I was in San Francisco during the Loma Prieta earthquake in 1989, and there are few experiences in my life I remember more vividly or with such savor. The actual shaking was said to have lasted about ten seconds, of which I spent the first two in a state of confused paralysis, and the next eight with a clarity of thought and perception which I hope I can experience again just once before I die.
Just from the way I could feel its structural supports as they jarred and slammed into one another, I'm confident I could draw a perfectly accurate sketch of where they lay between the walls and floors of the house, down to the basement. I could feel the direction the seismic waves were flowing along; I was connected to the earth's crust as if it were part of my skeleton. I knew the shaking would be enough to set off car alarms, and a moment later I could hear them starting, all over the neighborhood. Even though the lights weren't on, I could feel it through my hair, almost like the sensation of a hat blowing off, when the power cut out all over the city. I knew I would be safe where I was; the house could take it.
Anyway, the power stayed out for the next day and change. That night, there were parties by candlelight all over the city - in the streets, in homes, in businesses. The spirit of camaraderie, the urgent need to hear and tell stories, the thrill of having a single, big experience common to everyone, was overwhelming. Wealthy and poor, cop and criminal, dog and cat: everyone was your best friend that night, drinks were on the house, drugs were legal, all was forgiven. I will always love and cherish San Francisco for that.
Since then I've become a little bit of a disaster junkie. Y2K was a letdown, and I wouldn't want anything quite so horrific as, say, a giant meteor impact, or as drawn-out as global warming, but part of me, I have to confess, wanted to be there for the tsunami and Katrina; part of me perks up when I read about a new outbreak of bird flu or a fresh sign of peak oil. I can't help it. The lining of some of those clouds is of a silver so pure you would frame your world in it.
