journaling challenge - week of 9/6

I remember vividly the day of the Ash Wednesday Earthquake, a 6.8 on the Richtor scale that shook Seattle and frightened many on February 28th, 2001. It was my first "big" quake, having only experienced a 3.0 a few years earlier. I was at work, wearing my cute new white-polka-dotted red rayon skirt and a white v-neck, sleeveless sweater. My hair was pulled back to the crown of my head. This was different from normal. I was dressed up, for no reason, other than feeling girly.

There was construction happening in the parking lot below our 8 story building, which sat on the very edge of Lake Union, so when the shaking began as a slight vibration, I assumed it was only a result of the work on the ground.

But the vibration turned to a shaking, somewhat violently, and the building swayed back and forth. One of our owners knew right away and yelled from her office "It's an earthquake - get down!!" I headed beneath my glass-topped desk, complete with a raised monitor platform, which in retrospect, wasn't the brightest move, but given that the foosball table was the next closest table, I really had very little choice.

Under my desk, I cowered, not sure what would happen next. I positioned myself so that I could see out into the "bullpen" area of our office. My neighbor, Jeff, sat in his leather chair, unsure of where to go, and after further encouragement from Rosemary, fled for a doorway, just moments before the bookshelf next to his desk came crashing down on top of his chair.

Then the shaking stopped. I could hardly believe what had happened and I prayed that it was over for good. As most of my co-workers, and myself, crawled out from doorways and tables, shaken and scared, others took action. We exited the building down the back stairs, moving as quickly as our shaking knees allowed, hoping to get out before an aftershock. Outside the building, we huddled around eachother, somber, eyes widened, until we were given instruction. We were told to go home. To relax. To be with our families. To come back tomorrow, when we'd clean up the office.

It wasn't anything like being in the heart of 9/11. It wasn't anything like the Tsunami that hit Southeast Asia. It certainly can't be compared to Hurricaine Katrina. But it was my very own brush with nature scorned, and it left me with a mild form of anxiety that would live in my gut for years to come. I hope I never, ever have to experience another disaster, natural or otherwise, as long as I live.