We woke up this morning to news of a large earthquake in northern California. It seemed that the second sentence of every news report was something like this: "This is the largest earthquake to hit the Bay Area since the 1989 Loma Prieta quake."
Even as I prayed for my California friends this morning, my mind raced back to October 17, 1989.
This morning's earthquake was a 6.0, and it was centered near American Canyon. It appears that the most extensive damage is in Napa. The 1989 was a 6.9, and it was centered in a remote area in the Santa Cruz mountains. The ratings and the epicenters matter to seismologists, of course, but a shaking world isn't completely limited to certain areas. When the ground moves, it can move all over the place - regardless of where it starts. And in my experience, there's nothing quite like the shaking of an earthquake to get your attention.
The Loma Prieta earthquake hit at 5:04 p.m. That was the famous "World Series" quake. The entire Bay Area was focused on Candlestick Park where the A's were about to take on the Giants. Suddenly, the World Series took second place to a strong quake. I was at the San Francisco airport when it happened. Built on landfill, the airport became a giant bowl of jello. To this day, I can't quite describe the unsettledness of watching concrete crumble and steel bend. And the floor moved so dramatically that some people couldn't stand.
I was waiting to catch a plane for a writers' conference in Alabama. At the time of quake, however, incoming flights were immediately diverted to other airports and outgoing flights were simply cancelled. Every one in the airport was herded outside onto the freeway. The image of thousands of people milling around the freeway was a sight to behold.
Eventually, I caught a ride back to Marin. Traveling north through the city and across the Golden Gate Bridge made me think of the scene of the burning city of Atlanta in Gone with the Wind. Power was out in many places, and the fires burning in the Marina district glowed an eerie red in the sky.
I was let off at a freeway stop near my home, and I walked several miles to our apartment. Somehow - amazingly - at the instant of the quake, I had rushed to a pay phone in the airport. (This was long before the days of cell phones.) I made a collect call to Julie. And just before the telephone lines went dead, we had a brief conversation. It went something like this: "Are you okay?" "Yes, are you?" "Yes." And that was that. I still have the telephone bill that lists the charges for that 5:04 p.m. call - one of the coolest keepsakes that I have in my possession.
Power was out for the next few days, so the images that the world was watching on television were unseen to us. It was only later that we finally saw pictures of the damage, and began to absorb the full extent of what had happened. And it was many nights later when we were calm enough to sleep restfully again.
I wouldn't wish an earthquake on anybody.
All the same, I think it's probably good for us to have our foundations shaken from time to time. Maybe not in a literal sense, but surely in a spiritual sense. We often count on things that aren't all that trustworthy. And a good shaking makes things clear. I still haven't quite gotten over what happened to the Bay Bridge in the 1989 quake. Things that I held to be permanent and lasting were revealed to be rather weak and transient. And I was forced to rethink my whole view of life.
There are, in fact, foundations that are trustworthy and true - and a good shaking can be terribly clarifying.
Earthquakes - seismic and spiritual - help us figure out what is lasting and true. And as painful as earthquakes can be, it's good to be reminded of that.