Earthquake Stories

SAN FRANCISCO--As the 100th anniversary of the Great Earthquake and Fire of 1906 approaches, I reminisce about earthquakes I once knew. I grew up in L.A., so I've been in earthquakes but never too close to the epicenter.

One time an earthquake hit while I was driving--I was on the freeway driving to school, and I was sleepy like I always was during college, sleep-deprived. The (Whittier) earthquake hit, and the steering wheel jerked back and forth in my hands. I thought I had a flat tire. I got off at my off-ramp and I noticed someone else pulled off to the side checking his tires. But the car seemed fine. Then I was waiting at a stoplight, and an aftershock hit. The car started shaking. "There is really something wrong with my car!" I thought. Then it was back to normal. I get to school, go to class, and the teacher's late. "Maybe it's because of the earthquake," the other students say. "Earthquake? What earthquake?" I ask.

Another time, when I was housesitting for a friend in Santa Barbara, I had a first date with a guy, watched a video or something, and he was from Boston, so I asked him if he'd ever experienced an earthquake. "As a matter of fact," he said, "I was at a party, a first date with my last girlfriend, so we used to joke that the earth moved when we met." The next day, early in the morning, there's an earthquake (the Northridge one) that knocks out all the power in the city. I call him up: "Do you always have this effect on women?"