Flashback


October 17, 1989. The weather was unusually dry that day. Too dry for San Francisco. It was always such a bitch to wear the damned wool uniform skirt on days like these. VirgoCapri, Mish, CC, and I were headed to 6th period Geometry with Mr. Frezzo. As we headed into the coolness of Herbst Hall, I vividly recall the exact words that came out of my mouth "..this is earthquake weather."


Aside from the heat, the day was like no other.


I don't remember the bus ride home from school that day. I don't remember changing out of my uniform or getting a drink of milk. I do remember heading downstairs to the basement of the house to play "Dark Castle" on our MAC computer. The computer sat on top of the liquor bar and I situated myself on one of those bar stools, the same ones that we used to lie on our tummies on and spin around and around endlessly until you felt like throwing up when we were kids. Haha, simple pleasures. Anyways, everyone in our family always flocked to the basement on warm days because the temperature was just comfortably cooler. In fact, of the thirteen steps it takes to go downstairs from the top floor, you feel the shift in temperature at about the seventh or eighth step down. Sitting in the stairwell could often bring relief to those hot Indian summers.


I remember hearing the garage rumble open. Dad was home. He always came home through the garage. I didn't even have to look at the time because Pops came home around the same time everyday: 5pm-ish. I'm assuming that we exchanged our hellos and while I continued my quest to retrieve the elixir of life, my Dad continued upstairs to get dinner started. Approximately five minutes later, it happened.


Through the many earthquakes I've experienced and no matter how small they were, they never failed to leave my heart pounding afterwards. Aside from the actual shaking, it's the sounds that scare me. As an earthquake begins, you hear this deep rumbling sound and you're not sure, at first, where it's coming from. Then, you start to feel the ground below you move and it almost reminds you of that rickety bridge you have to walk across on playgrounds. And while the reality of what's going on has yet to hit, you're standing still, perhaps frozen in fear, watching everything around you move to and fro. Usually, many don't realize it was an earthquake until it's over. Many times, it'd last but a second or two. Some miss them it altogether.


I remember the view from my stool. We have this huge bookcase downstairs that is filled with picture frames, vases, trophies, and plants...all of which were losing its place. The leaves of my mom's plants were trembling just as my knees started to shake. I thought to myself, "Okay, it should be over any second now." But it didn't stop. All of a sudden, I heard my Dad calling my name. His voice sounded urgent and panicked. I've never heard his sound so scared before. Whatever happened to that unspoken rule about not panicking front of the kids?! I figured that I had to get myself upstairs and man, that was an obstacle in itself. Thank goodness for the handrail because I don't know how I ever made it upstairs. I was being knocked right and left and could have easily lost my balance. When I finally reached the kitchen, the manner in which I found my Dad is something that we can all laugh about now, but at the time, my dad was bracing the counters so tight that I'd probably be able to see the white of his knuckles. After about another few seconds, the shaking stopped. Immediately after, it seemed like the whole neighborhood came out to check up on each other. Perhaps it felt safer to be outside with others than to be alone inside. My dad and I surveyed the damage around the house. Nothing major. Lots of fallen items. The huge mirror above the piano fell, but miraculously held on by the other hook. The weight of it left a dent mark in the wall that's still there today.


My sister didn't come home and spent the night at UC Berkeley. My uncle, who happened to be on the Bay Bridge, had to turn around and stay at our house to calm his nerves. He wasn't too far from where the section fell. My mom who was waiting at the BART station said she literally saw the streets roll like waves. We lost power and throughout the night, we endured endless tremors of aftershocks. I wouldn't get any sleep that night because as each aftershock came, I'd either bolt upright in bed and debate in my head whether or not to head for the door or just freeze with the covers over my head praying that it'd be over quickly.


A 7.1 earthquake rocked da Bay. The World Series between the Oakland A's and the San Francisco Giants was interrupted. The Marina District was up in flames and I could clearly see the rising smoke from my bedroom window. A section of the Bay Bridge collapsed and much to everyone's horror, two freeways buckled instantly killing and trapping people in their cars as they headed home to their loved ones. All this in a matter of fifteen seconds.


Even though it's been 15 years, I always take the time to remember the events that took place on that fateful day. It'll be a day that I'll remember for the rest of my life.