There was an earthquake tonight. Luckily I was at home having dinner after putting the op-ed page to bed.
The kids and I did not really feel it; we were so engrossed over dinner, I suppose. I cooked beef steak for them but had soup and saging na saba, myself.
When I went back online,social media sites were abuzz with the tremor that was. Apparently in some places, the shaking was strong -- and prolonged.
I remember 1990, July 16. I was 14 and a high school sophomore. We had just finished mass and the induction of class and club officers. I took pride in being Features Editor of The Gracean Envoy. Wewere in white --our gala uniform.
Pictures were being taken, I think, when the ground shook and everybody realized what was happening. We were at the top (4th) floor of the high school building and I was standing beside a friend, a junior colleague, who promptly started crying and calling out: "Mommy...mommy!"
I did not cry and did not call anybody's name,but I was terrified. We made a dash for the stairs and to the open field. I remember coming home to a very worried Lola. Remember, there were no cell phones, no pagers in those days. If you want to know how your kid was doing, you wait for her to come home.
Television footages later showed us that some areas like Baguio City had it worse; buildings collapsed and people were crushed to death
I must have told that story over and over to the kids. I am worried that when It happens and we are all out (them in school, me somewhere else), we would all be worried sick about each other.
It's good there were no casualties and damages. And that no tsunami warnings were released. I can imagine, however, how it must feel to live on the beach.
Sometimes, when you really think about it, no place is really safe. And then you realize it must have been this way, in cycles, for hundreds of thousands and millions of years. And you're just...a speck.