I woke up this morning right about 4:30 - a minute shy of the anniversary of the Northridge quake. I live about five miles from where I did on that day. When the quake hit, I truly thought we were done for.

I remember grabbing one the kids just as a giant crate went flying out of the closet, missing her head by inches. I swear I could hear the studs in the walls "slapping" against each other, or something.

A couple of us drove through Old Town Newhall (California) to see what happened. Not knowing exactly what went on, my first thought was that the place had been prepped as a movie set. The destruction consisted of buildings trust to the side and plate glass windows shattered into the street.

Little did we know, but just over the hill in Glendale, the mall was already being looted by gang members. This same thing was happening in Sherman Oaks.

It was so incredibly dark that morning. There was no moon. With the aftershocks, the earth just seemed to keep rolling.

I recently found some new negatives that I shot at the time. I'll get around to posting them when I have a chance to scan them.

Tony