All true Californians have felt earthquakes
There is no more relevant piece of breaking news to a Californian than an earthquake. Even an earthquake in another country is of great interest to us — because we know that we could be next. We probably will be next. Every single seismologist in their weathered canvas jumpsuit and awkward camera presence assures us that a big one is coming. It’s coming for sure.
The recent and rather large earthquakes in Southern California are a bit too close for comfort. Yet, at the same time, I’m a little envious. I regard Bay Areans as really good at handling earthquakes. If someone (or somewhere) is going to endure a quake with a sense of grace and community, it’ll be us. Earthquakes are kind of our thing. Cable cars, RiceaRoni, the internet, sidewalk poop and earthquakes — that’s us.
Still, I’ve been following the aftermath of the (thankfully fatalityfree) Southern California earthquakes and am surprised at the number of locals for whom this series of quakes was a first. There is no more official rite of California passage than the feeling of a rolling, rising, rumbling earthquake. Even firsttimers know what’s happening almost instantly. Earthquakes, ones that are big enough to stop you in your tracks, are profound experiences.
Seasoned Californians, those of us for whom the rumble is familiar, respond to mediumsize earthquakes in different ways. For example, we all know the guy who authoritatively announces a Richter scale guess the second the shaking stops. I’m married to one of those guys. “That was a 5.2,” he will state as fact. OK, pal. Sure. There is no skill in this. Guessing the size of an earthquake is pretty easy. Here’s my basic rule of thumb: You can feel anything over a 5.0. Stuff starts to fall off shelves over a 6.0. And if you find yourself midprayer underneath the nearest table, that’s a 7.0.
Other folks hop over to Twitter to post, “Earthquake!” I am one of those people. Twitter is the hot spot for a collective and clever response to a midlevel earthquake. Social media is also the ideal place to find photos of broken bottles in liquor stores, which is de rigueur in earthquake reportage. Anytime there’s an quake big enough to shake a chandelier, a dozen local news directors are sending reporters to liquor stores.
Then there are those who respond to earthquakes by telling their “Big One” story. My father has a whole thrilling saga surrounding his experience during and after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. Even better, his grandfather was a 16yearold Italian immigrant standing on Market Street during the 1906 earthquake, so my dad’s “Big One” story spans two earthquakes and three generations. He should turn it into a “This American Life” episode, my dad is so practiced at regaling us with his earthquake experiences.
Finally, there are the people who unnecessarily mark themselves “safe” on Facebook following a 3.7 earthquake 80 miles away. This social media feature that allows users to assure friends and family that they’ve survived a nearby tragedy is no doubt helpful, but like everything on Facebook, it’s subject to fake news.
All of this levity is moot, however, when the “Big One” really hits. There’s a 72% chance of a large and destructive earthquake striking the Bay Area sometime within the next 24 years, according to the U.S. Geological Survey. Southern California’s multiple earthquakes can serve as a reminder to rethink our plans for the inevitable.
My situation includes variables I didn’t consider when I tossed (and promptly forgot) a generic Red Cross “Go Bag” in my bedroom closet. I now have both a spouse on crutches and a baby with a food allergy. I should update our survival kit with hypoallergenic formula and drugs. I might as well toss in diapers and the fashion forward prescription glasses I’ve never felt confident enough to pull off. There are lots of great “Go Bag” checklists available online, and I hope you’ll join me in checking out a few.
When I worked for a local news station’s website, we halfjoked that the most highly trafficked breaking news stories were always earthquakes and mountain lion sightings. Both speak to our need to prepare for something so scary yet so everyday to where we live. Hang out in the Bay Area long enough and you’ll likely feel an earthquake. As for a mountain lion sighting, I remain a rookie. Although assuming I survived one, it’d make for one hell of a column.
There is no more official rite of California passage than the feeling of a rolling, rising, rumbling earthquake.