High up at 10,000 feet I listened to Pat Metheny’s “Last train home” as the plane descended into San Francisco on Oct 17, 1989. I squeezed my nose against the window to watch San Francisco approaching from below. There it was: The Golden Gate Bridge that I had admired in so many photos. Finally, I had arrived in America, the land of Christopher Columbus, Sir Francis Drake, Coca Cola, chewing gum, and the the rock and roll music of Elvis Presley and the Beach Boys. I didn’t come to just tour around but to actually live there, something I had dreamed about ever since my high school days in Germany. My excitement mounted as the plane touched down, and I took my first step on California soil to start a postdoctoral training fellowship away from my familiar world of marine biology and into an unfamiliar universe of magnets and biophysics at UCDavis.
My faculty mentor Tom, a Chinese American scientist, had offered to pick me up from San Francisco airport. I declined. Since the travel was paid for by the German Research Foundation I decided it was more convenient to take a connecting flight to Sacramento. I spent two hours both excited and sleepy at SFO.
The plane departed SFO at 4 pm and touched down in Sacramento around 5 pm. As I stepped down on the tarmac, I felt the ground swaying underneath me. I thought the long flight had made my legs wobbly and just hoped I was not going to faint right in front of my new “boss”. He said something about the ground trembling, when my plane landed.
When I arrived at my host’s home, I noticed that she had the TV on and seemed quite shaken. A devastating earthquake had struck San Francisco less than an hour ago. Images of devastated buildings and collapsed freeways flashed on the screen. I could not believe it: I still had the vivid impression of San Francisco looking so beautiful and serene from above!
Tom must have been completely shocked and worried about his family in San Francisco. But he did not let on and just suggested that we take a look at the lab, where he made “a quick phone call”. I later learned that he had not been able to reach anyone in the City from his office. He still took me out to a restaurant for dinner and started a lively conversation to keep me awake. He never mentioned anything about his family. When I finally got back to my host’s apartment, I collapsed immediately into a deep and happy sleep that night, while Tom was desperately trying to get through to someone in the City. In the early morning hours, he found out that his family was ok.
The next morning, when I got to my new lab I became an instant celebrity: The earthquake had been all over the news in Europe and a stack of faxes and phone messages from Germany had arrived for me during the night. My parents, relatives, even the German consulate tried to find out, if I had suffered. It had not even crossed my mind to call anyone!
Did the earthquake frighten me away from California? Not at all. Who would have thought that I am still in California 20 years later and can commemorate the day of the big earthquake and my arrival to the United States? I will spend the day in San Francisco which is still my favorite city after all these years.

That year, I was one of 40 Masters students in Cal's Structural Engineering program. We'd all just finished our Steel Design midterm. After the earthquake ALL of the Bay Area became our "field" of investigation. Immediately after, for three days, I volunteered in the Marina, re-evaluating the buildings red-tagged by city engineers. I still remember the residents of one 4-story apartment pleading with me to let them in because they'd been blocked entry. When I determined that the "structural damage" that had been previously identified was not part of the structure itself, but part of an adjacent garage, and the residents were able to enter their homes again, the relief and appreciation was overwhelming. After those first few days of immediate concern, we all turned to more long-term investigations: some of us working on the Cyprus structure, loading it up to failure to study the ways in which single-degree-of freedom concrete structures behave under dynamic load conditions -- a rare opportunity. Some of us actually walked the cables of the Bay Bridge, checking every connection. A little known consequence of this was the severe damage to the anchor bolts on the approach to the oakland side of the bridge. I walked down almost every unreinforced masonry building that was "suspect" in San Francisco and the East Bay. This was a really important time for a generation of engineers which truly surpassed any lab-simulated conditions we could have created. We learned a lot in those months after Loma Prieta.
One more thing it availed was a small window in public awareness and interest. Immediately after a big earthquake is the time to remind people that design codes are POLITICAL documents, arrived at in negotiation between economic, political, commercial, residential, and public safety concerns. They are not simply engineering documents to be adhered to. As such, they are always compromises. Usually, engineering claims are diminished because big earthquakes have been so few and far between in California, so that public memory can't sustain them in the foreground. Events such as Loma Prieta give us the opportunity to remind everyone of the potential of such forces, that we need to take them seriously, and, in fact, inevitable.

I was standing in my kitchen, very pregnant, while in labor with my daughter. I told my husband I thought we were having an earthquake and he said "No, Dear, that's just a contraction..." As the rumbling got worse he said "Wow, THAT is an earthquake!" As we stood in the door way, I had a brief flash that the house would fall down and I wouldn't get to have my baby after all. We survived and a short while later my wonderful baby daughter was born. She is magical and that day changed our lives forever. Happy 20th birthday!

I was temping up on the third floor of a building near Divisadero and Fell. When the earthquake started, it was no big thing, then it just kept going and got bigger. I thought, "we're going to die." The file cabinet drawers rolled open and the pyramid of empty soda cans that were piled on top of a metal cabinet were flying all over as people were screaming. Then it was over. We were all okay. When I left for home I saw some brave guys out at Fell Street directing traffic.

A guy I knew who worked in a graphic design office later told me that they were in the habit flicking their dull exacto knife blades into their cork ceiling. When the earthquake hit, they ran thru a rain of old blades.

I had just arrived home from vacation. My Mom was talking to a friend on the phone, and my Dad was in the bathroom. All of the pictures in the hall started moving, and my Mom told her friend that she thought it was an earthquake, so she hung up. My Dad said he was watching the toilet bowl water shake. My parents home is on the west side of Twin Peaks, and their only loss was an inexpensive taper candle. We could have walked to the top of Twin Peaks, but we did as we were told on the radio and stayed home. Our neighbors came over because my parents have a gas stove. When I went back to work, I heard about co-workers whose homes had collapsed, near misses as one person had just crossed the Bay Bridge on her way to Oakland, etc. This person thought that she had a flat tire, so she pulled off at the Oakland Army Base. Otherwise, she would have been on the Cypress Structure. I fell very fortunate to have had such a mild experience.

October 17, 1989 was one day after my first wedding anniversary. I worked at an architecture firm and was just about to send a fax when the quake struck. Every piece of equipment in the print room - fax machine (remember those?), copier, diazo printer - made popping sounds as the power went out, and the exposed ducts bounced merrily in their straps. For an instant I thought "this is it" . The young intern in our office screamed; that snapped me back. My husband was at the World Series, and I was frightened for everyone at the ballpark. Fortunately I had a portable radio and was able to find out fairly quickly that the park was relatively intact.

As an architect, the thing that strikes me most is how quickly people forget. We can design new buildings to be relatively safe, and reinforce some existing buildings in the same manner, but that can't prevent quakes from happening, with all the content damage and emotional distress that accompany them. I had earthquake insurance even when I was a renter - I know it's expensive - and we keep our disaster supplies in order.

I was three years old, in preschool in Santa Cruz. I was in the bathroom when the building was evacuated and I was left behind. I made my way out on my own. My mother, who was a schoolteacher had just arrived to pick me up. I ran into her arms. She stayed to calm the other children down, handing out rice cakes and being very sweet and reassuring to the other children. In the days after we slept in our car, and there was nowhere to get gas. My mother says there were potholes in the streets big enough to swallow a car. The most exciting part for me as a three year old was the local grocery store losing power and handing out their entire ice cream supply to the kids in the neighborhood! For me it wasn't frightening, it was an adventure. I think the earthquake may be one of my first memories!

It was Mr. Rogers that was on at the time.

I was two, and distinctly remember seeing him rotate as the TV fell on its side. Then my mother picked me up and ran out of the house.

-Adriana

I was rehearsing flamenco at a dance studio in the Mission. When my rehearsal partner and I began doing footwork, the whole building began to shake. Wow! we said, "que fuerza!" referring to our footwork. We soon realized that it was an earthquake and ran to the safety of a doorway.

My wife and I were about 10 rows under the first deck about 10 seats from the aisle at Candlestick. She had never been to a world series game. We had just toasted with a cocktail we had snuck in when a rumble started. We thought that it was the people on the second deck stomping their feet impatience for the start of the game. The we saw a jet on departure and thought that it was a very loud jet. When I saw the pipes under the deck above swaying I knew what was happening. I had purchased a cheap transistor radio to listen to the game and turned it on for the first time. "What a piece of junk" I said as I started tuning up from the bottom of the band, not hearing anything. Someone haqd a TV a few rows up and said "The Bay Bridge has collapsed!" "No way it wasn't THAT bad!!! PLAY BALL!!!"

I also had a police scanner with me and when I listend to the channel in use at the park and when I turned it on, about the first thing I heard was "Go around and tell them the game is canceled, but don't let them know you're scared.'"

We had taken the bus from Burlingame and finally found our way back to the bus. On the way out we were pelted with rocks and bottles. We got back to our car and ended up going all around the south end of the bay to get back to Oakland because we kept hearing conflicting reports on the status San Mateo and Dumbarton Bridges. We finally got home about 1 AM.

I spent the next week working in Santa Cruz for PG&E and on my way home, I talked to a CHP officer who told me the San Mateo should have been closed but they were afraid of the impact to traffic.

Don

Don

Michael,

I was on the phone with a fellow student going over homework and she was from Iowa and never felt and earthquake before. She said frantically, "There is an earthquake!" I said, "Don't worry, it happens all the time" then suddenly I felt it and it kept on shaking so I told her to hang up the phone and get out of her house. She screamed that the water in the swimming pool was splashing all over.

Minutes later I knew it was bad when the tv went to static and none of the stations were working. At the end of that term, my friend was still suffering from post traumatic stress and eventually moved back to Iowa.

The irony is that I moved to southern California about a year and a half later for school there and was there to experience the Northridge earthquake as well. My friends tell me they don't want to live close to me.

Son Dao
Milpitas

I was living in Nebraska a friend of mine was in SF. My friend must have looked confused when the quake hit. An elderly woman walked up to her, patted her on her forearm and said reassuringly if a bit patronizingly "this is an earthquake dear".

I was in the Ambulatory Building at UCSF teaching a prenatal class. I too was 9 months pregnant, led the 4 pregnant women under the table until the 1st quake stopped. Luckily we waited for the after shock to stop, then as the manager I had to evacuate the floor before leaving myself down the stairwell. I had to drive out of the city to Belmont where my husband and 2 year old daughter were waiting on the driveway. No cells, no way to let him know I was OK...I arrived having contractions 5 minutes apart..we borrow a friend's working phone to call my OB, who said do not try to get to hospital, the roads were a mess...so she instructed me to lay on my side and drink 2 shots of whiskey. The contractions stopped for that night, but my beautiful son Jace arrived 3 days later...he'll always be our earthquake baby!!!

I was 12 years old living on the second story of a victorian duplex, in the Noe Valley. The game was just about to start, the battle of the bay logo just came on the screen, I was sitting in a green armchair doing my homework, when the tremor started. I ignored it for a couple of seconds, I had experienced many tremors that year. Until it started to get stronger, the TV turned off and then I knew that this was no tremor, this was the real thing. The house began to rock from side to side, I could here the wooden studs cracking as the wood folded further than it had ever before. As the rocking gained momentum, I was trying to get to the table just a couple of feet away from me, but every step I took forward was futile because the house would push me back to my previous step. I made it under the table when it stopped. We had a view of the bay bridge, and they kept saying that the bridge had fallen, and I would look out the window and seeing that it was still there. I'll never forget how close my family was that day, no electricity, it was the first time I had seen a shooting star and so many stars in the sky. The duplex never quite revovered, I recall a couple of months later a wind storm really made that house sway from side to side. I wonder how this structure will hold up during the next one.
-Sparrow Curiel from Vallejo and born and raised in SF

I had a different sort of experience. When the quake hit, I was in an airplane approaching Seattle on a business trip. My plane landed, I got my luggage, stood around waiting for the bus into the city, checked into my hotel, went to my room and unpacked, came down and got dinner suggestions from the front desk and walked to a restaurant maybe 1/2 mile away. Amazingly, during all of those activities, I didn't hear a word about the earthquake. I had a very nice, calm dinner and while I was awaiting my dessert, THOUGHT I heard someone on the far side of the room say something about the World Series and an earthquake, but was sure I was imagining it. When the waitress came with the dessert, I asked her if I could possibly have actually heard that. Then from her, I got the exaggerated report of collapsed bridges, buildings, many deaths, etc. Wondering whether I should panic or not, decided to (as calmly as possible) eat my dessert and THEN literally run back to the hotel. Miraculously, I got through to my family on the first ring. Everything was OK in Danville, but my kids, who were 4 and 5 at the time, had been roller-skating in our family room and had been knocked down. I'm sure they remember that experience.

After living in a Glen Park apartment for over 13 years, I'd just bought a house and moved to Benicia. The morning of the earthquake, my German Shepherd Dog awakened me at 4am, very upset and very determined to show me something. We walked outside and over to a field for a few minutes, she kept looking for something. Not fully understanding what was troubling her, I went to work in Emeryville at the Cetus Corp labs and told everyone that I was leaving early because the dog had been upset and I thought that there was something at the new house that was bothering her.

I left work before 3pm to check on her -- a normally calm dog, she was very excited to see me. we were in the kitchen when the earthquake struck -- although strong, it was a rolling motion that felt less threatening that the 5.5 that struck in july when we were still in the SF apartment. so it wasn't until the images on the TV that I understood how bad it had been.

immediately after the quake, the dog's behavior returned to her normal and very calm demeanor. and she never displayed anything similar to that morning.

I was a UCLA exchange student living in Madrid at the time of the quake. The newspaper headlines read: "San Francisco Destroyed!"

My brother was a CAL student at the time and often used the section of freeway that collapsed. It was hard to get in phone contact in Madrid and we didn't have cell phones. I wasn't really sure if my brother was ok, if the City was in ashes and how my parents were. My grandmother was born in 1907 in Oakland after the family home in San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. She always quoted here mother who said "The ash came down like rain." I just hoped that was not the case with this quake. A few years later I was in the Northridge Earthquake and wow, that was incredible.

Hi, I had just moved to San Francisco's Mission District. I was rehearsing with a vocalist. I still remember the tune and the transposition. It was "The Way You Look Tonight" transposed to A maj.
As we began the tune everything began to shake. First gently, then it changed gears and got much more intense. Outside lamp posts swayed like palm trees in a hurricane.
Later on I enjoyed a drink around the corner at a candle-lit bar called Dr Bombay's on 16th Street sharing scary tales with my new neighbors.
John

Hi, Michael,

I was working at 731 Market Street for a small publishing company. When the earthquake hit, I braced myself in a doorway with one eye on the exposed brick wall behind me and the other on the front of the office, where I could see dust rising from the street. Later, I walked home through North Beach, which still seemed to have a party atmosphere. Walking up Union Street, I could see the fires in the Marina.

I volunteered at the Marina Middle School, and worked in the kitchen area, preparing all of the donated food. We were making crab cocktails! I remember walking home late after one shift. . .right down the middle of a darkened, carless, but moonlit Union Street. I found myself sharing the street with 3 or 4 big raccoons leisurely making their way to my left!

Hard to believe it's been 20 years.

On Lake Merced at time of Earthquake

When the Loma Prieta Earthquake hit I was a Sophomore in High School and on Lake Merced for my rowing team's daily practice. I remember sitting on the lake in our the boat with eight of my teammates and what I assume was the moment the earthquake hit, millions of bubbles surfaced. None of us knew what happened and actually continued rowing as part of our practice! We had no idea there was a devastating earthquake until we got back to the boathouse and to all of our parents anxiously awaiting our return. I vividly remember that day and night, but I am probably one of very few people who were in San Francisco at the time of the Loma Prieta Earthquake yet never felt a thing!

I can't believe it's been 20 years, it really does feel like yesterday.

I love your show, thanks so much!
Allie

I was in Petaluma on the Boulevard washing my car when I noticed the wheels rolling back and forth. I looked up and noticed the whole car washing stall was swaying, and the boulevard was rolling like a wave. I ran out from under the structure and went to the cashier, told them we were having an earthquake. Just then a police car pulled up and turned the gas pumps off at the emergency switch, then we all just stood there and looked at each other. I got back in my car and drove 30 miles to my fiance's parents house on the coast, listening to the radio.

I will always remember an article that I read about the earthquake and affected lives that still brings tears to my eyes:

A new mother had extended her parent leave by one week because she just couldn't bare to leave her newborn child yet. At that fateful morning, she grabbed her child to flee her Marina home. In her hallway, she fell and on all four, she placed her baby beneath her as her home came crashing down. In that moment, she was sure she had the strength to hold up the whole building with her back to save her child -- regardless of what happened to her. And that was the last thing she remembered before she passed out. When she was awoken by rescurers, her child was found under her dead. For me, this has always been a story about the emotional power of maternal love.

For days afterward in Oakland &Berkeley it was ok for me to turn to a fellow transit rider &ask 'where were you on Tuesday?' Each time I asked, I got an excited, detailed answer, an unforgettable memory of getting to talk to such forthcoming strangers.

The sound of the Cypress falling was very loud as I crouched under the desktop of my module in a 3-story bldg. in Oakland 3 blocks away.

I was working downtown in the Financial district when it hit. I also remember our dependence on old-fashion radio to get our news, since there was no electrical power for TVs. I now wonder what will happen when our next catastrophe happens. Both TV and the Internet will be out of order. Long live radio!

I was a senior at UC Santa Cruz. I was in class. The class met twice a week and let out at 6:00. UCSC was built in the late 60’s. It was a low rise campus. It was a safe place to be during a strong earthquake. I was in social history in industrial America. We were discussing patterns of migration following immigration when the earthquake struck.
Earthquakes are nothing new. I was born and grew up in NorCal. I felt earthquakes before. Earlier in the year we had a 5.1 rumble through the south bay. Normally earthquakes were startling but fun.
This one was different. Many of my classmates were from out of state. When the building started to shake they were startled. It was strong, but nothing unusual. The second wave of shaking (seconds after the quake started) was very strong. I was startled. I dove under my desk. The strong shaking intensified. Some in the room started screaming and crying. I was trying to picture where I was going to land when the building failed (I had a class in the in classroom below that very quarter). The shaking was unlike anything I felt before. The shaking continued, but it became less violent. Finally the shaking stopped.
The professor was unsure how to react. She thought normal was the best and wanted to continue the class. Some students left. The rest of us agreed to continue outside. (There was an open grass courtyard outside the classroom buildings. It was an unseasonably warm day so being outside at 5:10 wasn’t bad.) The first aftershock struck about 15 minutes after the initial earthquake. From the lawn we could see the windows of the classrooms bow in and out. Class dismissed.
My car was parked in the East Remote lot about half a mile downhill from my class room. The path down the hill is lined with Redwoods. I reached Stevenson College and saw windows broken out. I heard the emergency broadcast signal booming from radios inside dorm rooms. This was not a test. I heard the new science building was badly damaged. I heard the bay bridge collapsed. The East Remote parking lot is below the East Field. Once on the field there are open views all the way to Monterey. You can see the town of Santa Cruz and the entire bay. There were smoke plumes emerging from all the cities and towns rimming the bay.
I was living in San Jose. I decided to get home before authorities closed the roads. I drove into Santa Cruz. The smell of natural gas was thick. I turned around and headed back up the hill, back on campus.
I tried my home phone, but the circuits were busy. I called my fiancé’s mother, in Cupertino. She answered the phone and said the house was in shambles. She couldn’t find my future father-in-law. She put the phone down. The panicked students waiting for the phone fidgeted behind me. Finally she came back. He wasn’t there. That was good. I told her I was safe and please call my mother. Another aftershock struck and the hillside in front of me bowed toward me. I hung up and ran.
I waited on campus for several hours. I got an update that Highway 9 was open. I decided to go.
The drive home took nearly 2 hours. There were few cars on the road. I drove slowly. I had to clear 1 small tree, but that was it. I passed skyline blvd without knowing it. Normally, on a clear, fall night, the lights from the valley are brilliant. On Oct 17, 1989 it was dark.
I reached home around 11:00.
For the next week I worked with friends to throw out broken objects. At one house we pulled the fallen chimney out of the broken pool. We all pulled together. For a few weeks there was no them. There was us. Our world shook but it didn’t break. We feared thousands could be dead. We grieved for the few who actually did die. We grieved and were relieved together.

at 5:04pm on October 17, 1989…
I left work a little early (please don’t tell my boss) so that I could get home to watch the World Series. As I opened the door of my Oakland condominium, I was surprised to see my cat frozen in place on the other side. She normally would have been rubbing against my legs since I was the keeper of all things edible. I said, “What’s the matter with you?” and she then leaped into the air and took off like a shot for parts unknown.
At that point I began to feel the shaking and since I was in the doorway, I stayed right there. I heard glass break in the kitchen and thumping in the den.
When the shaking stopped I went to check for damage. A single wine glass had fallen from the stem-wear rack and shattered in the kitchen sink - an easy clean-up.
When I got to the den however, I was shocked to see most of my books deposited in nice neat rows on the den floor. Apparently, the (unbolted) bookcases had all leaned forward enough to release their shelf-loads of books and then once unburdened, returned to their upright position. One of the books was propped up on a slight angle, within it’s row. When I examined it more closely, I discovered a pencil (point embedded in the binding) extending perpendicular from the book. I deduced that the pencil that I had left on top of the book in the bookcase had managed to precede the book on the way to the floor and impaled the book binding upon it’s arrival.
The cat, by the way, was in this same room cowering under the desk. I wish she could have told me what she thought when she saw those books hitting the floor,
I made a couple of phone calls to assure some folks that I was “OK” and I was glad I did that since phone service became nearly impossible a short time after the quake. The power was out and I listened to some KGO radio coverage on my battery operated radio. I found my battery operated television shortly after that and managed to get it tuned in just about the time the most serious damage was being widely reported, Helicopter views of the Bay Bridge and Marina district appeared on the screen. Finally pictures of the Cyprus Freeway collapse were shown on the screen. This, of course, was the same freeway structure I had driven under on my way home from work.
My earthquake kit is neatly stowed, bookcases are bolted and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for the next one.


Ed Lorenz
ejlorenz@alamedanet.net

Thanks for the great show today Michael. I was working on the 32nd floor of the Shaklee Building downtown and decided to skip out early, so at 5:04 p.m. I was on the 30 Stockton Muni bus to the Marina, going home. The driver stopped the bus when the quake hit, so the passengers only experienced gentle swaying, but a huge pot fell off of a nearby building, so we figured out what was going on. When we got to the Marina, it was like being on the Universal Studios Tour--very surreal to see huge cracks in buildings, and the bus stopping at every stop, letting passengers off, as if things were normal. Most people were still at work, which was fortunate because of the buildings that collapsed. I was one of the first people to view the collapsed building on Fillmore (I had considered moving there a few months earlier), and my brain could not comprehend what my eyes were seeing. The media circus that later descended on that spot, with Peter Jennings broadcasting live in front of it, was intense. I also remember the fire department pulling water out of the bay to fight the fire. Still, the scene in the Marina was relatively calm compared to what was going on with the bridges and freeways. And I was so glad to be there as opposed to on the 32nd floor downtown, where my colleages ended up spending the night because building security said it was not safe to leave.

Loma Prieta was the first earthquake I ever experienced, and I can hardly think about or discuss that event without tears coming to my eyes. The earthquake changed my life and my perspective, which I consider a valuable gift considering I was at a difficult and transitional period in my life. I had just turned 19, and had moved myself from the east coast to Santa Cruz the year before. I always wanted to live in California, and I moved without any relationship ties or connections to my new hometown. I was struggling with loneliness, depression, and post-adolescent angst at how complicated life was on my own. I was not attending college yet, but working full-time at a popular flower shop one block off the Mall (Pacific Avenue) which was within walking distance from my teeny-tiny studio apartment.

The day of the earthquake I was working at the flower shop and happened to be on the phone when the building I was in jumped with the first roll of the earthquake, along with all the glass shelving inside the shop. It was like an explosion as glass shattered and the sound of the earth shifting and moving beneath my feet-- a sound I would become very familiar with over the next months—filled my ears. I screamed, and dropped the phone. I rocketed out of the front door of the shop. I heard that one was supposed to stand in the safety of a doorway during a quake, but there was no way I was doing that. I am a former gymnast and I remember stretching my legs beneath the skirt I was wearing, leaping and bounding across the sidewalk to the parking lot across the street to put as much distance as possible between me and the building that I was in. I was certain it was about to collapse. Once I cleared the street my next concern was to stay away from power poles that may be falling over. Also, I was alert to the ground just opening up and swallowing me whole. While I was working on keeping myself alive and unharmed, I was also taking in visuals that were making no sense to me. Like, the brick building that housed Ford's Department Store was rolling and shaking as if it were made of jell-o. It collapsed in front of my eyes. The large picture window for the Spokesman bike shop next door to the flower shop also seemed to be made of liquid. The parking meter next to me was shaking and vibrating so hard I thought it may pop out of the cement of the sidewalk.

Of course, all of this happened in the course of 15 seconds. You never really know how long a second is until you go through those seconds thinking you are about to die. Or, if not die, get really, really hurt. When the quake stopped, my initial reaction was to start screaming and running around in a circle. Thankfully, the people on the street around me remained utterly calm, which made me calm. I didn’t start screaming, but locked up the flower shop and walked to the corner of Pacific Avenue with my co-worker. I couldn’t see beyond a half block, there was so much dust in the air from collapsed and damaged buildings. The sight of people digging through the collapsed Ford's store for humans buried in the rubble directly to my left was one of the grimmest sights I have ever witnessed, and made me instantly realize I had no business walking around, that I needed to go home immediately. That is, if I had a home anymore.

My home was intact, as was the rest of my life, especially compared to those who lost their loved ones. There are many other things I will never forget about the aftermath of the earthquake, but what had the most impact on me was a complete shift in my perspective about life, how the only thing that truly matters is having your family and your friends, alive and safe. The community of Santa Cruz truly bonded in the days after the quake, and I experienced the love and concern of my friends and neighbors in a way that I never had before. It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life, and I was snapped out of my previous self-absorbed depression and felt completely nurtured by the people of Santa Cruz. Probably the hardest thing for me about the Loma Prieta quake was the disappointment and feeling of loss as my community gradually went back to normal with the passing weeks and months. I know now that what I experienced is very common whenever there is a natural disaster or community crisis, that people truly do pull together and help each other, and I am so glad that I had my chance to experience that for myself. I would not trade my experience with the Loma Prieta earthquake for anything in the world.

I was at home, working on a quilt, waiting for Game 3 of the World Series to
begin. My bedside table and lamp jiggled, so I moved the quilting frame a few inches away from the table, thinking the frame bumped the table. The table jiggled again, and then I noticed items moving on top of a bookcase across the room. I saw the screen on my TV go 'snowy', and I heard Al Michaels say "I think we're having an earthquake. I'm not sure we're still on the air, and at this point, I don't think I care!"

I got away from the windows, but don't recall doing the 'duck, cover and hold'.

My family's house in Portola Valley didn't sustain any serious damage, but we lost power for a few hours, and a couple of bricks fell out of our hearth. (Later, I quilt-stitched the statistics of the 'quake into the quilt.)

The quake itself seemed mild in our part of Oakland. Riding my bike the few blocks home from work someone told the the Bay Bridge had collapsed. As soon as I got home I called my brother in Seattle and said we were OK. Our daughter, age 16, was in Germany. She didn't speak German--and didn't know that much of the fire footage she saw on German TV was repetition rather than the whole city burning. She tried to call us, and was told the lines were closed due to the quake. Very frightened now, she did remember our earthquake plan--our outside contact was her uncle in Seattle. She called him and burst into tears of relief when she learned we were OK. Lesson: Family earthquake preparation is important.

I was flying home from Hawaii to San Francisco when the quake hit. Of course the crew didn’t tell us anything until just before we were due to land. I had purchased a headset to listen to the World Series and was angry that I had to use them to watch Star Trek 5, The Final Frontier – again, the crew told us something was wrong with the transmission from Candlestick.

It was right at the moment when William Shatner, with his near omnipotent powers of reasoning, questioned god: “If you’re god, why do you need a star ship.” The screen went blank, the cabin lights came on, and a stewardesses stood at the front of each ails, looking terrified. I thought to myself, “heavens, we’re going in for a crash landing and the last thing I’ve seen is Star Trek 5, the worse movie ever made.” There was almost a sigh of relieve when the pilot announced there had been an earthquake. There were some gasps, obviously many were concerned for their homes, friends and family; but I was 24 and lived in California all my life; an earthquake was a way of life. The flight crew then distributed free headsets to all the passengers so they could listen to KQED, to learn more details.

It wasn’t until we were on the ground, in Sacramento, that I learned the quake was estimated to be 19 miles north of Santa Cruz – just miles from my parent’s house. My surprise let escape a single utterance of profanity. Suddenly, it seems like nobody would meet the gaze of my eyes. The earthquake had literally, “hit home.” I was alone, a few hundred miles from home, and no idea how I was going to get back.

None of the car rental agencies would rent cars one-way into the Bay Area so I was stuck all night. Nobody knew what roads were open and which were closed even if I had gotten a car: the TV news stations seemed to report conflicting lists and it was clear that if I were on the road I would be lead around in a series of detours that would make my evening even more agonizing. Like many others, I slept in the airport, waiting for morning.

Flights on some of the local carriers, affiliated with the airline I was traveling on, were going into San Francisco airport the next morning. But the planes were so small it was going to take all day for a spot. I learned car rentals were letting one-way trips in to the Bay Area again. I had met a girl trying to get to Santa Cruz too, to visit her boyfriend at UCSC, so we split the cost and drove to Millbrae to get my car – parked at my grandmother’s house. My grandmother gave me an a-ok gesture when I showed up the 17-year old coed – she did look older than that, and I wasn’t alone in that opinion since I first overheard her say she was trying to get to Santa Cruz in the airport bar. We made it all the way to Santa Cruz: me to my parents, my companion – to her boyfriend’s house – without any major issues.

My parents had only lost a few windows and plates so my stress drained away pretty quickly. In the comfort of my parent’s home, I began to relax before another anxiety hit me: had this been my fault?

A week before I left Hawaii, my dad and I had raced to the Hilo-side of the Big Island to catch a glimpse of a big lava flow. We missed it, but saw lots of other things, like the museum in Volcano National Park. My dad was telling me about one exhibit that I had missed: letters from visitors, returning lava rocks, to appease the goddess Pele. The legend was that Pele was angry at anyone that took the rocks from the island and would curse them. Of course, I considered this just a myth and packed some souvenir rocks to take home. Now all during my four weeks there, everyone was talking about the volcano’s activity and sighting old women and little white dogs – the forms Pele takes when around mortals. The night before I left, I was leaning against my dad’s truck at a gas station. He was inside, paying, when a little white dog came trotting down the road. It stopped and starred right at me. I asked myself if it was okay to take the rocks home; the dog turned, looked over its shoulder at me, lifted its leg and peed. Under normal circumstances, I would have considered this a bad omen; but I had been drinking all evening – it was my dad’s girlfriend’s birthday – and decided I was just trying to spook myself.

I was watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles go to commercial (and sitting far too close to the TV) when the TV shut off and started rocking back and forth. Being 6, I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but my dad told me to quickly get under a table. We later calmed down sharing a coke, and wondered what happened.

The power was obviously out, but we had a small TV that would take power from our car's cigarette lighter. We then spent a little time watching the obviously somewhat poor-quality newscasts and learning about all the damage that had happened elsewhere in the city.

Attention 5:04
Asphalt rolled by hasty workmen cannot smooth
Rutted road down which I race inside my brain.
They dream of beer and day's soon end I dream of
Where I'm soon to be

I didn't feel a thing

These bumps once fueled Andretti dreams between
mounds and graveled ditch I slashed through jolts,
Wheel held and felt.
I dreamed of smooth detours
to to other roads, I switched and turned, backtracked and
Curved returning to the shortest line from where
I was to where I was to be

I didn't feel a thing

Cracked sidewalk slabs forced up by patient
Maple roots cannot erase the lust for level
Ground, our hope for smooth veneers.
Atop the slabs pipes strewn about in
Disarray, left by workmen whose ordered dreams of
Beginnings and Ends waited for another day

I didn't feel a thing

My husband and I were at work in Mountain View when the quake hit, and I should already have been on 101 headed home to be with our "latchkey" child. As it was rolling under us, our 11-year-old son called from our home in Santa Clara. The quake was already over there, and he was checking to see that we were ok. After we talked, and all on his own, he found a battery-operated radio and went into the back yard. When KCBS resumed broadcasting, he listened to each and every word of advice. He slipped into the house and followed the instructions, then ran back out to wait for more instructions and for me to arrive. It took over an hour to drive a route that usually took 10 minutes. When I finally got home, I was both amazed and proud that he had used such common sense and had kept calm. We opened cans for dinner and heated them in the backyard over the backpacking stove. Although we slept in our beds, we were very restless and fearful because of all the aftershocks.

I was 12 years old. I came home from school with a migraine and had heated up some pasta and turned on the tv. Though I am an As fan, my headache had distracted me from the World Series and so I remember the credits for a rerun of Silver Spoons had just played when the entire house shook.

We didn't live in your standard house though. We lived in a converted warehouse in Emeryville. With a wall of windows, and 35 foot ceilings, the entire place shaking was quite a feat. My younger brother was upstairs in the loft and came running down. We crouched in the bathroom door, the only door in the house except for the front door to the apartment. As the whole place shook our cat freaked out, the dog spun in circles, tail wagging and excited for what was going on. Our shampoo rolled by our feet, having fallen out of the shower, and then the shaking stopped.

My dad generally drove home on either 580 or 880, depending on the traffic. We didn't know where he was. We ran to a neighbor's house and then we all moved down to the parking lot across the street. There many people were sharing the food that they had, or the food from a local restaurant that was giving it away. Radios were playing from the car and all of the neighbors in the building became our instant guardians. I was so scared because we heard that there was a paint spill and the combination of fumes and any gas leak could cause an explosion so we went to our moms house.

At 5 am the following day, my brother and mother and I all asleep in her bed, were awoken by every light and the TV coming back to life as the power was restored.

No one was ever really able to paint over the cracks in the walls of the warehouse.

I'm at home in Menlo Park listening to the game. Suddenly the earth shakes and stuff starts falling down around the house... bookcases start banging against the walls... and the power goes out. No more baseball game, I guess! I realize immediately what's going on, I grab the phone -- there's a dial tone !!!! -- I dial my girlfriend's office number (no cell phones in those days). She's working as an attorney at 101 California St in San Francisco, and I'm rather eager to make sure she's OK! But it seems so odd to me -- the receptionist answers the phone as if nothing has happened, very calm, very matter-of-fact. In a loud and impatient voice I ask to speak to my girlfriend. Again that calm even-tempered voice! The receptionist says, evenly, "Just a moment, I'll see if she's available." As you can imagine I'm absolutely astonished at her demeanor! Then, a few seconds pass, and over the phone I hear a scream... and a crash... and the line goes dead! It slowly dawns on me what's going on... My phone call must have raced ahead of the earthquake, at the speed of electricity -- and while I'm waiting for my girlfriend to pick up her office phone, the earthquake hits San Francisco! Now I'm afraid, especially remembering those last sounds... of a scream and a crash. I have visions of her office building toppling into the Bay. I run out into the street in Menlo Park, everyone is wandering around, one of the neighbors has a transistor radio and we're all listening for news of damage to the City. There are no reports of anything serious in the downtown area, so I'm holding out hope that my girlfriend is OK. It turns out later that the electricity's gone out immediately in her office building, disabling the elevators, and so everyone is stuck in the building. The main office phone system is down too. But -- they discover a few hours later that the fax machine is still working, and they're able to make outgoing calls on the fax line. So, a couple of hours pass. My girlfriend calls me at home and says, pretty as you please, "Hi, honey I got a message that you called earlier today. What's up? Did you want me to bring you home some dinner?" :-)))))

The flight from San Diego the night before was wrenching and emotional as I knew I may have just said goodbye to my mother for the last time. She was loosing her battle with cancer and I had spent the last week with her as we talked and held hands remembering these moments.

Working in Oakland and living in San Francisco I left work early in time to watch the World Series at home with my roommate. My commute home found me on the first span just past the metering lights on the Oakland Bay Bridge at exactly 5:04.

The traffic was light and fast with only a few other cars around me when suddenly my car lurched over to the right an entire lane, coming to halt making me think I had 4 flat tires. Suddenly I noticed that the other cars around me had slid over one lane and come to a rest beside me. As if my adrenaline wasn’t coursing through my viens enough I felt the car...no it was the bridge bucking in long wrenching strokes like a train who’s cars bump and shuttle compelled to be waken from their state of rest.

Silently we all got out of our cars just before the Yuerba Buena Island Tunnel on the upper deck. As I walked over to the left side of the bridge I knew it was a big earth quake and as I reached the guard rail and leaned over to look at the bottom deck I saw the upper deck only 40 feet from my car fall onto the roadway below. Huge chunks of concrete falling down into the water. It was only seconds later that I understood what I was looking at. Unbelievably I thought those were boxes or cargo falling into the water. In those moments I somehow failed to grasp that it was the upper deck that had loosened and fell. The fact that what was happening did not enter my mind as a possibility.

Holding onto guard rail I felt as much as hear the bridge groan and lurch once more as the steel telegraphed its agony in long painful chocking moans. I had a crystal clear vision of the bridge coming apart like a strand of beads unraveling their perfect order falling one section at a time into the water. I wondered what it would be like to fall into the water like those chunks of concrete as all of us went down with the bridge.

It was clearly time to turn around and get off this bridge. By this time the traffic has stopped behind us preventing our retreat. We had a choice abandon our cars or wait it out on the now still bridge. A man yelled from the back of the traffic to stay in our cars as they turn the cars around and off the bridge. Not wanting to be left without a car in the aftermath of this large earthquake we turned on the radio and listened to what the rest of the bay area was going through. With smoke beginning to build over the marina and smaller fires by the Berekely campenile I prayed that the best part of human nature would once again reveal itself. Driving off the upper decking heading to Oakland is a strange feeling,

Seeing the achorage underwater through liquifaction with only a few feet of the inside of the road hanging on I drove through the axel deep water then left under the bridge and back onto the east bound lane of 880. As I started to gain speed I noticed a 2 foot disparity between the ramp up to the 880 and the road I was on. I turned around and decided to keep the 880 in site and follow on the frontage road. I decided to head to a friend in Alameda and wait for things to settle. As I drove close to the 880 as I could I saw lots of people on the side of the road looking up at the freeway. I noticed a teal Tunderbird tenderly approach a ramp hanging precariously down at an odd angle from the upper deck of the 880 like a cruel and tempting way to get off the freeways. I pulled over as I watched the car loose traction tumble and roll off the ramp landing on its roof on the road below. It was only at this point I noticed the smoke and people in this incredibly small space between the two layers of the 880. The freeway had pancaked. I am not proud to say this but I began to cry for us all. The enormity of this was so much bigger that the bridge.

Later that evening I finally got a hold of my family only to learn that my mom had passed away at 5:06 that day.

Monique

I had just come home from work with a new 27" TV and was in the process of hooking up the cable when my wife told me that my daughter had to do a school asignment ,to watch TV for a half hour with the sound off.Not a big thing,but the game was just a moment away.Now you have to take my word for this but my wife and I never fight. We may argue about stuff once in a while but never it never gets heavy.Not this time though. In no time we were both amped up way beyond anything we had ever experinced in the 5 years we had been together and not the 20 years since.I can not explain this other than to think there is something to reports of dogs acting odd just before a quake.

At 5:04 PM I was in the Cabrillo College upper parking lot. I had just had my teeth cleaned at the School of Dental Hygeine (I was a starving student in those days). I was driving my old 1972 dodge colt, and it could be tricky to start, involving lots of carburetor spray and a pencil propped to hold the throttle open while I cranked it. I had tried a few times to start the car, and had gotten out to attend once more to the carburetor, when I felt the shaking and saw the light poles in the parking lot swaying back and forth. I backed away from the car and SAT DOWN-- I could see the ripples in the ground running down the hillside. (This location is about 4 miles from the epicenter in Nicene Marks park).

Once the shaking stopped, I got back up, shaking myself now, and noticed the car was miraculously running. Some childhood thunderstorm safety instinct kicked in to my shocked brain, and told me I would be safest IN THE CAR (something to do with the rubber tires. . . ). I drove home towards downtown on Soquel drive, noting with shock the broken store windows and car alarms going off. At some point I must have gotten on the freeway, because I vividly remember passing under the Fishhook at the Ocean street exit and watching the cars one by one navigating what looked like a large step down in the pavement.

I arrived home to my little place on Bixby Street, to find my terrified mom. I was working with horses at that time of my life, and she was sure I had been crushed in a stall by a panicked horse. We both entered my apartment to investigate. Everything in the refrigerator and on the kitchen shelves was on the floor, and neither of my cats were present. After a few minutes, Fiona came out from under the house, and I found Elspeth in a closed kitchen cupboard. Good smart kitties!!!

On Bixby, I remember two or three houses were completely off their foundations, and the crosswalks at the end of the street were offset some two or three feet, and there were huge fissures opened up in the San Lorenzo River levees where I would walk every morning.

I was unemployed at the time, and the earthquake felt like the rest of the world was coming in to line with my own life. For the next few days my neighbor and landlord and I camped out in the back yard, shared batteries and aftershock anxieties. Some weeks later I applied for a job at the Santa Cruz SPCA, who had lost employees after the earthquake, and was dealing with all the abandoned and stray pets, and I stayed with that job for almost five years.