This is a true story. I know, because I lived it.
"You can no more win a war than you can win an earthquake." - Jeannette Rankin
It's February, 1971. I'm working as a volunteer at Camarillo State Mental Hospital. I live upstairs in a two-story building. About a dozen other volunteers are housed here also.
Camarillo State Mental Hospital
By Stephen Schafer CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
My room is modestly furnished.
It contains a single rollaway bed and a chair. I also have a sink and mirror. It's Spartan, but livable.
I work with disturbed young men. We teach them how to work with wood. They learn to use hammers, saws, and power tools. The job is risky, but rewarding. I take meals with them in the youth dining hall.
Some days after work, I hike up into the hills. Others, I hang out with friends. Some evenings I clean houses, just to make ends meet. Life as an unpaid volunteer can be tough.
Last night, I'm not really sure what I did. I guess I'm still all shook up! Maybe Nick and I went to Denny's on my Honda. We drink ten-cent coffee there and talk for hours.
Maybe I took in a movie with the patients. We once watched "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest." Can you believe it? In a mental hospital? Another time, "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World."
It doesn't really matter. The point is, I'm sleeping alone in my own bed.
It's the morning of February 9th.
It's not quite 6:00 A.M. I'm in that odd, half-asleep, half-awake state. I've been having very troubling dreams. They say animals know when a quake is coming. Somehow, I sense that something is about to happen.Suddenly, my bed is rolling back and forth. Lifting my head, I see no-one else. Fully awake, I sit up. I pull on a pair of pants. Everything is still shaking.
I run down the hall. The whole building is rocking. It's light out; I head down the stairs. Holding the handrails, I manage not to fall. I run out the door onto the sidewalk.
Olive View Hospital's Fallen Stairways
U.S. Geological Survey Image Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons
The world will simply not hold still.
I look up and down the street. Lampposts are swaying like saplings in the wind. Morning twilight eeriness is compounded by the mad gyrations. I'm glad at least the building won't fall on me.
Finally, the crazy shaking stops. It seems like forever! Later, I learn it was only 12 seconds. More than long enough!
The Sylmar Earthquake of 1971 took 65 lives. Experiencing it changed mine.
FIN
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