AN IMPORTANT DAY Anthony J. Buettner
The air was particularly heavy on that day in mid October. After a long, hot drive home from working in San Francisco, I pulled into the driveway of my home in the Santa Cruz mountains. I parked my truck and, greeted by my dogs, walked across the yard towards the front door. My wife met me at the door, baby in arms, with a cold beer and a hug. I kissed her and my three month old baby, and we chatted about the day’s events. I decided to take advantage of my free time before dinner and returned to the driveway to reorganize the tools left in the back of my truck. I noticed that the forest seemed too quiet. I stopped, looked around, and noticing nothing unusual, proceeded with my task. After a few minutes a low rumble caught my attention and I looked toward the sky expecting to see a jetliner on the way to San Jose but none was there. The low rumble increased with rapid volume and a reverberation began to shake me to the bone. I looked around desperately trying to find its source. I noticed my truck jumping up and down...up and down, in front of me. I turned to see the house twisting and shaking with rhythmic intensity. The noise amplified as I stumbled into the yard and grabbed my dogs to keep them from darting in their confusion. Standing crouched like a Sumo wrestler, I held the dogs and watched my house twist and shake, mesmerized by the power of this noise. A scream from inside the house snapped me out of my trance. I dropped the dogs and rushed inside to see glass and dishware being thrown to the floor as if a pissed off poltergeist was paying us a visit. I called for Phillis over the deafening noise and heard her crying under the kitchen table. Fighting the movements of the house, I made my way across the trashed floor and crawled under the table with her. I grabbed her locked arm and tried to convince her that we must leave the house but, frozen with fear, she was determined to stay. I tried to work the baby from her grasp but she held on with desperation. I could do nothing but shelter her and Chelsea from the onslaught of glass and porcelain exploding on the kitchen floor.
The shaking subsided and I coaxed Phillis, with child, from her protective spot. I ushered them outside, set them in the yard and began an assessment of the damage done by this unseen force. I didn’t know it at the time but we had just witnessed one of the most powerful earthquakes to ever hit northern California in recorded history. The Loma Prieta Earthquake of 1989.
My life changed that day. Within fifteen seconds I realized what was important to me and why.
I can fix the house and replace the broken dishes. What I cannot replace remains safe with me in the front yard.
A very important day in my life, indeed.