Earthquake: The Road To Recovery : Reunion Soothes Quake Memories : Recovery: Northridge Meadows survivors and their rescuers take an evening to get to know each other. Recounting the experience brings solace.

They met for the first time Jan. 17 as strangers thrown together by the most cataclysmic event of their lives--the collapse of the Northridge Meadows apartment complex.

They met again Saturday night, as heroes and survivors curious about one another and how they’d fared since the days of the Northridge quake.

The three hours of laughter and tears over linguine and spinach salad helped speed a few of the rescuers and two of the rescued along the road to recovery.

Nearly five weeks after the quake, former roommates Jerry Prezioso and Steve Langdon came to dinner at a fire station in Chatsworth, temporary quarters of the Los Angeles city firefighters who dug them out of the ruins of Apartment 106.

There was no fanfare or plaques or proclamations--just a group of men sitting around a firehouse swapping war stories about five hours they spent in hell.

The first time firefighter Jack Lewis saw Prezioso was midmorning on Jan. 17--as an anonymous pair of legs protruding from beneath a collapsed wall.

But on Saturday, shared experience lent the men instant familiarity.

“Jerry, how’s the tummy?” Lewis asked. And, Prezioso, 67, pulled up his shirt and displayed the purplish scars that still dot his chest and stomach like stigmata, reminders of the nails that dug into him when the wall of his bedroom collapsed upon him.

“I wasn’t aware of the nails until you guys started pulling me out,” Prezioso recalled.

“Hey, you guys look great,” exclaimed another firefighter, Lee Lewis. He greeted Langdon with: “Steve, your face looks a lot fuller without a wall on it.”

“He’s the guy who was standing on your bed,” Capt. Bob Fickett told Prezioso.

“I love your boots!” Prezioso quipped. “As far as I’m concerned, when I saw those boots on my bed, I didn’t care whether they were dirty or not.”

And so it went. They swapped details, piecing together a story about what happened to them all on the morning of the quake.

Prezioso, who spent 25 years in show business traveling the country as a member of the Happy Jesters, a comedy singing trio, also regaled the firefighters with stories told in the frank and colorful manner of a native New Yorker.

He wiped away a tear or two as he thought about treasured photographs--one taken with Jimmy Durante, another with Red Skelton--lost in the ruins of his former home.

Although no one would take credit for the idea, Fickett said the firefighters had wanted to meet the two roommates since the earthquake. The captain said his crew had never met anyone they’d rescued, much less had them to dinner.

The interest was mutual. Langdon, 45, flew in from Reno for the occasion. “I just wanted to come and see everybody,” he said. “I’m just grateful they were there. They seem like a nice bunch of guys.”

Like the men they rescued, the firefighters have been displaced by the quake. Their own station, No. 70, just four blocks from Northridge Meadows, has been red-tagged.

But the two who were rescued face physical problems as well. Prezioso, his knees swollen and scarred, needs crutches to get around. Langdon still can’t laugh, sneeze or cough without painful reminders of the five ribs and collarbone broken under the weight of a three-story apartment building.

Although their scars are less visible, the firefighters also carry painful memories of a day when they were jolted out of bed, then saw too many broken bodies.

“It’s such an emotional thing, getting thrown out of quarters and going instantly to work. Some guys have had problems with it,” Fickett said.

In interviews last week, psychologists said that while such post-trauma meetings are rare, more survivors are dealing with the aftermath by seeking out others who shared the experience. “Anybody who goes through something like this is going to experience a lot of emotional pain,” said Matt Ryan, a clinical psychologist who treats trauma victims at the Barrington Psychiatric Center in West Los Angeles.

“People are looking for ways, even if they aren’t quite aware of it, to overcome the images in their minds. We’re all going through post-traumatic stress syndrome.”

He added that survivors of traumatic experiences often feel isolated and misunderstood. Sometimes they need to be with other survivors--the only people they feel can understand them.

At Saturday night’s firehouse dinner, Langdon told Prezioso, “Let’s just say that if you were gone, nobody would have heard me yelling, because I was yelling into the mattress.”

Prezioso responded, “You don’t know the heartwarming phone call I got from your mother. She says to me, ‘Thank you for keeping my son alive.’ ” He paused and wiped his eyes. “That’s what God kept me alive for, I guess--to make other people feel just a little bit better. What did I do, that God keeps throwing me back?”

According to Robert Butterworth, a Los Angeles psychologist and a member of the state disaster team, “The rescuers are going through a traumatic situation, too. Some of their rescues weren’t successful, and that hurts.” He said the reunion helps the firefighters as well, allowing them to celebrate their success.

“This is their way of coping with the earthquake. It will be interesting to see whether there is any contact beyond, say, a brief period of time,” Butterworth said. “Events like this do become defining moments.”

Prezioso vowed to return in mid-March to cook Italian sauce for the firemen. “What about it pal, a little variety?” he challenged firefighter Mike Henry, the cook for the evening.

But pain lay just beneath the surface, and sometimes it bubbled up, unbidden, from beneath the breezy banter and salty stories.

Prezioso broke down, allowing that he sometimes has bad moments, then cursed and apologized. The firefighters quickly told him he was not alone.

“You’re not the only one who gets anxious,” said firefighter Bill Mueller. “Sometimes I sit next to a wall and look at it,” he said, referring to apprehension about frequent aftershocks.

Lee Lewis told Prezioso that the quake has taken its toll on him, too. “I remember on my last shift saying to myself, ‘This is the first time I’ve felt comfortable about these earthquakes. That was at 1 o’clock. At 1:13, there was another one.”

For the survivors, dealing with the aftershocks is a constant reminder of what they endured. But never far from their minds is the simple but sobering fact that they are here remembering--and 16 others are not.

Simi Valley Freeway Whole Again (Almost) A vital east-west link across the northern San Fernando Valley was restored Sunday night with the opening of a crippled stretch of the Simi Valley Freeway. The Jan. 17 earthquake buckled the roadway and badly damaged two bridges, prompting officials to close the freeway between Tampa Avenue and the Golden State Freeway. Commuters looking for alternate routes have flooded Valley surface streets.

Here’s How Caltrans Is Getting the Ailing Freeway Back In Shape: The Diagnosis: Shortly after the quake, Caltrans announces that two freeway bridges must be rebuilt. The eastbound sides of the bridges are demolished while the westbound sides are shored up for temporary use. The Cleanup: On Feb. 4 crews begin resurfacing westbound side. Temporary crossovers are laid to divert traffic to westbound lanes between Ruffner and Woodley avenues. Cost: $4 million. The Opening: Caltrans opens roadway Sunday. Rerouted portion includes car-pool lanes in each direction. The Next Step: Work is already under way on rebuilding and resurfacing eastbound side. Projected cost: $9.7 million. Construction time: 100 days. The Future: When eastbound side is complete, all traffic is rerouted area will be diverted onto these lanes. The shored up westbound side will be demolished, rebuilt and resurfaced.