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The Spanglish Gringo is musing on what keeps him up at night. I thought to answer that question for myself. What kept me up last night is a 4.5 (on the Richter scale) earthquake that rattled my house for about 10 seconds.
Earthquakes and Northridge tend to be common word associations that I’d rather not put together. The quake’s epicenter was about seven miles from our house. Layla slept through it, but it did knock down a few frames in her room.
I usually don’t fear earthquakes, but this particular one kept me up last night. I began to wonder what I would do if “The Big One” were to hit while we were still in Southern California? Are we safe? Can we afford to repair the damage? The more stuff I have and the bigger my family, the more pertinent these questions become.
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I’m glad to hear everyone is okay. I grew up in Sanger, in a region of California that is surrounded by earthquake zones (Bay Area and LA to the West, Mammoth to the East), but is itself rather safe. People told a common joke that when the Big One came, we would all have beach front property since everything to the West of the San Andreas Fault would fall in the ocean.
What was your experience of the Bay Area Quake in 1989? Again, we were safe in the San Joaquin Valley. Some friends said hanging lights and hanging plants swayed, but that was about it. I was on the road at the time and couldn’t feel a thing. The only thing we experienced about the quake was that the radio broadcast of the World Series cut out.
Earthquakes frighten me, though I’ll take them and their relatively rare occurrences over the annual predictability of hurricanes any day.