It was a cool, breezeless morning in the greenhill isles of Ithaca, Zante and Cephalonia, off the western shores of Greece. Villagers and vacationers from the mainland slept or stirred, or busied themselves quietly about their homes. It was 5:30 a.m. Forty seconds later, the isles lay beneath a yellow shroud of brickdust in the wake of a major earthquake.
A woman tried to get her invalid sister out of a crumbling house; she knelt to pray, could not lift her sister again, and had to leave her behind. A young couple ran...
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