A first-hand account of Napa’s 6.0 quake
(Fides Enriquez produced the documentary “Harana” along with her husband, Florante Aguilar, who is the featured haranista in the film. They moved to Napa less than a year ago. – INQUIRER.net US Bureau.)
NAPA, California –The quake shakes the bejesus out of us at 3:20 a.m. on Sunday, August 24. It’s a classic earthquake–the low rumble as the house began to shake, the intensifying, deafening cacophony of crashing, violent thundering, rattle and roll.
All we can do is hold on to each other as we lie in bed, our little Frida in the middle. I’m not sure what will come first–will the ceiling fall on us? Or will the floor turn to powder and we come crashing down? I’m screaming, “F—! S—! Close your eyes, baby!”
And I cover Frida as best I can. F holds us tightly. Seems like a long time as we helplessly wait for what comes next. Then the shaking stops. Flashes of red and yellow spark and pop outside the window. The power is out. Complete blackness. Our house alarm is blaring. My heart is about to jump out of my chest.
By the light of my iPhone we go downstairs where we instantly step on broken glass on the wet floor. Where’s that emergency/camping lamp? In the mudroom. Can barely open the door–broken glass everywhere. My god! The kitchen is a wreck. The fridge and stove are practically in the middle of the room.
They say to keep your wits about you during these times. I can’t find my wits, all I can hear is my heart in my ears. And what is that noise? We find the lamp. And, of course, we lost the iPhone.
Article continues after this advertisementIt’s the only working phone because F didn’t charge his before going to bed. Where’s the phone? I thought you had it. I’m holding the baby. I thought you had it. I’m holding the lamp. I thought I gave it to you.
Article continues after this advertisementWe see people outside. We hurriedly put on shoes, some clothes and go out into the cold dark. I look up–so many stars. I can finally see them all. Gorgeous! I’d love to just stare at the infinite grandeur of space. Except I can’t because I’m shaking all over and my nerves seem to be doing the walking for me.
We talk to the neighbors–nervous laughs all around as we each ask how everyone is. “Hello neighbor!” “Nice to finally meet you!” “Are you guys OK?” “That was quite a quake!” “We shut the gas in our house, there was gas leaking. We could smell it.” F and I look at each other. “Did we smell gas in our house?” He asks me.
“I don’t know,” I say. “All I could smell was peanut butter spilled all over the floor.”
Nothing like a 6.0 earthquake to bring everyone together. Classic, too! Right? With the help of a neighbor we shut our gas valve, just in case. When the sun rises, we will assess the damage.