Sylmar, 2/9/1971. On the 13th floor of my dorm at UCLA. After that, I became very fearful and probably suffered from PTSD to some degree. I had to drop out of school temporarily, I was such a mess. A jet overhead, a sonic boom, a low rumbling truck ... all would have my heart in my throat. I couldn't sleep or focus on anything but fear.

I ran from it. Moved east for five years until I realized it wasn't the EQ that terrified me, but my sense of being out of control. I was living in tornado alley, and those babies are no fun either.

So back I came, this time to face my fears through education. That's what I'm still doing. The more I learn about earthquakes, the less Petra-fied I become. (Sorry. Couldn't resist the pun.)

Fortunately, I missed Loma Prieta even though our house was six miles from the epicenter. That morning the spouse and I had boarded a jet to NYC. But do you hear me complaining? Nooooo! I still don't want to live through anything bigger than a six.

Cathryn