In the aftermath of the Loma Prieta earthquake, the Oakland Public Library solicited personal reminiscences of the disaster from local residents. The responses are now in the collection of the Oakland History Room with some examples among items currently on exhibit in on the second floor of the Oakland Main Library as part of the commemoration of the 20th anniversary of the disaster. Because of the unique value of these contributions, several others have been chosen to post here, on the Internet, as part of that commemoration. Each of them provides a vivid portrayal of living through disaster.

The selections were made and lightly edited by Emily Foster, a volunteer in the Oakland History Room, who was nowhere near the San Andreas Fault when it ruptured on October 17, 1989.

Further recollections to add to the archive here in the Oakland History Room are always welcome. If you care to submit a recollection of your own, you can email it to ohr@oaklandlibrary or send it along by postal mail to:

The Oakland History Room
Oakland Main Library
125 14th Street
Oakland, California 94612

Better yet, you can bring it by, or just come up to read the others and see the current exhibit, curated by Emily Foster and Chelsea Kirkland, a fellow volunteer who is currently pursuing her graduate education in library and information studies.

Back To Oakland History Room Page

Authors:
Brian A. Foster
Laurie Schneider
David Kramer and Barbara Kellogg
Cynthia Anne Eagleton
Mrs. Mary Joseph
Sara Hamlen
Julia Fuller
Anonymous
Steve Reimer
Lee Horzempa
James Gold
Earl T. McMullen
Victoria Chames
Georgina Crusto
Howard Egerman
Florence L. Neilson
Ann Brinkley
Therese C. Ellis
Ethel L. Davis
Josh Kotler

1. A Personal Story by Brian A. Foster [Back To Top]

    I should have been at home during the October 17 Loma Prieta Earthquake, as I was feeling ill during the day and had intended to go home early. Instead, my chief client, the Finance Director for the City of Oakland, had called me to a last minute meeting at 4:30 PM. As it was, I usually worked across the street from City Hall, in one of the new, earthquake-safe, high-rise buildings - 505 14th Street, but I was called into the meeting on the ninth floor of City Hall - a building we all knew from previous studies was probably one of the buildings worst suited for earthquakes.

    The timing of the earthquake itself could not have been better. It was just after 5 PM, and all but a very few City employees had left by 5 PM. After all, there was a World Series game to be watched! Had there not been a World Series game, many others would have been on the roads and many more accidents would have occured.

    When City Hall began to shake, I thought of two things: 1) oh, here we go again, let's just ride this one out; and 2) it's so stupid that I would be in this building at this time. Again, City Hall had been known to fail earthquake standards for structural soundness. Beyond that, City Hall violated many building codes related to access - there was only one stairwell for the entire building, and even that one failed modern building code requirements.

    My instinctive move was toward the edge of the building... why? Because I had heard of reports that the water tank in the cupola of City Hall would probably break away during an earthquake and bore a hole through thte center of City Hall, crushing and drowning everything in its path. Given that I was high on the 9th floor, I intended to avoid such ugly desecration.

    The shaking continued... and continued. What was remarkable about this earthquake was its intensity and duration. As I was beginning to realize the severity of this earthquake, the Finance Director yelled at me to get away from the windows - made sense, since they would break. We huddled facing each other in his doorway, watching the ceiling and floor tiles pop.

    The most eerie feeling during the earthquake was the sound. Beyond the sound of items crashing and falling, one could hear thte beams in the building twisting and creaking. These sounds led me to believe that the building was certain to collapse. I was just getting ready to hug my friend and say good-bye when the shaking stopped.

    I dashed ... I ran... I don't remember much except I flew down those stairs - all nine flights (really ten). Again, thank goodness that it was after 5PM. I would estimate that there were only 50 people in the building, which helped our exit immensely. At the bottom of the stairs was the Assistant City Manager, who wanted to make sure that we were all out of the building. All I could tell him was that we were all evacuating the building, but that I was not the last one off the floor. At the very least, the Finance Director was clearing out the floor.

    Out in front of City Hall, in City Hall Plaza, a gathering of people appeared. They were all in a daze, as if waiting for someone to tell them what to do. I was not waiting to die from a building collapse and headed to my car, which was parked in a vacant lot, awaiting construction - at least my car was safe, but I wondered about my house.

    I literally ran to my car, and on the way tried to determine the best route home, to San Pable, north of Oakland. I considered two routes: 1) through the streests of Oakland, Berkeley, El Cerrito, and Richmond; or 2) via the freeway. The local streets option would probably be the safest and least congested, I thought, since I could avoid any tall buildings that had collapsed, but it would also be the slowest. The freeway would get me home faster, before the aftershocks would hit. I decided the freeway was the answer.

    I always drove down 12th Street past I-980, to the Cypress Structure and took the 14th Street on-ramp to I-880, all in order to avoid the bottleneck on the connector between I-580 and I-880. I chose this route again instinctively. I got as far as the Coca-Cola plant when things did not seem right. My window was rolled down and I was inhaling air, since my excitement level had me hyperventilating. Beyond that, something seemed strange.

    Finally, I came upon a huge concrete boulder in the middle of the road. I looked all around to determine where the boulder might have originated. Yet, all of the buildings were standing. Then it occured to me what seemed so eerie - there was no sound, even with my window rolled down. All that I could hear was one car alarm sounding off. Other than that, it was silent, I mean silent.

    The placement of the boulder would not allow me to pass, so I turned around, and proceeded down Adeline on a northerly route home. Traffic was a mess, of course, and the natural flow of traffic took me near the burning building in Berkeley. Ultimately, I was diverted up to Arlington Boulevard, which I took most of the way home.

    Once I arrived at home and checked the condition of my home, I turned on the television. By that time, we were getting sketchy news details. As soon as I saw reports of the Cypress Structure, my heart stopped. When I drove near there shortly after the earthquake, no one had yet discovered the tragedy. I did not even know that it occured - the portion of the Cypress Structure that I saw standing was the only section that did not fully collapse. Had I known of the problem, I certainly would have offered emergency help.

    The telephones were, of course, jammed, but the Finance Director got through to me later that evening and told me that I was expected to work the following day. It took him at least three or four attempts before he convinced me that he was not joking. Finally, I asked him how he got through to me on the phone, and he explained that he was at the Emergency Command Center, and that I was to be a part of the City's recovery effort.

    I must say that through the many tragedies that resulted from the earthquake, the actions, composure, and helpfulness of the citizens after the earthquake were remarkable. If there was any good that emanated from the earthquake, it is that the community drew closer - even if it was for just a little while - everyone worked for one common purpose.

2.Waiting to Fall by Laurie Schneider [Back To Top]

No sleep.          

         Everything upside down

         at any moment---------

         This one, even.

Sleep
cracks.

Awake is the safest way

         to be

         now

         and now

         and

         now.

3. [Letter] by Dave Kramer & Barbara Kellogg [Back To Top]

10/26/89

To all our friends and family: 

    First, we would like to say how much we appreciate your concern and calls about our safety in the recent Bay Area earthquake. Barbara and I are fine, and our home suffered no damage at all. Three combs fell off a shelf in the bathroom and a closed door sprung open; we didn't even suffer a power outage. Fortunately, none of our friends or fellow workers were injured, although some had damage to their homes. A number of facilities where our Unions' members work have been damaged and are closed at least temporarily (and in some cases undoubtedly permanently). 

    We thought we would share out experience on the night of 10/17/89, in part because it will make interesting reading and also out of our need to describe and record it. As you all know, we don't stay in touch with family and friends in distant places even though we care deeply about you; and we know you care deeply about us. This experience, however, surely merits an exception. 

    Barbara and I, along with a friend (Mark) were at Candlestick Park in San Francisco awaiting the start of the third game of the "Bay Bridge World Series" between the Oakland A's and the San Francisco Giants at 5:04 PM, Tuesday, October 17, 1989. The A's had won the first two games played at the Oakland Coliseum. Go A's! We had taken BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) from Oakland under the Bay to downtown San Francisco and then caught a bus to the ballpark. This took about 45 minutes, and had the advantage of avoiding the traffic created by 62,000 baseball fans and rush hour commuters. 

    Our seats were in the upper deck (third tier) of the stadium, high in the sky. When the quake struck, we first thought the stadium was "rocking" with fan enthusiasm and foot stomping. But we immediately realized that we were feeling much more than vibrations from the fans. This quake has been described as building in intensity for about 15 seconds. That's right! It sure did. We looked up to see the poles which support the stadium lights swaying and vibrating, and we knew we were experiencing an earthquake. It was very scary, but we had, at that point, no idea of the magnitude. Thousands of fellow fans were standing up, nervously talking and looking up at the lights. Barbara and I had mirror image reactions to it. Immediately my adrenaline went from "0" to the max, and then began de-escalating. Barbara's reaction was initial calm, followed by escalating anxiety (i.e., let's get out of here). Immediately after the quake, some fans cheered, gave a big round of applause and started chanting "Rock the A's." Then the public address system announced: "In the event of an emergency, people in the upper decks should proceed to the nearest exit. People in the lower stands should proceed to the field." I thought "Didn't we just have an emergency? What's an emergency?" I looked over to the section where Mark was sitting (he was about 10 sections away from us). His section was empty. I wondered why they had "panicked" and we hadn't. There was a nervous calm throughout the stands, with a steady trickle of people leaving. Ball players, media, and police were milling around on the field. In my de-escalating adrenal state, I was sitting down, relaxing my grip on my seat and wondering when the game would start.   I noticed that the stadium had lost electrical power - no lights, no scoreboard, etc. I had conflicting thoughts such as: "We're waiting for the power to be turned back on." I was also 

wondering "who's in charge here. No one wants to take responsibility for calling off the World Series." The silence from officialdom was deafening and sapped our confidence in "those in charge." However, this silence, along with the fact that there was no actual collapse of the stands, contributed to the absence of panic. 

    About the time I'm wondering when the game is going to start, Mark shows up and informs us that the bolts holding the roof sections together above where he was sitting had snapped loose and fallen into the crowd, along with small pieces of concrete. That did it. We decided to make our way down to terra firma. We walked down the stationary escalator from the third deck to join a crowd of several thousand others milling around the gates. At this point Barbara declares that she doesn't care what they're going to do, she's not going back in there. Mark shares her view, having seized a piece of debris from his section of the stands as a souvenir. I am somewhat less willing to surrender the World Series to this event. Many fans, including Mark, had radios, although very few stations were on the air. After 5 or 10 minutes of listening for news, the first reports of the severity of the damage began to be broadcast. When the announcement of the collapse of a section of the Bay Bridge came through, the flow of fans leaving increased to a mass exodus. And finally, the cancellation of the game was announced. 

    We walked around the stadium to the busses, engaging in much negative speculation about how we were going to get out of there, and how we were going to get home. With the Bay Bridge damaged, the other bridges in an unknown condition, no car anyway, and BART shut down, we thought we were stranded in San Francisco for at least the night. 

    We boarded a standing room only bus and started downtown. Since the condition of the freeways was unknown, the bus stayed on surface streets. The 5-mile trip to downtown San Francisco took nearly two hours, and featured gridlock with thousands of cars, busses and trucks, no streetlights, building lights, or, most importantly, traffic lights. The entire city of San Francisco, and much of the rest of the Bay Area, had lost all electricity. But humans are inventive creatures. From the bus, we saw a truck on the sidewalk with its headlights shining into a darkened bar so patrons could continue to drown their fears in alcohol. High on our personal list of heroes that night were the bus drivers and the police directing traffic. 

    During the ride downtown, we were hunched over people's radios and passing snippets of information about fellow passengers. The radio announced that free ferry rides to the East Bay would be leaving from the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero. There was still hope of getting home. 

    When we arrived downtown, we headed down Market Street for the ferries. This was one of the most memorable experiences of this memorable night. Market Street is a main street of San Francisco. It is wide with traffic lanes, trolley tracks, and subway stations as well as a great deal of construction in progress. It is bordered on both sides by high, modern and old ornate office buildings and it was completely dark, except for occasional dim emergency lights in a few buildings, and a near night sky above the canyon of office buildings. There were many people on the street who could be better heard than seen. Many seemed to be wandering aimlessly. The sidewalks were littered with broken glass and building facade, and were cordoned off. Every so often, we would encounter clumps of people standing clustered around radios, listening for news. One individual did pass us with a large 'boom box' on his shoulder blasting rap music. I don't know if he was oblivious, or trying to make a statement. We saw one group sipping a hopefully fine wine from stemmed glasses. There were long lines of people at all phones - the phones still worked! The subway stations (BART) were now menacing black holes in the ground. Because of the debris and the construction projects, it took care to walk in the darkness without stumbling or injury. Periodically, emergency vehicles would scream by us on the way to another crisis. 

    The scene at the Ferry Building was one of the frightening disappointments. There was a huge crowd of people gathered beneath the Embarcadero Freeway in front of the Ferry Building. This freeway is a double deck freeway just like the Cypress Structure in Oakland which collapsed, killing and injuring an as yet unknown number of people. 

    The Embarcadero Freeway has since been declared unsafe; it has damage in the same supports that failed on the Cypress Structure. The street was dark and flooded because of a broken water main and the smell of gas was like walking into a kitchen, with all the burners on, and none of them lit. There was one lone police car and officer trying to evacuate of the area due to the broken gas line. He announced that the ferries were leaving from Pier 41 (20 piers to the northwest). 

    So we began the long eerie hike down the waterfront to Pier 41. Our sustenance consisted of brandy (from a flask we had taken to the game), some peanuts, a thermos of coffee, and a flask of whiskey (it gets cold at the ball park at night, although it was unseasonably warm this night. Some people call it 'earthquake weather'). Our hike was marked by darkness, and groups of people gathered around radios. One lucky group of about 25 was gathered around a portable TV on a semi (18-wheeler). The driver had rigged it up in one of the truck's storage compartments so that it could be watched from the sidewalk. There were more long lines at phones and a periodic smell of leaking gas, which kept us smokers at bay. There were also great cavernous darkened warehouses, some of which were open. You could see dark shapes and occasionally a dim flashlight beam moving around inside. We found PG&E (Pacific Gas and Electric) trucks and crews working on gas lines. (Mega-overtime for these brave workers!) The sky over the bay glowed a faint orange to the west. The color and a long thin cloud, we speculated, were the result of the Marina District fires. There were also reports of fires in Berkeley and Emeryville, across the Bay. 

    When we got to Fisherman's Wharf (Pier 41), it was so dark and there were so few people we thought we'd made this hike in vain. However, there really were ferry boats loading people for the East Bay, and Marin County (the other end of the Golden Gate Bridge, which had reopened by this time). There were only about 75 people on our boat. We wondered where everyone was, since there must be 150,000 people from the East Bay in the city with no way home. It turned out that we were on the first boat leaving for Oakland that night. Incidentally, there is no regular ferry service between San Francisco and the East Bay; this quake may help establish permanent service. It was amazing and wonderfully civic-minded that these boats were immediately available to rescue us. We departed and headed toward the Ferry Building! The captain announced that we were going to pick up more people. Apparently they had worked out a way to let people stay there in spite of the gas. It may be my imagination, but the faint smell of gas was still present. There was a huge throng waiting to board, and many boats picking people up. While we waited for dock space, the scene was so surreal. We'll never forget it. San Francisco was almost totally dark, save for dim emergency lights, car lights, and the flashing blue, white, red, and orange lights of emergency vehicles. Overhead was the Bay Bridge way up in the sky. It was completely dark. In normal times, the bridge is brilliantly lit with headlights, tail lights, streetlights, and lights all over the structure. There were occasional emergency vehicles, with their flashing lights moving back and forth on the lower deck. There was a helicopter overhead shining a bright spotlight on the bridge structure, trolling back and forth looking for what - people, damage - who knows? In the background was a huge blood-orange 3/4 moon in the sky (presumably orange from the smoke of fires caused by the quake). Across the water, the East Bay appeared so normal. It seemed brightly lit to us, although we found out later there were many areas without electricity. 

    The ride across the bay was so peaceful, beautiful and serene. What an evening of contrasts. We shared experiences with fellow travelers along with our peanuts, brandy, and whiskey. There was no food or drink on the boat. We talked to a woman who had been trapped on the Bay Bridge, who with thousands of others, had to walk off the bridge. She told us about the many vehicles abandoned on the bridge by motorists who fled in frustration or panic after the quake. Throughout the voyage, more and more details were coming out over the radio about the Cypress freeway collapse, the Marina district fires, and sketchy news about the disaster in Santa Cruz and Watsonville. This has been all over the national news, and you are all too familiar with it. We had no idea what we were going home to. 

    When we arrived at Jack London Square in Oakland, I organized "three cheers" for the ferry company and crew. They too join the ranks of the cops and bus drivers as our personal heroes. Upon disembarking, we saw the sorry remnants of what began as a World Series  party for Oakland A’s fans. There were very few people, all the restaurants were closed, some darkened. There was a huge 18 foot square "Diamond Vision" TV screen on which the game was to be broadcast to the assembled multitudes — darkened now. There were people and buses waiting to pick ferry passengers up and there was the Salvation Army passing out coffee and sandwiches. We began walking up Broadway, past more lines at public phones. Luckily, we found a phone with no line at the  police station and called Mark's wife, Jenny, to pick us up.  Downtown Oakland revealed various scenes of damage. Most buildings were lit. A relatively new  AT&T building had many windows out and water cascading down through exterior light fixtures onto the street. There was a checkerboard of blocks with lights, and others without lights. The major downtown department store was extensively damaged and several blocks around the local 535 office were without power. We heard there was looting close by, but we didn't see anything. In fact, there was no one on the street at all. David's car was parked at the local 535 office behind an electric gate and the power was off. So we got Barbara's car from the BART station and arrived home at 11:30 PM (6 hours after the game was to start; that previously eagerly awaited event sure had disappeared from our minds). At home we found the aforementioned combs on the floor and three hungry cats.

    We feel so fortunate. I could not imagine a worse place to be than with 62,000 people on the top deck of a baseball park when a major quake strikes. Yet we made it unscathed. None of our friends suffered injury. Tragically, there were many worse places to be - on the Cypress Structure, in the Marina District, in the Santa Cruz area, in or near various collapsing buildings.

    The last three days following the immediate experience of the quake and our adventure to get home, have been characterized by strange emotions and feelings. Either or both of us have felt exhausted, spaced out, irritable, angry at responsible government agencies, a desperate need for a return to normalcy (which cannot be the same again), guilt and sadness for those so many less fortunate than we, obsession with absorbing every piece of news about this event, along with elation about our  good fortune. I know that this experience is not over yet. There is an uncertainty about the future and its effects on us, our jobs, our friends, union members, and our communities. It has surely been an experience worth sharing. I have had a desperate need to do so. So there it is.

We love you,
Barbara & Dave 

4. by Cynthia Anne Eagleton [Back To Top]

    I remember standing on the lawn at City College in San Francisco, talking with Mitzi about the future and feeling the afternoon to be strangely quiet. We commented on it and said goodbye. I drove home to Oakland over the Bay Bridge, and it didn't take long. Traffic was light. I was driving Ralph's car, a 1967 BMW that smelled of rotting upholstery and elm trees. The front windshield was huge. I drove off the Lakeshore exit and onto Lakeshore. I live on the Lake. 

    Like everybody else in a car when it hit, I thought it was a flat tire. I thought it was four flat tires and I thought 'Ralph is gonna kill me.' And then, through the huge front windshield, I san an apartment building undulating and time got longer like the time when I saw a car coming and I knew it was gonna hit me. 

    I carefully positioned the car 'between' streetlights. The building I couldn't get away from. And then it stopped. 

    I didn't know what to do and since no one told me, I drove home. 'I'm crazy' I thought, because no one was screaming. I parked and ran inside. 

    A bottle of Prego spaghetti sauce lay on the floor beneath the open refrigerator and I thanked God for a sign it was real. My books were down and trinkets broken and the cat nowhere to be seen. 

    The phone rang. "I'm okay," I said "I'm okay." But Moni was only calling 'by accident'! "I had a feeling something was wrong," she said. "A feeling!" I said, "We had an earthquake!" She lives near Eureka. 

    I grabbed my wallet because I could just imagine trying to get an ID replaced in a post-holocaust world. I didn't want to deal with that. I grabbed my jugs of water and my walkman and I went outside to stand around with my neighbors. 

    We didn't have electricity for three days. 

5. by Mrs. Mary Joseph [Back To Top]

    As an actor-performance artist, I had just completed a 6-week theatrical engagement at the Chicago Theatre Company, Chicago, Illinois. I was having jitters about coming home. After all, it isn't every day that one work on a job  20 years, writes a performance piece, and goes running off to another state. But I did...

    So, even though I was coming home with a fistful of wonderful reviews about my play about AIDS in the black community, I was filled with anxiety.  NO JOB! 

    This anxiety started around 4:30 PM in the air, on an airplane. It seems no matter what I did to distract myself, I became more and more filled with dread - wiggling around in my seat, then I started having an asthma attack, but over all this a horrible sense of doom! I kept thinking "Oh God, we're going to  crash! Oh nooo!" I turned on my headphones, but the music just made the tears come to my eyes, and I wanted to  scream "We are going to  die! We are NOT going to get home!" The elderly lady next to me asked if I was ok - I said "yes - yes -  yes!" clutching onto my seat arms, tears sliding out of my eyes. The lady rang the steward, who gave me oxygen. 

    When the pilot announced at 5:10 PM or so, "Attention, we are not able to head into Oakland for landing because of an earthquake, so we are going to fly in a holding pattern until further advice!," the stewardess said "well that's strange, just for an earthquake?" Then all my anxiety eased and I remember thinking "oh... an earthquake... hmmm..." We were rerouted to Reno, and the airport was pandemonium, people flying around the terminal trying to use phones to no avail. Some folks were looking at the news on TV in the lounge. But somehow I missed the gravity of the situation because I was so happy not to have died in the airplane crash I felt was sure to happen.

    After being settled in hotel rooms I bathed, prepared for bed, tried to call home OR Chicago OR Seattle to my son and got nowhere. I turned on the TV to watch quake coverage and the first thing I saw was the Bay Bridge, with that car slowly going over that cavernous break... Lord. I started crying low, silently, then with a squea l which sounded like it was coming from a car not me, and then I just started screaming and sobbing "oh no! oh no!" So loud the folks in the other suite knocked on the wall then called me on the phone and I stopped crying some. You see, I wasn't crying for fear about my family. For some reason the only thing I could think or feel or mourn was "oh God, it's so awful... that was a human being in that car!" 

    We stayed in Reno until October 18th and flew to Oakland in a commuter plane that sounded like we were flying in a sewing machine. When I got home my oldest daughter was safe, but she was worried about my youngest daughter, who was in the air also, coming in from Atlanta. Her plane detoured to Las Vegas. My house was topsy-turvy inside, but whole. After going to downtown Oakland and seeing the "war zone," I went home to bed for two weeks in shock.

6. by Sara Hamlen [Back To Top]
    Attached is my earthquake story. I wrote this up for my relatives back in New England. At the time of the quake I was crossing the little park downtown [ed., in San Francisco] between Fremont St. and First St., where the McDonalds and Pasta Bella are.
    I am from Boston originally and had moved here in August 1988 from Washington D.C. I work as a campaign consultant and also as a word processor.
    I'm glad you are collecting these stories.
---------------------------
Oakland, Calif.
October 19, 1989
    What an adventure we had on Tuesday! I was walking through a small plaza downtown in San Francisco after finishing work. Suddenly the ground started rumbling, throwing me off balance. It was an earthquake! This one was far more severe than the little ones that we get here routinely. In the past, I have felt little tremors, but usually you have to have the t.v. off and be still or lying in bed to feel the quake.
    But this one was a 7.0 on the Richter scale. The famous 1906 was an 8, which is 10 times larger. The shaking continued for about 15 seconds, long enough for me to think: this is an earthquake... I'm outside here all alone and things will fall on me... this is a BIG earthquake and it hasn't stopped yet... I can hear glass breaking - what should I do? "Please stop!" I found myself saying. It really felt like those Star Trek episodes where everything shakes, the floor buckles, and you struggle to keep your balance. I held on to a tree.
    Of course, by the time I realized that standing under a tree wasn't the proper thing and I should run towards the archway, the earthquake was over. I turned around to see that windows had fallen out of an old-fashioned building across the street. In a computer store on the first floor, a whole flock of suspended lamps were swaying back and forth for five minutes.
    But the fun was just beginning. In those 15 seconds we lost all electricity in thte City. That meant BART (subway) wouldn't be running under the Bay. So we all said to each other "guess we'll take the bus." There had been a small quake rather recently and BART had been delayed while they checked the track.
    The bus station was only a block away. I realized that I was badly shaken, so I wandered around a little dazed, and headed finally to the Bus Terminal. Already the people there had candles lit, but the terminal was very dark. Upstairs there was a long line of jovial people waiting for East Bay buses. "Did you feel it?" "Oh, I was in BART..." I was the last person on the bus, but when we had gone about a mile up the freeway on-ramp, we found the traffic stopped.
    Enterprising commuters jumped off the bus and asked the CalTrans personnel what was up. Then word came back that the Bay Bridge was closed because part of it had collapsed during the quake. When the bus driver talked about going down the Peninsula to San Jose and around, most of us got off and walked back to the terminal, telling the ten buses behind us that part of the bridge had collapsed.
    Many of the commuters were wearing radio headsets (because of the World Series game), and throughout the evening, you could see clusters of people gathered around these individuals. With no power anywhere in San Francisco, everyone was hungering for information.
    Luckily, I saw a Bryn Mawr friend of mine, Michelle Misner, at the bus terminal (she also lives in the East Bay near me), and we decided to find our other Bryn Mawr friend Kristen Steiner who lives in San Francisco. Since it was clear we couldn't get home that night, we decided to spend the night in the city.
    Michelle and I wandered around, finally finding a working phone near the Embarcadero shopping center. After standing in line, and trying repeatedly to get through, I reached my home number in the East Bay.
    Ironically, the East Bay was not hit very hard at all. Aside from the 10-block span of the freeway that collapsed (the upper deck crushing cars on the lower deck), we had power and water. Becky, who hadn't been working that day, was driving in the hills at the time and didn't feel anything. Only the radio going out gave her a clue. Very little was broken in either our apartment or her parents' (we are house-sitting this week for Mr. and Mrs. Ratcliff, who are in Boston). All over the Bay Area the phones were flooded with calls, and it was near impossible to get a dial tone or to get calls to go through. Of course, in the City no answering machines would pick up because there was no electricity.
    Michelle and I saw lots of cosmetic damage -- shattered picture windows at banks, fallen curlicues off of columns at the historic Southern Pacific Building; one brick building had a whole corner collapse, so you could see inside the building. Across the street, commuters were buying beers in the dark at one of the few bars open -- we joked about the laws against drinking in the street. All the street lights, every kind of light was out, of course.
    Finally after our success finding a phone, we walked up Montgomery Street to find Kristen. After finding her ex-roommate, getting her new address and wandering around in the dark with a candle her ex-roommate gave us, we finally found her. All around in North Beach (this Italian/yuppie neighborhood), people were shopping by candlelight at the Chinese grocery stores and having block parties listening to the radio.
    After we three dined on canned pears, saltines, peanut butter, apples, pickles, and cookies (purchased by flashlight up the street), we went up to the Scenic Point at Coit Tower. Someone had hooked up a little TV to their car lighter, so we watched Channel 7's continuous broadcast. We already knew about the fire down by the Marina district (which we could see and which filled the air with acrid smoke), but I didn't know about Highway 880. 
    We went to bed not knowing if electricity would be restored. In the morning, we woke up to the garbage men (Kristen had no non-electrical alarm clocks), and discussed whether our jobs existed without electricity or phones. "I know I can't work because I need the computers to finish this training manual I'm doing for Wells Fargo," I said. "Well, if we can't call clients and we can't use the computers and can't copy anything, what will we do about our deadline today..." said Kristen. In the end, Kristen left for work, with Michelle and I wandering downtown later. As we succeeded in finding a newspaper, Kristen reappeared saying her office was closed. Michelle and I proceeded to the BART, which was finally running again, and went home to the East Bay.
    Everyone ('non-essential' personnel) got yesterday off; Jamie had no school; it was 85 degrees and sunny. Today I learned that my temp job at Wells Fargo doesn't need me until Monday, because they are trying to straighten up the electronic funds transfers, and won't pick up their regular work for a while. We still await PG&E to come turn on the gas here at the Ratcliffs' (we smelled gas at the meter and turned it off), but that could be days. Meanwhile we use the microwave and run to our apartment for showers.
    It was odd to see Peter Jennings in front of the Marina district, where the houses fell in (down to the third story). Real estate prices are really high there, and you could see people's computers falling into the rubble as the engineers demolished the unsafe buildings. Dan Rather had to go to Oakland, and talk about the crushed freeway. The entire country thinks all of San Francisco has fallen into gaping holes, judging from the calls the Ratcliffs got. Their friends called from Germany, Scotland, Illinois. In a way, the news coverage is more stressful than the actual event.
    But I feel very jittery and off-balance, which the experts say is normal. Supposedly there have been over 1500 aftershocks which range from 4.0 to 6.0, so some you don't feel at all. I got very scared both during the quake (when I thought glass would hit me), but also by the inconvenience of losing all power in San Francisco and being stranded. Things got back to normal quickly, except fo rthe financial district, where PG&E had to check each building for gas leaks or damage before restoring power. As of Thursday noon, some buildings didn't have power. The Bay Bridge will be broken for weeks, so commuting will be awful.
    All in all, it's like having a snow day, but with no snow and warm weather. Yesterday I was exhausted (not having slept well at all), but today is a little better.
     What strikes me most is how quickly the fundamentals of yuppie culture collapse when the electricity goes out: no cappuccino, no muffins, no banks open (no funds transfer), no MUNI, no electric buses (the ones that are so quiet compared to the diesel buses), no faxing, no copying, no computers, no phone calls, no answering machines. In a city where 24-hour customer service has been the watchword, you couldn't get through to anyone on the phone, not even Federal Express!
    The water seems ok, but in places near the quake center they are having water supply problems. San Jose, which always seems like a stepchild to San Francisco, got a lot of damage to downtown, as did many historic towns. It all makes you think of what could have happened.
    Still it's amazing what did get going, and that the TV stations were able to run on battery power, that individuals had their video cameras going and fed the material to the networks, that TVs could be plugged into cars. (Those sports fans!: always prepared!)
----------------------------------------------------------
    In the end it took PG&E 4 days to turn back on our gas.

7. by Julia Fuller [Back To Top]
    When the earthquake occurred I was at home. First my birds started squawking loudly. I said "what's happening," my mom said "earthquake!" It was only my mom and I at home. I started to climb underneath a glass coffee table, then I remembered: don't get near glass in an earthquake. My mom pulled me from under the table and we both stood under a safe doorway, covering each other. I was scared and I was not afraid to admit it. We watched the pictures slant and fall off the walls. We watched books fall off shelves and crash on the floor. When finally it was over we went to put the house back together. After mom and I put the books and pictures back right, I went to look for our bird. When the earthquake was occurring he flew down from his cage (he was sitting on top) and started walking on the floor. Then he flew again and went out of our sight from the doorway. I looked all over for him and tried to make him squawk from wherever he was by making noises. Finally I found him on our curtain on the back door. I was relieved. I went upstairs to see what happened to my room. I was real lucky my lamp was stuck between my bed and my bedside table. If it had not gotten stuck it probably would have broke. Also my gumballs were spilled all over and a lot of thing fell off my shelves. It took me a while to clean it all up, but I managed. I examined all sorts of cracks in our walls from the earthquake. I thought about the people who had a lot worse things happen to them and all the people who had close calls. That earthquake was a tragic experience.

8.[Anonymous] [Back To Top]

    I was in a small outdoor park in Berkeley, just emerging from the bushes onto the lawn. I was walking a puppy I was babysitting and he gave no warning signs (perhaps it's only cats and horses who "feel" these things coming). It was eerie - the dog seemed to be going one way, the bushes another, the ground and I another. However, I suppose it was the safest place - outside away from buildings, wires, and trees.
    My belongings were stored at a friend's hotel room in Oakland, where I spent the nights when I could slip past the desk clerk or afford the visitor fee. My boyfriend and I were homeless at the time. But when it came time to collect from Red Cross, FEMA, etc., we got nothing as we were not on the hotel register. So we, who had so little anyway, lost it all. We only got into an earthquake shelter because my boyfriend has AIDS. Isn't it a shame you have to be dying to get any help? I have to say, the Mercy Manor people - bless them - were wonderful. I don't know what we would have done without them. It turned out to be one of the nicest Xmases ever!

9. by Steve Reimer [Back To Top]
    I'm the director of the Neighborhood Center of the First Baptist Church of Oakland. The Center has a variety of programs for youth after school: a tutoring program, recreation, boys and girls' clubs, special events, and field trips. So, on October 17, 1989, we were all in the gym having recreation time. I had my two year old son, Greg, in my arms. Several kids were on the stage area of the gym where we have video and Nintendo games, air hockey, and a pool table. One of the parents of the children had come by for a visit and he and I were talking by the exit door of the gym. Then the ground began to roll and shake - at first I was startled then realized it was an earthquake. But then I looked up onto 22nd Street and the houses literally rocked back and forth! And then I heard the loudest bang I ever heard. I turned back to look at the stage area and all I could see was thick dust and smoke. I started to run toward the stage and out of the rubble I saw little arms and head come popping up and out of corners! I was so relieved. What had happened was the top part of a chimney in the sanctuary building (older building) had fallen about 20 feet through the roof of the gym - right on the stage area between the pool table and air hockey game! It left a 4 ft by 6 ft hole! The mass of bricks would have really injured someone, even killed them, if someone had been standing there. Fortunately, the 3 kids playing pool had all dived under the pool table - which saved them from any serious harm. I have never been more thankful for a pool table than I was that Tuesday at 5:04 PM!

10.by Lee Horzempa [Back To Top]
    I will always remember exactly where I was at 5:04PM on Oct. 17, 1989. I was in my sister's apartment in Oakland with my 1 1/2 year old nephew. At 5:03 I was trying to convince him it was time for a diaper change, an activity which, for some reason, he strongly opposes. At 5:04 PM I had managed to get his diaper off but before I could grab a new one I noticed that the apartment had started shaking. Having lived in California for 4 1/2 years I knew what to do when one's apartment suddenly begins to move. I grabbed my nephew and sat with him under a door frame watching assorted books and objects jump off the bookshelves. My nephew did not find this amusing. He started crying and tried to run off, probably hoping to catch the next plane out of California. I kept telling him "It's all right, Devin, it's all right," but I was thinking "It is NOT all right; we're having the “Big Earthquake” and I'm here alone with a naked baby." When the shaking finally stopped (after what seemed like a lot longer than 15 seconds), I let my nephew go. He had now obviously lost all interest in diapers. He ran around the room and was quite disturbed to find things that normally stayed on bookshelves now lying on the floor. Like all of us, he talked about the earthquake for weeks afterward ("everything fall down"). I wonder if he will have any memory of that afternoon when he grows up.

11.by James Gold [Back To Top]

[ed., Gold was a member of the professional staff at the Oakland Public Library.]

   I was in the Oakland History Room at the Main Library when the shaking began. I was talking to Dana Heidrick (who works in the basement) and remember saying to her "did you feel something?" Before she could respond, the shaking intensified and I dropped the phone and stood in a doorway. The floor seemed to move in waves and I noticed a small glass bookcase vibrating, the copy machine moving, and a large double-unit of bookcases (one side with glass doors) weaving. Larry Odoms, who works in the newspaper room, was the only other person in the room. He remained seated at a table. When the bookcases started weaving I shouted "Larry!" He got up and ran out of the room. Moments later the entire unit fell over, crushing chairs and 2 tables. I will always remember the sound of glass breaking as the cabinets and a few pictures fell down. Dust was rising from the rubble - it all seemed so unreal. As I stood in the doorway I was on the verge of screaming. It seemed to go on too long and I remember thinking this is the 'Big One.' I also remembered someone telling me this building was very solid - a good place to be in an earthquake - which calmed me down a bit! The room was a mess but I still didn't realize the severity of the quake - I assumed I would just work downstairs in the History/Lit Dept. that evening! We were then told to go home where luckily, I found no damage. I was able to call my parents in NY immediately - my father told me that the Bay Bridge had collapsed and that was my first sense of how awful the quake had been. Shortly afterwards, our power returned and we saw TV coverage of the Cypress, Bridge, and Marina areas. The anxiety still lingers nearly six months later!

12. 5:04 PM by Earl T. McMullen [Back To Top]
My 89-year-old mother and I were sitting on the back porch sharing the last apple of the season grown in our yard when suddenly a good size tremor shook the building (a four-unit building) followed by a severe shake bringing us to our feet as we were horrified waiting for the building to start coming apart - then there was complete quiet and calm. In the far distance we could hear emergency vehicles on their way. I went to the basement to check the hot water heater - it was okay. I smelled no gas leaks, but our electricity was out immediately and didn't come back on until the next day.
    I walked down East 18th St where few people or cars were visible. I noticed across the sidewalk the brick chimney of the historic 10th Ave and E. 18th St. house. The brick veneer of the church on 7th Avenue collapsed, but there was complete calm everywhere I looked.
    Upon returning home, the portable radio announced the bridge collapse and the Cypress structure stating that at least 200 people were most likely crushed.
    No one I know slept much that night - including myself. I've lived in Oakland all of my 60 years, but have never felt the earth move like that before.
    The third world series game was postponed which we were looking forward to seeing Oakland beat San Francisco - again - and we did when play resumed days later.

13. by Victoria Chames [Back To Top]

    (published in the newsletter of the California Women Firefighters Association):
     When the quake hit I was at home in Berkeley. I turned on the radio and TV; there was nothing -- all but one channel blitzed out. I phoned O.E.S. command HQ but couldn't get through. I called two senior officers but only got answering machines. Our standing order in such a circumstance is to go to station 1 in San Leandro and stage there. I wondered how long it would take to get there in rush hour and post-quake traffic. I went outside to check the neighborhood to see if anyone was hurt. No one was. I could see from my driveway a large column of black smoke in downtown Berkeley; it seemed to be Shattuck Hotel, a residence hotel of mostly elderly patrons.
    O.E.S. is by charter a disaster agency. Most of the time we serve as an all-volunteer mutual-aid fire department. Most of our calls are in south and southeast county but we can be called into any part of Alameda County and the adjoining counties of Alameda and Contra Costa. The traffic was already backing up. I knew it would take a long time, maybe even hours, to get to San Leandro. I decided to go at once to the downtown fire. It was only eight blocks away, but without benefit of lights or sirens, it took me more than fifteen minutes to get there, inching along packed streets full of panicked people trying to get home.
  I reported to the I.C. (Incident Commander) and identified myself and my department, and said I would be glad to help out in any way I could. I was turned over to Engine 5 and we worked the fire until about 11:30 PM along with E-7, E-3, and T-2. The fire apparently started when a transformer on a power pole was blown out by the earthquake. That caused a surge which blew out an electrical panel in Hustead's auto repair & towing (next door to the hotel, but not involving it). The resulting fire caused the explosion of several 50-gallon drums of paint thinner. A few acetylene tanks also blew, creating a fast, hot fire. The heat caused the truss roof to collapse very quickly and almost in one piece, on top of about 30 cars and trucks, serving like a lid on a skillet to hold the heat and fire inside. The cars were burning real good with all that spilled paint thinner, and we couldn't get much water on most of them because the roof was protecting the fire from above, yet plenty of air could still get in from below. We had to try to shoot streams up under the edges, through cracks, holes, whatever we could. The fire was controlled but it kept burning till it burned itself out. The cars were a total loss: only one was gotten out, because the roof went so quickly. What was left of the roof was an ocean of melted tar. When it was finally out we picked up and went back to station 5. After we reloaded hose and put the engine back in service, it was close to midnight when we went inside to eat dinner. The TV was on, and that was the first we knew about the Cypress collapse and the Bay Bridge. No wonder traffic was backed up, even in Berkeley.
    A week later at our monthly planning meeting, I heard the stories from the other O.E.S. firefighters. Most of them made it to station 1, coming from the south end. They went to the Cypress scene with two engines and a patrol, and rescued one man from his car, though it didn't make the news. They risked their personal safety on the structure which was not shored-up yet or protected in any way, and they worked into the night searching the cars for survivors.
    I never heard O.E.S. get mentioned in the news, and I really appreciated the fact that it did get mentioned by the CWFS article. The Berkeley fire got only a 2-second film clip of the smoke, and one sentence that there had been a major fire in Berkeley. It was nothing compared to the other incidents and loss. But I didn't stay up for all the news because I had to get up at 5:00 AM to go to work at the hospital. I wasn't scheduled, but I knew I would probably be called in. I live two lives -- I wear two uniforms, one blue, one white. Sometimes it gets very discouraging. I can't imagine my life without fire service, but unless I can get hired by a paid department, I have to work two jobs for the sake of one. If you ever think that volunteer fire service is a hobby, think again. For most of us, it's a lot more than that.
    I tried to call the hospital next day, but couldn't get through. I went over there; they were just bringing in a patient we all knew and were fond of. He was dying, and having extreme difficulty breathing. It looked like he would die on the gurney right there in the hall. We hurried to get him into a room and call his family. Hurrying to set up his oxygen, a nurse fell and injured her hand. All evening he vomited a great deal of blood; he would not make it through another night. He was only 31, and his fiancée was with him through it all, and so were we. By the time I went home I was so tired that even aftershocks didn't bother me. I made a bed for myself next to the bearing wall of my house and went to sleep. The next day I worked my normal shift at the hospital and many of the O.E.S. fire and rescue people went back to the Cypress overpass. I felt badly that I wasn't with them.
    Most people have never heard of O.E.S. We are all volunteer, most with families and jobs. The time we give doesn't always come easy. We are a serious, hardworking department, and we try to be as professional as possible. Two weeks after the quake, a network TV series ("Murder, She Wrote") portrayed volunteer firefighters as being stupid, clumsy, and incompetent. And so the traditional jokes and put-downs live on in homes all over America.
    We're not like that. We're dedicated, hardworking firefighters, and stuff like that kind of hurts. Some are more capable than others, just like any fire department; but we go where we're needed and we do what needs to be done.
    For those of you who wrote in the C.W.F.S. newsletter about how disappointed you were because you didn't get a chance to get "up close and personal" with the worst of it, I want you to remember that what counts is that you were there. You did your job and you were ready and willing to do more. That's what makes it all work, up and down the line. You can't be on the nozzle every time. But you did your assignment and you gave it your best. That's the same thing we all do. 

14. by Georgina Crusto [Back To Top]
    On October 17, 1989 I was at work: Delta Sigma Phi in Berkeley, I'm a chef. My daughter-in-law had dropped off one of my granddaughters to see me; she had been asking to see her granny. I was frying chicken and had just fixed Chelley (granddaughter) some Trix to eat and watching the CBS news. The kitchen shook so hard. I was trying to reach for Chelley and couldn't keep my balance. The TV station went off for an instant and I turned off the burners and was really scared. Chelley never noticed what was happening; she's two years old. One of the guys came running into the kitchen with only a towel wrapped around him; he was taking a shower and fell up against the shower wall and bumped his head. We just looked at each other and finally some other guys came in from outside; they had been playing basketball and asked "did you feel that Georgina?" I said yes, and I was holding Chelley tight in my arms. The guys were telling me that the fault was the next street up from us and that if the quake had been any stronger and longer the building wouldn't stay up. I got really scared then. My daughter-in-law called to check on us and I told her we were alright. I thank God no one was hurt and pray for the people who lost their lives elsewhere. It's amazing how something like that makes people forget about color and stick together to help one another. It gives me hope that one day we will all be as one and turn this nation around. We can live together in peace and harmony.
    Thank you for giving me this opportunity to express how I feel.
    Sincerely,
    Georgina

15. By Howard Egerman [Back To Top]

    I had just gotten home from Hayward and had reached my house. I wanted to watch the World Series. I asked my wife if she wanted me to pick something up for dinner. She said one place, and I said I would miss some of the series. No, I wanted to go close to home, and so she said Giant Burger. I went to the Giant Burger off Fruitvale and MacArthur. I was on Fruitvale Avenue, my radio turned to 680 KNBR when at 5:04 my car started shaking back and forth. On the Monday previously I had gone to Berkeley Toyota and gotten a tune up. So I started cussing them out and thinking that I would have to take leave to get my car fixed because it kept moving and I noticed that others had their cars doing the same thing. So relieved, I said that was an earthquake, and said to myself that felt different than other quakes. The radio was still off. My wife wanted her food and so I went to Giant Burger and asked if they were still open. They said yes and so I ordered her burger. She told me on the way home to stop at Winchell's Donuts on Fruitvale down the street from our house. While at Giant Burger I noticed all the lights were off. And so I drove to Winchell's. The signals were off. I bought her dessert. She wanted a large drink, but there was no electricity and I had to get her orange juice. The cash register did not work. My radio still did not work. When I came home, I told her there was a quake. She said she felt it too. Everybody was in the street on our block. I had a watchman TV in my trunk because of the fact that we had gone to the series in Oakland and so it was through this that we were able to find out that the quake was big. We compared notes. My wife went looking for a flashlight. We talked to our neighbors. I met one person who asked me how long I lived there. I told him 12 years. This was the first time we met. Everybody walked around the block in order to see if we could tell if someone had electricity. Some neighbors who came originally from Laos began barbecuing from their foodstuffs in the back yard. I pointed out to the neighbors the fact that there were big cracks in our street. The people in the apartment house next door pointed out to me that part of my chimney had fallen out. I walked all around the house and could not find the bricks. We checked for other damage. My wife made me come inside the house and throw out a mirror that had broken. I cut my hand on the glass. By this time we had found out that the quake was major, the Bay Bridge was done and our phone did not work. 

    We went to sleep that night listening to sirens from the Cypress Structure. We were unable to call my mother in San Jose in order to find out how she was. My sister from Redwood City was finally, about 9PM, able to call us. My brother called me about 5 AM the next morning. 

    The next morning we still did not have lights. They did not go on until Thursday morning. So I called work and asked if I had to come in, they said yes. And so, I went to a 24-hour Safeway and bought my wife some food. The place was sold out of batteries and flashlights because there had been a run on this type of equipment. 

    I figured all along that this was my quake. My grandmother had been in the 1906 earthquake and told me all about it. This was mine. 

    I was grateful to be where I was. The fact that there was a series caused me to stay close to home and not drive on 580 and be close to my wife and dogs.   

16. by Florence L. Neilson [Back To Top]

    As I am a survivor of the 1906 earthquake when I was 11 years old and lived at 1307 Larkin St, SF, I am terrified when a quake happens. I was standing on  the rear porch of my apartment and remember saying "My God, not another earthquake." It did not do any damage to my apartment - but in the SF quake they dynamited the house we rented on Larkin Street - an experience I've never forgotten. We (my mother and I) walked all the way to the ferry and took a boat to Alameda where my aunt Hattie lived at that time. My mother married my stepfather and we moved to Denver, Colorado. I can't remember when we came back to California, but we had lived in Oakland since then and the quake since then have occurred around  5:00 AM. I had mislaid this sheet which explains why I am just mailing it. 

17. by Ann Brinkley [Back To Top]

    On October 17, 1989 at 5:04 PM, I had just locked the office building at 659 14th Street ( Charles Green Library Building) leaving five other City of Oakland employees inside the building who had planned to work late. I walked to my car that was parked in the driveway beside the building, opened the door placing my briefcase and purse inside and for some unknown reason shut the car door. I remember asking myself, why did I do that, when my usual pattern was to get inside the car, even if I was talking to someone. After pushing the door shut, I continued to talk to one of my co-workers in the driveway and unconsciously backed away from the car approximately ten feet. All of a sudden the ground started moving beneath our feet like water waves and we started screaming and struggling to stand up. The buildings were swaying back and forth, debris falling, and I heard a loud boom. In a state of sheer panic, my first thought was that the world was coming to an end. My second thought was that someone had blown up downtown. After the ground stopped shaking, I looked around and my car was covered with bricks that had fallen from the chimney next door. May car was totally destroyed. My first thought was, Oh, My God, but I am alive! I could have been inside the car! I must say that for the next month, my nerves were completely shot. After working at the Emergency Center and with the Red Cross assisting persons less fortunate than myself, I realized how blessed I really was. 

18. by Therese C. Ellis [Back To Top]

    "We're having an earthquake!" 

    No sooner had Tracy, a co-worker, said this than it stopped. I laughed and stepped forward. As I put my foot down I felt the ground rise up and meet it. 

    "Oh no! It's not over yet," I cried. 

    The ground was shaking again, this time with great force. Well trained by recent occasional earthquakes, Tracy and I got under an archway, crouched down, and covered our heads. 

    "It's almost over," I promised myself. 

    But the earthquake was just getting started. As it became increasingly stronger, I began to get frightened, my thoughts a confused mess. 

    "It's getting worse! No, it's going to stop. We might be killed! Please stop! I'm going to die!"

    Suddenly, above the roar of the earthquake and my own frantic thoughts, I heard breaking glass. Bottles of food were jerking off the shelves and shattering. The noise broke my train of panicked thought, and I recovered my senses enough to say a quick prayer. 

    "If I die, that is what is meant to be, and it will probably happen fast," I thought. 

    Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the quaking stopped. After a moment of intense silence the owner shouted "Is everyone all right?" He was answered by a chorus of tremulous affirmations. 

    Tracy and I stood up and gave each other a hug, both of us grateful to be alive. We joined the rest of the workers at the front of the delicatessen. They were conversing in subdued tones and surveying the damage. One section of the floor was covered with a mixture of food, broken glass, and oil. Other than that the store was fine, and, as far as we could tell, the building was unharmed. But our electricity was out, and the phone didn't work. Having no way to reach family members, everyone began to wonder silently, and the conversation soon died out. One worker took a mop and began cleaning up the broken glass, another locked our front doors, and  I took up the task of washing dishes with a powerless dishwasher and trembling fingers in a dark room. 

19.by Ethel L. Davis [Back To Top]

    I had gone to Emporium/Capwell's, to return a pair of shoes. Just as the clerk was going to the cash register, the earthquake happened. It was a hard shake. The clerk said to another clerk, "We're having an earthquake!" Then it came, a harder earthquake, causing the building to crumble down and cave in. People were screaming, running, but somehow I didn't get scared. I PRAYED, and thinking of others, as many ran to me, I said to those that ran to me "Try to keep calm and PRAY! Now is the time to PRAY." Somehow I was perfectly calm! There were two ladies came to me saying "My child! I can't find my child!" I said ""PRAY! GOD HAS HIS PROTECTING ARMS around your CHILD." When I told people to pray and try to be calm, they said "PRAY?" and they became calm, then started screaming again as we were on the 1st floor, and the building was really coming down. I was telling people to go out the door, as we were near the telegraph door, and many were screaming and running toward Broadway doors. While I was telling them to go out the door, the security guard came and said "Lady, you're doing a wonderful job." Suddenly, someone snatched me, just in time as the ceiling and all caved in and came down. I stood outside in silence, then told the people to go across the street, get away from the building. Then I PRAYED for the person who snatched me, and saved me from being injured or killed. 

    I often wondered if the ladies' children were found, whether the children were hurt or not, whether the children were boy or girl. 

    I also volunteered, taking food to those on Cypress St. I guess I was all nervous and bottled up and didn't realize it, thinking and trying to help and PRAYING. For others it was a horrible site and experience. I'm THANKFUL to GOD to be ALIVE. I'm BLESSED. 

20. by Josh Kotler [Back To Top]

    My earthquake story took place at my school football game. The game was between St. Paul's and Athenian. Both schools were, or are, middle schools (6-8th). I played safety, but I was sitting out one day because I hurt my ankle the play before. The field was in Lake Merritt Park. Lake Merritt was about 10 feet from the field. Before the game someone threw a ball into the lake. Anyway, the quarterback of the other team went back to pass, he saw an open receiver and threw. The backup safety, who was replacing me, jumped in front of the receiver and intercepted the pass. As soon as he intercepted it, he started running it back for a touchdown. When he crossed the goal line, he spiked the ball. As soon as the ball hit the ground, the ground started shaking. Everything was swaying, and the water in the lake made big waves. The building next to the field, which was an old brick 24-story building started shaking. Then all these bricks started falling down onto cars. Windows were breaking and falling onto the field. At first I thought it was a sniper shooting at the building, because I was jumping up and down and didn't feel the shaking. But about 3 or 4 seconds into the quake, I realized that it was an earthquake. I started to feel dizzy and then started swaying back and forth. The quake got worse as it went on. By the end it was shaking the hardest. At first the quake didn't really feel that big, but it kept getting worse as it went along. At the end there was one big shake and a loud crashing sound, which I later found out was the Cypress Structure collapsing.  The rest of the week there was no school, and all that was on television was the news on the quake. The quake happened on Tuesday, and regular TV shows didn't come back on until Sunday and Monday. The main focus was on the Cypress Structure.