To follow up on yesterday, here is a story Rye told me when I got home for the winter break.
A few days after the earthquake, Rye was on a bus going downtown. The bus wasn't crowded, but was full, and some teenagers got on the bus, making the usual noise teenagers make. Rye, who wears a hearing aid, turned it down so he could continue to ride the bus in peace. Someone else on the bus told the young people to quiet down. They refused and started arguing with the person who had asked them to be quieter.
Rye said that pretty soon everyone on the back of the bus was yelling at each other, some telling others to be quiet, others complaining that no one had the right to tell these kids what to do. Rye quickly decided that he didn't want to be around all that poisonous yelling, and got off the bus, watching it drive away with people still yelling inside.
A couple blocks later he caught up with the bus. It was pulled over to the curb, not at a stop, with an SFPD car parked behind it. The people inside were still yelling, waving their arms, and pointing at everyone else.
Rye figured that while the original argument may have been over noise, the real issue was that people were still upset by the earthquake.
Showing posts with label earthquake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label earthquake. Show all posts
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Fifteen Seconds
The twentieth anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake passed a couple weeks ago. That was the quake that knocked down Watsonville and parts of Santa Cruz, broke part of the Bay Bridge, collapsed a 1.25 mile section of highway, caused a big fire in the Marina district, and postponed the third game of the World Series between the San Francisco Giants and the Oakland A's.
I was in Tacoma, at college, hanging around the house with some folks, including a friend of mine who had just arrived by from San Francisco for a visit when I received a call from a guy I was seeing. He had been watching TV, waiting for the game to start, when he (and everyone else) lost the video feed and learned that an earthquake had just hit the Bay Area. He didn't have a phone and had jumped in his car to go to a friend's to let me know.
At the time, a friend of ours had (unofficially) moved in to live with his girlfriend, one of my housemates. While none of us "real" residents of the house had a TV, this fellow had one in storage in the basement and we brought it upstairs and propped it on the coffee table. I remember that it was both small and yellow.
I tried to reach Mom and couldn't get through, so I called my aunt in Massachusetts to see if she had heard from Mom (this was our back-up plan for emergencies). While I was on the phone with Aunt Alice, Mom called and said that she was all right and the house was all right. She had just sat down in a meeting with two people at work when the earthquake struck, and after the they ducked under the doorway or the desk, everyone had gone straight home. No was at college in Southern California and she had already spoken to him.
My friend who had just arrived got in touch with his family, who lived outside SF, a few hours later. In the hours while we watched the news, I kept thinking of more people to wonder about how they were doing. A friend of my mother's lived in the Marina (still does), though I didn't know where exactly she lived so any of those apartment buildings that had just fallen on their faces could have been hers. Eventually I learned that this person wasn't allowed back in her apartment for three days, when the SFFD let her in for fifteen minutes to get some things; she stayed with a friend until her home was cleared by the engineers. Most of one family was at their warehouse south of Market Street; the buildings on both sides lost their front walls, but their building was fine, and at home they lost only one teacup when it fell out of the cupboard.
It was bad enough being glued to the television. I'd heard Mom use that expression when she would describe where she and Dad were when JFK was shot. It was really strange to be so far away when the earthquake happened - particularly for my friend, who had left SF the previous day. We felt like we should have been there, participating.
Are you prepared?
I was in Tacoma, at college, hanging around the house with some folks, including a friend of mine who had just arrived by from San Francisco for a visit when I received a call from a guy I was seeing. He had been watching TV, waiting for the game to start, when he (and everyone else) lost the video feed and learned that an earthquake had just hit the Bay Area. He didn't have a phone and had jumped in his car to go to a friend's to let me know.
At the time, a friend of ours had (unofficially) moved in to live with his girlfriend, one of my housemates. While none of us "real" residents of the house had a TV, this fellow had one in storage in the basement and we brought it upstairs and propped it on the coffee table. I remember that it was both small and yellow.
I tried to reach Mom and couldn't get through, so I called my aunt in Massachusetts to see if she had heard from Mom (this was our back-up plan for emergencies). While I was on the phone with Aunt Alice, Mom called and said that she was all right and the house was all right. She had just sat down in a meeting with two people at work when the earthquake struck, and after the they ducked under the doorway or the desk, everyone had gone straight home. No was at college in Southern California and she had already spoken to him.
My friend who had just arrived got in touch with his family, who lived outside SF, a few hours later. In the hours while we watched the news, I kept thinking of more people to wonder about how they were doing. A friend of my mother's lived in the Marina (still does), though I didn't know where exactly she lived so any of those apartment buildings that had just fallen on their faces could have been hers. Eventually I learned that this person wasn't allowed back in her apartment for three days, when the SFFD let her in for fifteen minutes to get some things; she stayed with a friend until her home was cleared by the engineers. Most of one family was at their warehouse south of Market Street; the buildings on both sides lost their front walls, but their building was fine, and at home they lost only one teacup when it fell out of the cupboard.
It was bad enough being glued to the television. I'd heard Mom use that expression when she would describe where she and Dad were when JFK was shot. It was really strange to be so far away when the earthquake happened - particularly for my friend, who had left SF the previous day. We felt like we should have been there, participating.
Are you prepared?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Shaky Anniversary
I had forgotten this, but yesterday was the 18th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake.
I was in college in Tacoma at the time, and a friend of mine had just driven up from San Francisco that day. My housemates and I, with my friend, were munching crackers and smoked salmon (made by the Native American stepfather of one of my housemates) during what we called "cocktail hour" when a fellow I was seeing, who had been at home watching the pregame show for the World Series, called. He didn't have a phone and had driven to his friend's house to tell me about the earthquake (we didn't have a tv set, and probably wouldn't have been watching it anyway).
We found a tv; one of our unofficial housemates had a small tv tucked away in the basement. It was hard to understand the pictures since no one really knew what was going on, and since the fire in the Marina was getting most of the attention it was hard to know how the rest of the city had fared.
My friend and I immediately started making phone calls. It took me several tries to get through to Mom, and while I was talking to her my aunt called me from New England. Mom had called her first in case lines got too crowded to get calls in or out, so my aunt could call me and No (who was at San Diego State then) and let us know Mom was all right. My friend talked to his family, who were also all right. He was feeling strange, as it seemed like he had left town just in time to miss the quake.
As time went on, the people I waited for news of their situation grew. It really felt like a ripple; the circle got wider and wider as I wondered, "What happened to....?" Mom had just sat down for a meeting with two other people, and they ducked under the desk, a table, and stood in the doorway. Mom's house is on bedrock and she worked close to home, where nothing was damaged. The Singhs lost a couple of tea cups at their house, but the building next door to the warehouse where most of them were working that afternoon fell down. Mom's friend Kupia, who lives in the Marina, had to move out for a few weeks. An acquaintance of one of my housemates survived the sandwiching of 880 in Oakland.
Now they are telling us that an earthquake on the Hayward Fault is due anytime. I've been hearing that all the years I've lived here, though when I was a kid it was the San Andreas Fault that was going to destroy everything (as it was in 1906 and 1989). We lives up the street from the Hayward Fault, but it's just as likely that Zirpu and I would be at work when an earthquake happens. I hope we're not, because both of us work on the other side of bridges and tunnels from home. I really hope we're not on our way between home and work.
We live on the edge of the continent, along a couple of fault lines. We have a responsibility to be prepared.
I was in college in Tacoma at the time, and a friend of mine had just driven up from San Francisco that day. My housemates and I, with my friend, were munching crackers and smoked salmon (made by the Native American stepfather of one of my housemates) during what we called "cocktail hour" when a fellow I was seeing, who had been at home watching the pregame show for the World Series, called. He didn't have a phone and had driven to his friend's house to tell me about the earthquake (we didn't have a tv set, and probably wouldn't have been watching it anyway).
We found a tv; one of our unofficial housemates had a small tv tucked away in the basement. It was hard to understand the pictures since no one really knew what was going on, and since the fire in the Marina was getting most of the attention it was hard to know how the rest of the city had fared.
My friend and I immediately started making phone calls. It took me several tries to get through to Mom, and while I was talking to her my aunt called me from New England. Mom had called her first in case lines got too crowded to get calls in or out, so my aunt could call me and No (who was at San Diego State then) and let us know Mom was all right. My friend talked to his family, who were also all right. He was feeling strange, as it seemed like he had left town just in time to miss the quake.
As time went on, the people I waited for news of their situation grew. It really felt like a ripple; the circle got wider and wider as I wondered, "What happened to....?" Mom had just sat down for a meeting with two other people, and they ducked under the desk, a table, and stood in the doorway. Mom's house is on bedrock and she worked close to home, where nothing was damaged. The Singhs lost a couple of tea cups at their house, but the building next door to the warehouse where most of them were working that afternoon fell down. Mom's friend Kupia, who lives in the Marina, had to move out for a few weeks. An acquaintance of one of my housemates survived the sandwiching of 880 in Oakland.
Now they are telling us that an earthquake on the Hayward Fault is due anytime. I've been hearing that all the years I've lived here, though when I was a kid it was the San Andreas Fault that was going to destroy everything (as it was in 1906 and 1989). We lives up the street from the Hayward Fault, but it's just as likely that Zirpu and I would be at work when an earthquake happens. I hope we're not, because both of us work on the other side of bridges and tunnels from home. I really hope we're not on our way between home and work.
We live on the edge of the continent, along a couple of fault lines. We have a responsibility to be prepared.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Be Prepared
Even if you don't live here you may have heard that a gasoline tanker truck rolled and blew up on the highway at 3:40 this morning, and that the resulting fire was so hot and lasted so long that it caused bolts to melt and the ramp above to collapse. Miraculously, the driver survived with second-degree burns, and no one else was hurt, let alone killed. Whatever happens next to him, clearly his mission on earth is unfinished.
Really amazing video can be seen at YouTube, of course. A good map of the Maze can be seen here. There is a reason why that area is called the MacArthur Maze; those highways are like Pickup Sticks, one laid over the other. The part of the highway that collapsed affects eastbound traffic coming off the Bay Bridge going almost everywhere else in the east bay. I was talking to a friend today and explained that it would be like the I-5 bridge over the Columbia River between Portland and Vancouver collapsing.
Everyone who works in SF is planning to telecommute or working on an alternate route home tomorrow. Zirpu is planning to telecommute, not being willing to brave what will probably be intensely crowded BART trains for a day that doesn't include any meetings. I am still planning to drive to the food bank tomorrow, knowing that the ride home may be much slower than usual - and if it is much much slower, I'll plan to walk from the Lake Merritt BART station to the FB and back (about1.75 miles, some of which is through the Posey Tunnel) the next time I go. I don't expect my commute to the FB to be affected that much, since I get off well before the Maze and travel after the morning rush, but the afternoon will probably be affected as 880 is the only way anywhere until this gets repaired.
We live in an earthquake zone. I think CalTrans, the governator, and the legislators, as well as all the public transpo agencies, should think of this as a small rehearsal. There's been much made of the fact that if a major quake comes from the Hayward Fault (which runs through our neighborhood) it could break chunks of 80, 580, 880, and/or 980 freeways, any of which would affect the trip to or from the Bay Bridge, a major major artery in the miles of highways around here. They can observe and plan what to do, and hope that it doesn't happen.
Really amazing video can be seen at YouTube, of course. A good map of the Maze can be seen here. There is a reason why that area is called the MacArthur Maze; those highways are like Pickup Sticks, one laid over the other. The part of the highway that collapsed affects eastbound traffic coming off the Bay Bridge going almost everywhere else in the east bay. I was talking to a friend today and explained that it would be like the I-5 bridge over the Columbia River between Portland and Vancouver collapsing.
Everyone who works in SF is planning to telecommute or working on an alternate route home tomorrow. Zirpu is planning to telecommute, not being willing to brave what will probably be intensely crowded BART trains for a day that doesn't include any meetings. I am still planning to drive to the food bank tomorrow, knowing that the ride home may be much slower than usual - and if it is much much slower, I'll plan to walk from the Lake Merritt BART station to the FB and back (about1.75 miles, some of which is through the Posey Tunnel) the next time I go. I don't expect my commute to the FB to be affected that much, since I get off well before the Maze and travel after the morning rush, but the afternoon will probably be affected as 880 is the only way anywhere until this gets repaired.
We live in an earthquake zone. I think CalTrans, the governator, and the legislators, as well as all the public transpo agencies, should think of this as a small rehearsal. There's been much made of the fact that if a major quake comes from the Hayward Fault (which runs through our neighborhood) it could break chunks of 80, 580, 880, and/or 980 freeways, any of which would affect the trip to or from the Bay Bridge, a major major artery in the miles of highways around here. They can observe and plan what to do, and hope that it doesn't happen.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Shake it up, baby, now
How many times have I talked to someone from the Midwest who says, "You're from California? What about those earthquakes? Aren't you scared?"?
I want to say, "Well, aren't YOU scared of tornadoes?"
We just had a 4.2 earthquake centered in Berkeley this evening (2140 PST). It jerked the house and rattled the rickety bookshelf where Zirpu keeps his Rubik's cube collection. Zirpu and I looked at each other, waiting to see if it was going to last long enough to get in the doorway.
I didn't really think about earthquakes that much until Katrina hit Mississippi and Louisiana and those awful pictures came out of New Orleans (maybe because I wasn't here for the 1989 earthquake, the one that postponed the World Series). After that, I thought, "That that could be us: Without the flooding, but with a lot more rubble." It didn't help that at the time I was working in a building that was described as "the tallest building on campus before the earthquake, and the longest afterward."
I became an evangelist for emergency preparedness. Like a lot of evangelists (or the famous ones anyway) I'm not as prepared for the emergency as some people, but I certainly preach the gospel, keeping a readiness list in my PDA to share like Chick Tracts. During Halloween of 2005 I handed out Smart & Finals' Readiness list along with bite-size Milky Ways. This is the list around which my friend who is a Neighborhood Emergency Response Team member and her household built their "earthquake box" (actually they have a shed), so we built ours around it too.
It occurs to me as I write this that I started hanging out in Vernonia, OR, about six months after it was flooded by the Nehalem River in 1996. At that time, the high water marks on the buildings, particularly the high school, were quite obvious. The house of friends floated off its foundation but not away, held in place by pipes. Another friend had a tree fall through her living room. But by the time I met them, only the water marks remained and I didn't really understand what they had been through. Until the flooding caused by Katrina.
The earthquake will happen, someday, and since we don't plan to leave (and live where there are tornadoes? You've got to be kidding!), we have to hedge ourselves against what happens afterwards. The frame of our house is bolted to the foundation and our Quake Box and water are easy to reach. A pair of boots, jeans, and a sweater live in the trunk of the car. I have "ICE" (in case of emergency) next to two out-of-area names in my cell phone and we keep our documents in a fire safe.
My NERT friend pointed out that the best way to help in an emergency is to not need help. I'm doing my best to not need help. I'd much rather be in a position to give it.
I want to say, "Well, aren't YOU scared of tornadoes?"
We just had a 4.2 earthquake centered in Berkeley this evening (2140 PST). It jerked the house and rattled the rickety bookshelf where Zirpu keeps his Rubik's cube collection. Zirpu and I looked at each other, waiting to see if it was going to last long enough to get in the doorway.
I didn't really think about earthquakes that much until Katrina hit Mississippi and Louisiana and those awful pictures came out of New Orleans (maybe because I wasn't here for the 1989 earthquake, the one that postponed the World Series). After that, I thought, "That that could be us: Without the flooding, but with a lot more rubble." It didn't help that at the time I was working in a building that was described as "the tallest building on campus before the earthquake, and the longest afterward."
I became an evangelist for emergency preparedness. Like a lot of evangelists (or the famous ones anyway) I'm not as prepared for the emergency as some people, but I certainly preach the gospel, keeping a readiness list in my PDA to share like Chick Tracts. During Halloween of 2005 I handed out Smart & Finals' Readiness list along with bite-size Milky Ways. This is the list around which my friend who is a Neighborhood Emergency Response Team member and her household built their "earthquake box" (actually they have a shed), so we built ours around it too.
It occurs to me as I write this that I started hanging out in Vernonia, OR, about six months after it was flooded by the Nehalem River in 1996. At that time, the high water marks on the buildings, particularly the high school, were quite obvious. The house of friends floated off its foundation but not away, held in place by pipes. Another friend had a tree fall through her living room. But by the time I met them, only the water marks remained and I didn't really understand what they had been through. Until the flooding caused by Katrina.
The earthquake will happen, someday, and since we don't plan to leave (and live where there are tornadoes? You've got to be kidding!), we have to hedge ourselves against what happens afterwards. The frame of our house is bolted to the foundation and our Quake Box and water are easy to reach. A pair of boots, jeans, and a sweater live in the trunk of the car. I have "ICE" (in case of emergency) next to two out-of-area names in my cell phone and we keep our documents in a fire safe.
My NERT friend pointed out that the best way to help in an emergency is to not need help. I'm doing my best to not need help. I'd much rather be in a position to give it.
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