The Lens:
We were living in San Bruno when, one night at dinner, the ground began to tremble accompanied by a growing roar. We were having an early dinner so we could get to my son’s back-to-school night. Instead we ended up evacuating our home.
Being native San Franciscans, we are used to the feel and sound of earthquakes. We can usually hear the ones coming from the San Andreas – a loud rumble, and an ominous few seconds before it hits. The East Bay quakes usually strike without warning. Sometimes quakes are a sharp jolt (more often from the San Andreas), other times, intense rocking (mostly East Bay). Always heart stopping, even if just for a moment.
On this night, my first thought was earthquake, but my mind just as quickly ruled that out. I was in downtown San Francisco when Loma Prieta struck. It was loud and violent. The volume of the roar on this night was terrifying and far exceeded the intensity of the movement. This sound should have been accompanied by a knock-you-off-your-feet quake. The floor was trembling forcefully, but it wasn’t shaking.
When the roar and trembling stopped, we could see smoke rising from the other side of the hill behind our house. We lived near the airport and my first thought was a plane had gone down. I’ve been behind a 747 when it fires up its engines and the roar certainly could compare. I called my brother-in-law, who was with the SFPD airport division at that time. He was home but I hoped he could check out what had happened.
He made a quick call, and reported back there were no reports of a plane going down. As we were talking, the news of the incident was coming on air. A massive fireball could be seen on the live coverage. My brother-in-law, also seeing the broadcast, said: Something is fueling that fire. That is not a crash.
There were conflicting reports as to what had happened. My husband took a ride up the hill to see what was happening. He came back to report the unbelievable torrent of fire. We were gripped to the news. If the fire spread over the hill, we would be in serious danger.
It was when the electricity went out that we decided to evacuate. If indeed the fire came over the hill, we didn’t want to get caught in a very likely traffic jam trying to get out. Many others had the same idea. We got out but it was slow going until we were clear of the area.
We would learn later that a PG&E gas pipeline had exploded and our neighborhood had come under voluntary evacuation.
The Refraction:
These last few years, living in Northern California has been to live with fire. These fires can move quickly and evacuations can be an immediate necessity with getting out alive the goal. When we decided to leave after the explosion, we had to make some decisions as to what to take. We were fortunate we had some time to think. We could lose everything. What did we want to save? We packed the cars and left.
We ended up at my father-in-law’s house. We hadn’t been there long when our phones started to ring. The explosion and fire were all over the news. Family and friends were calling to see if we were ok. By 10:30pm or so, it looked like the fire was under control and it would be safe to go home. We did so warily. We kept the cars loaded in the event things got out of control and we needed to make a quick exit.
This was a horrible event. People were killed. They had no chance to get out. It was a topic of conversation for quite some time. When we talked with family and friends, and our evacuation came up, there was one question that was consistently asked: What did you take?
What did you take? Think about that question. What did you take? This year, the fires in Northern California have been treacherous. My husband’s stepsister had to evacuate her home due to an approaching fire. We had other family who were not immediately threatened by a different fire but could have been if the winds changed. They had bags packed just in case.
During a conversation with my husband, we remembered our own evacuation and what we took. He made an interesting comment: what you take is based on what you value. It wasn’t something I had considered. I would have guessed most people would take the same things with a few variations. But, he was so right. What you take is based on what you value.
We are back living in San Francisco now. The chances we would have a fire roar through San Francisco are minimal. But, I would have thought the same of San Bruno. You just never know. Because of our experience, I have a good idea of what I would grab, time permitting, if we had to evacuate again. Maybe you should consider what it is you would take – the time to evacuate is not the time to make those decisions. Then, after you do, think about why these things are important to you. It might be an interesting window into who you are and what you value.
Epilogue:
I am truly dating myself here, but I used to watch “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” In one episode, her apartment building catches fire. Mary’s friend, Rhoda, is telling her to get out. Mary runs back and forth, panicked: “I don’t know what to take.” Rhoda says, equally panicked: “You take yourself and you don’t ask questions.” Mary, still running around, “But Rhoda, it’s everything I own.” Rhoda pleads: “Please.” Mary grabs a potted plant, a large “M” she has hanging on the wall, and tearfully runs out the door. It was a comedy sketch, very funny. But, in life, it isn’t funny.
What did we take? As I said, we had some time to think, a luxury many people don’t get. Here is how our thinking went.
We had 3 cars (my husband’s work truck; the family car; a Miata) and a motorcycle. Our youngest son was still living at home and a newly licensed driver. We could take all three cars and leave the motorcycle behind. We nixed that idea. I was worried my son would be scared driving by himself under such stressful conditions. We decided to leave the Miata behind.
Obviously, the cat would come. We would need his carrycase, food, cat litter.
Clothes: we grabbed the dirty laundry hampers. They were full and had the variety of clothes we would need (shirts, pants, underwear, socks, etc).
Next came photos. I grabbed what photo albums were easily accessible, photos on CD, and a precious framed picture of my mom when she was a toddler.
Jewelry: I grabbed my jewelry box. I don’t really have expensive jewelry. Most if it, though, has great sentimental value.
My iPod. I guess because it was easy.
As we were getting ready to leave, my husband, a general contractor, looked back at the house. “My whole business is here,” he said. We went back in and grabbed some of his tools. We were still using desktops at that time. He grabbed his computer tower, which made me think to take mine. We grabbed flashlights, our small safe with important documents (like birth certificates). My husband, also a musician, grabbed his favorite guitar.
The last thing my husband said as we got in our cars to leave: “I wonder what our fire insurance is like.”