STARTING OVER: Two families after the quake : Quake Victims Hold Onto Part of Life as It Was : They Speak More Softly and Rarely Talk of Past Temblors

Before the October earthquakes, Juan Luna’s house was like the boarding platform at a disorganized train station--people rushing in and out, loud conversations over coffee in the kitchen, children underfoot--with everything choreographed to music from a local Spanish-language radio station.

The violent shaking the morning of Oct. 1 changed all that, severely damaging the comfortable old house and forcing its 19 residents to spend nights on the lawn. Inspections revealed the home could not be saved, and members of the household who had lived together for years ended up parting bitterly.

More Peaceful Place

Today, Luna and a much smaller group of friends spend their time in a living room of carpeted silence, porcelain knickknacks resting undisturbed on white shelves flanking the mantle. The pleasant 50s-style house, a few blocks from where they used to live, is a reminder not only of how the earthquake uprooted Luna physically, but also of how it changed his life socially.

“In the other house, there was always talk and noise and somebody cooking and some people angry and some people content,” Luna said. “We’re more peaceful here.”

But he looked a little wistful as he reflected upon those chaotic days, and added, “If it weren’t for the earthquake, I’d still be living there.”

Six people, including four from the old house on Bright Avenue, live in the new home that Luna rented in October with money from the Red Cross. Those who stuck together were Luna, Gabino Bernal, Maria Celia Fuentes, and her son, Juan Ernesto, 23.

It was impossible to find a landlord who would accept 19 tenants, Luna said, but the others did not understand that and felt abandoned. As a result, they are not on speaking terms, though Luna has heard through the grapevine that the Red Cross helped them find another house, too.

The talk in the old house was as varied as the nationalities of those who lived there. Immigrants from El Salvador, Guatemala, Ecuador, Cuba, Mexico and Puerto Rico crammed into the three-bedroom home, sleeping on beds, couches and floors.

“We all had different ideas--we had politicians, teachers, everybody,” Luna said.

Some Still Visit

Those friends are gone, but others still drop by for visits, when Luna happily entertains them with lively conversation and rushes to play his favorite record--an instrumental Hawaiian-sounding rendition of “Spanish Eyes.”

Luna and Maria Fuentes, who are longtime friends, often spend the early evening talking together in the breakfast nook of the three-bedroom house. Topics range from the domestic obligations of career women to the abysmal state of public transit in Los Angeles.

Luna also likes to tell stories about his new job as a night security guard, with assignments in Long Beach, Hollywood and Montebello. He left his position as a gasoline station cashier two months ago.

“I like this new job better,” he said. “It’s less responsibility, you know, less trouble.”

But they do not talk about the earthquake unless asked.

“I always think about it and I’m always afraid,” said Fuentes, who lived outdoors for two months in Guatemala after a 7.5 temblor struck in 1976. “As long as I live in California, I know I will feel that way.”

They Are Not Missed

Although she was upset by the earthquake damage in Whittier, Fuentes said she was glad it gave her the chance to leave the old house. Fuentes, who works six days a week as a housekeeper, had grown tired of the arguments and disturbed by people coming and going at all hours.

“I haven’t missed them,” she said of her old house mates. “Not for a minute.”

But she does mourn for Whittier’s Uptown business district, where earthquake damage has forced the destruction of 26 buildings. Officials estimate the temblor caused more than $70 million in damage throughout the city of 70,000.

“It’s sad to go through the center of town,” Fuentes said. “The panorama used to be so pretty.”

The terror of early October returned briefly one day last month when Whittier was jolted by a 4.0 aftershock of the 5.9 quake.

“I was out on the lawn before it finished shaking,” Luna said with a nervous laugh.

“Somehow, I’m always the last one out of the house,” Fuentes said.

Move Canceled

Partly because of the earthquakes and partly because Luna and Fuentes were recently granted immigration amnesty in the United States, the two were thinking about moving to Cleveland, Ohio. But the family with whom they planned to stay returned to Los Angeles in December, tired of the cold weather and isolation from their relatives.

In fact, the couple and their four children ended up sleeping in Luna’s living room for a month while they searched for a place to live.

For now, Luna and Fuentes have resigned themselves to staying in California, although Fuentes wants to visit her three daughters in Guatemala later this year.

Luna changed the subject, and left the table to retrieve snapshots taken during a celebracion de la Virgen de Guadalupe he organized at the house Dec. 12.

The pictures showed how he converted the mantle to an altar, lavishly decorated with crepe paper and bright flowers.

A young woman, draped in a vivid blue shawl decorated with golden stars, portrayed the virgin. Guests sat in rows of folding chairs on both sides of the altar.

“We had 40, maybe 50 people here,” Luna said proudly. “It was so beautiful . . . I make sure this stays a lively house.”