open.

BTW, we are coming up on the 200 year anniversary in December and scientists have been saying a big quake happens every 200 years on the New Madrid.

We got a month or less until the Big One hits according to the following site.
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Panther Across The Sky
Tecumseh And The New Madrid Earthquake
[link to www.ratical.com]

Saturday, November 16, 1811

Under a crisp cloudless sky, the Indians crouched. No fires had been lighted, lest this drive away or interfere with the sign. There was no moon this night, and the stars twinkled with almost tangible brightness in their deep black background. With blankets held over their heads to hold back the bite of the cold air, the Indians waited. In southern Canada, from the great falls of the Niagara to the great Lake-of-the-Woods, they watched. In western New York and Pennsylvania, they watched. In Ohio and the Indiana Territory and in the land that pushed north between the two great lakes and in the land to the west of the lakes, they watched. Along the Mississippi and Missouri, and even farther west, they watched. In the Tennessee and Alabama and Mississippi country, they watched. And the principal chief of each tribe held in his hand the final red stick of his bundle.

Just before the midpoint of the night it came -- a great searing flash from out of the southwest; incredibly bright with a weird greenish-white light, incredibly swift, incredibly awe-inspiring. And the heads of a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand Indians swiveled to watch its fiery progress across the heavens until it disappeared in the northeast. And they were deeply moved by it.

Many of the chiefs broke their sticks over their knees and threw them away and rid their fear in anger. But there were some who retired to their wegiwas or teepees or hogans, lay the red stick upon the ground before the fire, and carefully measured, marked it off with a bit of charcoal, and cut it into thirty equal lengths.

And then they waited.


Monday, December 16, 1811

At 2:30 A.M. the earth shook.

In the south of Canada, in the villages of the Iroquois, Ottawa, Chippewa and Huron, it came as a deep and terrifying rumble. Creek banks caved in and huge trees toppled in a continuous crash of snapping branches.

In all of the Great Lakes, but especially Lake Michigan and Lake Erie, the waters danced and great waves broke erratically on the shores, though there was no wind.

In the western plains, there was a fierce grinding sound and a shuddering, which jarred the bones and set teeth on edge. Earthen vessels split apart and great herds of bison staggered to their feet and stampeded in abject panic.

To the south and west, tremendous boulders broke loose on hills and cut swaths through the trees and brush to the bottoms. Rapidly running streams stopped and eddied, and some of them abruptly went dry and the fish that had lived in them flopped away their lives on the muddy or rocky beds.

To the south, whole forests fell in incredible tangles. New streams sprang up where none had been before. In the Upper Creek village of Tuckabatchee, every dwelling shuddered and shook, and then collapsed upon itself and its inhabitants.

To the south and east, palm trees lashed about like whips, and lakes emptied of their waters, while ponds appeared in huge declivities which suddenly dented the surface of the earth.

All over the land, birds were roused from their roosting places with scream of fright and flapping wings. Cattle bellowed and kicked, lost their footing, and were thrown to the ground where they rolled about, unable to regain their balance.

In Kentucky, Tennessee and the Indiana Territory, settlers were thrown from their beds, heard the timbers of their cabins wrench apart, and watched the bricks crumble into heaps of debris masked in choking clouds of dust. Bridges snapped and tumbled into rivers and creeks. Glass shattered, fences and barns collapsed and fires broke out. Along steep ravines, the cliffside slipped and filled their chasms, and the country was blanketing with a deafening roar.

In the center of all this, in that area where the Ohio River meets the Mississippi, where Tennessee, Kentucky, Arkansas, Missouri, and Illinois come together, fantastic splits appeared in the ground and huge tracts of land were swallowed up. A few miles from the Mississippi, near the Kentucky-Tennessee border, a monstrous section of ground sank as if some gigantic foot had stepped on the soft earth and mashed it down. Water gushed forth in fantastic volume and the depression became filled and turned into a large lake, to become known as Reelfoot Lake. The whole midsection of the Mississippi writhed and heaved and tremendous bluffs toppled into the muddy waters. Entire sections of land were inundated, and others that had been riverbed were left high in the air. The Mississippi itself turned and flowed backwards for a time. It swirled and eddied, hissed and gurgled, and at length, when it settled down, the face of the land had changed. New Madrid was destroyed and the tens of thousands of acres of land, including virtually all that was owned by Simon Kenton, vanished forever; that which remained was ugly and austere.

Such was the great sign of Tecumseh.

This was the earthquake which occurred where no tremor had ever been recorded before; where there was no scientific explanation for such a thing happening; where no one cold possibly have anticipated or predicted that an earthquake could happen. No one except Tecumseh.