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| Interstate 5 as you enter Santa Clarita. I lived a 1/4 of a mile from this. |
It's hard to believe it's been a quarter of a century.
Indeed, with the state the world and our country is in, it may even seem-dare I say-insignificant now.
But not to me.
To me, this day will always be remembered in my world, as the day when the entire history of my family experienced an unalterable course correction.
Today, is in fact the 25th Anniversary of the Northridge Quake. To those that were in Southern California at the time, I'm sure you would agree that the rude awakening we all received at 4:31 AM is one we will never forget.
I was a senior at William S. Hart High School. The Winter Formal was in a week and I was still without a date. I remember I had been pondering asking Loni Anderson. Finals would soon follow and the beginning of my final semester was at hand. Our show choir 'Sound Vibes' was about to begin our competition season and I was excited because I was the back up solo for Billy Joel's 'River of Dreams'. In the future was our spring play production--the last opportunity I would have to appear on stage in high school, Prom, and finally my graduation. It all seemed like it was happening as planned, but life, had a different plan....
I remember waking up suddenly (and miraculously) seconds before the quake struck. When it hit, everything moved as if it were made of balsa wood. I can still hear the sound of the earth cracking open, it was almost like a bullwhip had been cracked through the largest megaphone ever created.
Then there was the getting to a safe place.
In the split second after it started I tried to leap from bed to get to the doorway, but found myself immediately pressed to the floor crawling instead, praying my giant glass closet doors would stay strong. Books, tapes (yes we still had them then...), and CD's were whirling around me. I pulled myself into the doorway and the shaking continued for what felt like minutes, but really it all happened in 22 seconds. Then...
Blackness. Utter darkness. Then the sound of my parents voices checking to see if my sister & I were alive. We all scrambled around as quickly as we could finding whatever shoes we could find and headed to the stairway we hoped was still there.
We were all relieved to see that it still was.
As we made our way outside, we quickly surmised the amount of damage in our home-to say the least it was bad. Later we would find out that the kitchen floor had actually opened up about a 1/4 in. and the crack ran the length of the foundation. Once outside, we saw everyone was also making their way into the streets. It was cold that night, only about 44 degrees as I recall. But especially in boxers, a t-shirt and my Dad's long, out of style, black wool coat. I remember walking to the edge of our street with my sister, where I knew we could see a slice of the Santa Clarita Valley. Once peppered with the lights of neighborhoods, the view of the valley was dark and only lit by the glow of small fires and explosions from gas lines erupting.
It was almost apocalyptic.
The days and months-even years-that followed were tumultuous. Most of the things that were supposed to happen, happened-but very differently from how we would have all imagined them.
On the upside-our finals were canceled (truly excellent). In our show choir we used the quake as an opportunity to perform a parody of 'All Shook Up' during our competition season. Still, one of the key reasons I believe we were eventually selected to be in the Showstoppers Competition at Disneyland in the spring.
On the down side-everything else. Our Winter Formal, and indeed, a whole different life, now only exists in some alternate universe where the quake didn't occur (as does the opportunity to take Loni Anderson). Our spring play production, because of catastrophic damage to our auditorium, took place in the back yard of a student. And finally, there was my graduation. Rather than at the stately College of the Canyons stadium, it was held at the, sometimes-a-Swap Meet, Saugus Speedway-fitting as I never have done things the usual way.
In the years that followed, my family was forced to fight with the insurance company (if you think you're 'in good hands', you're not...) just to attempt to get the repairs necessary. They finally settled in December 2001. We were forced to give up the home my parents had thought they would be paying off around now.
I fully realize, our situation is minute compared to those that are still suffering in Haiti or those who had to endure tragedies like Katrina or the tsunami. However, this event was pivotal to everything myself and my family have experienced since.
And, if I may say, it feels as though we are long overdue for another little shake up and it is therefore important to remember these things. As Merlin said in the film 'Excalibur':
"Remember! Never forget. For it is the doom of men that they forget."

4 comments:
Thank you for writing this Jason. I was oh, so mindful of the significance of yesterday's anniversary. We shared very similar experiences. Can't believe its been 17 years, but in some ways it feels longer, although the sounds and smells and sights are still fresh...Take care!
Shawna
I will never forget. It will stay with me forever.
Laurie
I didn't forget. I remember thinking that my stepdad was waking me up at the ungodly hour of 4:31 for some unfathomable reason (he had a habbit of shaking my bed to wake me), but as I looked at the clock, the power went out.
My house didn't fall, but the foundation crumbled and shifted, pulling away from the addition my dad built when I was a baby, and the only thing that kept my kitchen together was the super reinforced cabinets he'd built into the walls.
I was in 8th grade. To me, it was a big adventure. It was the last day of winter break, and suddenly winter break was extended by two months. We camped out in the backyard until we found a close apartment to rent. I had to change schools because my local one wasn't going to be repaired possibly until summer. I went to the local high school, which had been set up as a safe zone for people who'd lost their homes, and I helped pass out food and water.
We didn't get to move back into our house for at least a year. I spent my 14th birthday painting my room, and nothing was done to celebrate it until I complained to my stepbrother, then he surprised me with a cake and a gathering in the backyard.
Wow, 17 years... over half my life ago.
Thanks for sharing,
Becky
You are right, Jason. Events such as the 1994 Northridge Earthquake certainly can change the course of our lives in an instant. How many times do those experiencing an event like this replay the "if only" game again and again? The key for me is that we don't let events define us. Learn from the events - yes, if you can. Use your experience with the event to help others - absolutely. But if we allow the event defines us, in anyway, then we become victims. With victimhood any intrinsic value to the event is lost, along with possible personal growth.
This is a great post, son. Clearly, you have incorporated the ‘94 earthquake into your life without letting it define you.
(But, it is too bad the Loni Anderson thing never worked out.)
Daddy-O
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