We had moved to California from Champaign, Illinois December 1967. Paul was in the UC Irvine marine biology program working on his doctorate. In April, 1968 I was in our Costa Mesa upstairs bathroom at the sink, and felt the swaying. The medicine cabinet door kept swinging open, and I, thinking it was my brain sort of messed up since I'd just had our 2nd baby, kept putting everything falling out back into the cabinet and closing the door! How's that for mental incongruence, or stupidity?! I heard Paul calling my name: "Sherry, are you ok? We're having an earthquake."
My own quaking came from realizing there is nowhere to go in a quake. During tornados we went to the basement. but where is there safety in an earthquake?
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