I was seven, all of four months in CA when the '89 quake hit. I remember running out of the daycare center with the ground moving under my feet and getting all the way across the blacktop to dig my fingers into the field before realizing that it had stopped. I remember that almost nothing happened at our house, because we'd barely started unpacking. Mostly, though, I remember how orderly the drive home was. I've never seen Californians on a highway drive so considerately--it was like everyone wanted to make sure everyone else got home safe.

This was a lovely story--thanks for writing it.