Yo, J Diddy,

Now this is getting a little weird. The first house I lived in was on Mulholland Terr., just 300 feet west of the intersection with Laurel Canyon. (Coming from the Valley, you would hit that intersection, take a right, then another immediately, and start climbing.

If memory serves me correctly, UES Seeds was UCLA's on-campus elementary school. It was in its infancy sometime while I was there, which was a decade: 1969-1979. I skipped ninth grade, and so was a 17 year-old freshman, living at Weyburn Hall (now an old folks home) enjoying my first stab at adulthood.

I was on the 13th floor of that dorm when I got to ride out all 59 minutes of the Sylmar EQ. The dorm had--oh dear, how to describe it--these slip/slide walls that would expand and contract with each wave, securing the building by letting it give, but making the ride on the 13th floor horrifying.

This EQ happened the morning after a blue moon. I know what a blue moon is, but the weird thing was that the atmosphere in the village the night before the EQ was definitely "bluish." (Funny, you don't look bluish.) But the full moon did. Others have said they noticed that as well.

Alas, here's where we will undoubtedly part ideologies:

From about 8 pm the previous evening, I knew an EQ was coming. A big one. Soon.

I was terrified of earthquakes, after feeling a piddly 3.0 when we lived on the beach in Malibu. With the surf pounding against our piers, it was amazing I felt the earth move at all, but I did. I was 14, the tide must have been low, and when my bed shook, I just wigged out. And in that moment, earthquakes became my BIG anxiety.

So when the 6.6 (.5?) hit Sylmar, I was just gone. I'd panic with each aftershock and finally had to drop out of school that quarter and head N. with an old "boyfriend." He's in quotes because I never so much as let him kiss me; he just wasn't my type. And ... he smoked. Blech.

He died two years ago of heart disease, but what is so bizarre is that he was living just a few miles from where we have lived for 19 years, and we never once crossed paths.

But back to Feb. 9, 1971. Could not sleep. Roamed the lobby, the rec room, raided the kitchen with keys from an ex-boyfriend who worked in food service (Hey, do I know class when I see it?), played Hearts with some med students--anything to take my mind off the BIG earthquake that was about to hit L.A before sunrise.

I told everyone I crossed paths with. "There's a big earthquake about to hit L.A.tonight."

"Yeah, and I bonked Barbi Benton." (Actually, she was Barbara Klein the year before I arrived, but you know show biz). She lived at Weyburn, and oh, the stories I heard when Hugh would drop her off in his limo after visiting hours were technically over.

But back to premonitions. I got chided, big time. L.A. hadn't had a sizable EQ since the Tehachapi (sp?) in '53 when I was only one. My dad told me he held me in his arms in the hallway of that house on Mulholland Terrace and we rode it out. I have no memory of it.

02:09:71 05:45 (There. I threw some numbers in just to make you happy.) Exhausted, I finally drop off to sleep in my bed by the window. 06:01 (?) I hear a rumble. I know exactly what it is, and I am paralyzed with fear. The first jolt throws me out of bed. Electric wires are arcing outside my window, so I crawl across the floor in nothing but my undies and hold onto the doorknob for dear life thinking, this would make a really funny scene in a movie.

Do you have any idea how long 59 seconds can seem? Alarms are sounding all over the building, as if any amount of pot, magic mushrooms, gin, or whatever your drug of choice was back then could render you unconscious during THIS.

We are ordered to evacuate. I grab a robe, some slippers, and make for the stairwell. It's a slow procession down, interrupted, I believe, by a fairly good aftershock that had us clinging to the rails for dear life.

Once on the street (police keeping us away from downed wires), the people whose paths I'd crossed the night before and during the wee hours just looked at me with this ghostly/ghastly stare. I don't know if they were more afraid of the EQ or me. Not many of them ever ate at my table again.

SO, Sweet John, Baby Blue Shirt, how did I KNOW? And I did know. No one could talk me out of my stance. I was adamant. I just knew, but had no basis on which to predict it. So can you, or anyone else here, please tell me HOW I knew?

As you can imagine, this has haunted me for years. It is not the only paranormal experience I have had, but they have had nothing to do with earthquakes, and so should probably be taken off list.

C. Lo

calpert@alpert.com