Putting the earthquake into perspective, it’s a little amazing — if something can be “a little” amazing — that Mexicali, Calexico, etc., did not fall to the ground and that there isn’t more damage here in SD.
I mean, some statistics here:
The “World Series” earthquake in ’89 was 6.9 63 killed, over 3,700 injured.
The Northridge earthquake in ’94 was 6.7. 72 killed, over 8,700 injured.
The Haiti earthquake three months ago was 7.0 Something like 100,000 to 200,000 dead?
Yesterday’s was 7.2. If I’m understanding my Richter scale correctly — which I’m probably not — that’s 2 times stronger than the Haiti earthquake. Each single number you increase on the scale, for instance from 5.0 to 6.0, is an increase of 10 times in strength. So 7.2 is two times greater in strength than 7.0. Boggles my mind a bit. Thank GOD for good ol’ US infrastructure.
How does it feel, (Gradual Dazzle asked)? Uh, scary. This is the worst quake I’ve ever felt in my life and I grew up in CA. It feels as if the very earth is betraying you, I guess, and there’s nothing you can do to make it behave. What you take for granted every moment of your life as something solid and sure beneath you actually is not. You’re standing still one moment; the next you are simply not able to stand. You’re desperate to find something to grab onto that won’t break free or fall onto you. The world is one of those crazy tipsy funhouses — just randomly, out of the blue. And it’s loud, too. Or louder than you might think. (I was inside my parents’ house when it hit, standing at the kitchen counter. Some of my family was outside in the yard.) Inside, you hear the house groaning and creaking and shaking. It’s as if you hear and feel the distress of the house itself. In less than 60 seconds, its vulnerabilities are exposed, things you never knew before, things you might wish you didn’t know now. Outside, in the open, it feels like the earth is some angry child acting out. Mid-quake, I rushed outside to MB and just felt naked — as if I was at the mercy of this capricious monster rising from the earth. Inside felt safer somehow, familiar. I know my old hiding places, my safe spots. I felt almost guilty leaving our beloved family house alone to fend for itself. For me, the impulse to HIDE in that moment was almost unbearable, but where can you flee from an angry earth?
(Oh! And HUGE jolt just now as I’m writing this, an aftershock that felt like …. hm …. like the earth just clocked you with a nasty uppercut. Wow. Calm down, earth, okay? I promise I’ll do a better job of recycling. Yamahama! That was short just now, but fierce. I just came out of my seat. My heart’s pounding a bit.)
I hope the earth is as still as stone where you are.
I can’t even imagine it. I’m used to nature having tantrums above the ground – hurricanes, blizzards, and now this flood, but not beneath my feet. Thank you for describing it, Tracey. And again, I’m extremely glad you’re all okay.
Yeah, we pretty much just sit still around North TX… although my ancient 2-story farmhouse tips crazily to the north, and if we ever DID get anything remotely like what you just got, my kitchen sink would probably skitter through the back door of the Valley View City Hall.
Thanks for the description. I’ve always wanted someone to tell me what it’s like, and that’s the first time I really “got it.” Or at least came close to it. I probably won’t ever “get it” unless I’m in one someday.
God forbid.
/I rushed outside to MB and just felt naked/ good thing you weren’t really naked, the neighbor might have scolded you for not wearing the appropriate earthquake attire.
What Jane said. It’s a different thing having something come at you rather than undermine you. For all that horror, your description of it is amazing. Almost beautifully so, if that makes sense.
I don’t want to California bash, but I really fear earthquakes and it’s one of the reasons I’ve never seriously considered any of the positions available out there for which I’ve qualified. I fell in love with San Diego when I was out there last year, though. I will be back!
Terrifying. I can’t imagine it either.
// In less than 60 seconds, its vulnerabilities are exposed //
**shivers**
Brian — Hahahahahaha. Yes, she would have! “YOU ARE NOT APPROPRIATELY DRESSED FOR THIS EARTHQUAKE!!! AAAHHHH!!!”
Jayne — See, what you guys went through last week is something I can’t imagine. Isn’t it odd, almost, that we can live in the same country and certain weather or, uh, seismologic events can be totally foreign to us?
GraD — You know, there’s an Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland that, frankly, comes pretty close to that earthquaky feeling. Although, I had more faith that would turn out well in that end. As in, I assumed I wouldn’t die.
Cullen — Yeah, just don’t come now. Lots of aftershocks. And, of course, you get all the science nerds saying, “OH NO!! This quake has awakened the GIANT!! It will trigger other faults to quakee!!” Etc., etc. Maybe, but you can’t live your life thinking that way.
I actually think if we’d been in our condo when the quake hit instead of further east at my parents’, we might NOT have felt it as strongly. We were closer to the epicenter by being out there.
I’m so glad you and your family are OK. Like my buddy GraD, earthquakes are totally foreign to me. I’m glad you answered her question – It was the best description I’ve read.
A shaking house. That is just so alarming. I remember being awakened as a kid one morning by a tiny tremor (centered closer to New Jersey or Delaware, I think), but I could not imagine that intensified to the magnitudes you’re talking about. Wow.
A friend of the family who moved out to L.A. for college was totally traumatized by Northridge. Sleeping in her car for weeks. I can’t imagine that feeling, either. (She’s O.K. now.)