Letters of Life, Death and Love

On the day of the quake, I was working North Hollywood Division, Los Angeles Police Department, assigned to handle radio calls.

I was close to a call, a possible shooting, in a nice area of Studio City. As we arrived, neighbors said that an elderly woman lived in the house.

As I entered, I heard someone moaning in another room and I smelled gunpowder. In a bedroom, we found the woman with a single gunshot to the abdomen. She had killed both of her small dogs and laid them on the bed wrapped in towels. They were each shot once with the woman’s gun.

Her house was in shambles from the quake. There was a note telling whoever found her that the quake was the last act God could do to her life. She felt she had lost everything.

We requested an ambulance several times, but the call load was too heavy from other quake victims.

We wrapped the woman in a blanket and carried her to a police car. She was raced to the hospital. She lived approximately one week before dying from her own hand.

Doctors felt she was not trying to live. It was her last effort to remove herself from what she thought was a hopeless world.

I remember this one incident more than all the others that I saw. It seemed so senseless. I don’t know if she was included in the list of victims killed by the quake.

Det. Gordon Hagge

North Hollywood Division

*

My father had stayed over the night of the earthquake. He loves coffee, and at first light he asked me to drive him around to find someone who

was selling coffee, since we had no power at our house. There was nothing open around our house because no one else had any power either, so we got on the southbound 14 Freeway looking for coffee.

The freeway was backed up with traffic, so we drove across the center divide area and went back the other way.

We drove all around looking for his coffee. The entire time we drove around he kept saying, “Someone has to have coffee.”

We never did find any coffee.

John Rubacher

Santa Clarita

*

I tried to get into the den and couldn’t. The fallen bookcase blocked the door, and it wasn’t until the next day, with the help of someone else, that I was able to get in there.

What I found has continued to affect my life to this day. All my photo albums (up to date from the time I was born--and being a senior citizen, that’s a considerable amount of albums) were destroyed. Front and back broken, pages crumbled and torn. Nothing left intact.

I have since bought 36 new albums, and am now on a mission to fill them. I do a little bit at a time, and though it’s a nuisance job, I’m having fun reliving my life in photos--something I might not have done had it not been for the earthquake.

Henriette Goldsmith

Encino

*

Our company, Vagabond House, manufactures small gift-ware items. We employ about 25 people, mostly immigrants who work hard and live paycheck to paycheck.

They showed up at the factory in Chatsworth that morning because they had no place else to go. Their apartments had been wrecked, and they were afraid to go back. It was a daunting situation: no place to live, no work and no pay.

The interim solution was to turn our damaged house into the company motel. Thirty-five people slept on the floor and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by candlelight. The children screamed during the numerous aftershocks, but we made it through that long and dismal night. The next morning, we held a meeting and decided we were not going to be defeated. Everybody pitched in. We all went back to the factory and used chain saws to cut up the collapsed roof and salvage what equipment we could. We rented containers, tarpaulins and tents and moved Vagabond House into the parking lot in front of our shattered building.

Once the power and phones were restored, we were up and running. Two days after the quake, we called our UPS man and asked him where he was. We had merchandise ready to ship.

He was astounded. Three months were spent in that parking lot before we could move back into the building. During that entire period our workers handled every task with good cheer and plenty of elbow grease.

Five years later, we’re still in business and many of the people who took us through that difficult time are still with us. I am tremendously proud of them. They are living proof that the human spirit can triumph over adversity.

Susan Lord

Tarzana

*

My husband, a high school physics teacher, and I had been married less than two months. We had barely settled into our new townhouse when the earthquake struck.

That is when I found out how strange physics teachers can be. Instead of shouting “I love you” or “I’m scared,” he held onto me while giving me a complete impromptu lecture on earthquakes, including their P waves and S waves.

Still nervous from the experience, we sleep with a light on. And whenever we have an aftershock, we place bets on the magnitude.

Despite my husband’s high level of education in planetary science and physics, I usually win. I hope you print this because he still owes me several back rubs.

Adele Silverman

Woodland Hills

*

The quake’s aftermath lasted well over two years for this Northridge/Porter Ranch mail carrier. The residential streets on my route resembled war zones. Physical debris and mental chaos were everywhere.

Thinking back now, it’s doubtful that my postal customers could have anticipated or even imagined the nightmares that lay just ahead.

The human predators swooped in almost before the ground stopped shaking. Con artists disguised as contractors literally took the money and ran, leaving behind a mangled trail of shell-shocked, cash-strapped homeowners betrayed with broken promises, costly substandard materials and shoddy repairs.

In many cases, the insurance companies routinely refused to properly honor damage claims. Unfortunately, I was the only available messenger for their discouraging correspondence.

Many lives were affected by the Northridge

earthquake, some more than others. As a mail carrier and longtime friend to many of my 400-plus customers, I’m proud to have witnessed their unprecedented courage, fortitude and humanity when suddenly dealt such violent blows, natural and man-made. Individually and collectively, they are all heroes.

David Garretson

Sylmar

*

Ah, the earthquake. Since then, I’ve been feeling much better. I’m calm, confident, optimistic and enjoying life--or is it the Prozac I’ve been taking ever since?

Fran Spivek

Northridge

*

When the shaking stopped, both externally and internally, after assuring myself that my loved ones were safe and my home intact, my thoughts turned to those who might not be so lucky.

At the end of 1993, I had leased a warehouse in Chatsworth. It had been a long-standing dream to be of help to the hopeless and homeless. I had intended to use the warehouse to store items for distribution to the needy.

The earthquake accelerated my plans. Working closely with the Valley Interfaith Council, we were able to store and then distribute water, clothing, blankets, tents and enough food for almost a million

meals to those in need.

My experience strengthened my belief that helping one another is the only way that our society will survive and flourish, and much of my time is now devoted to community service.

The devastating Northridge quake of ’94 will forever be remembered by me as the catalyst that helped change the direction of my life.

Arthur Stevens

Chatsworth

*

As we stood outside our house about 4:45 a.m., awaiting the next aftershock, we noticed car headlights coming up the street. We hoped it was an emergency vehicle as we dearly wanted information about the situation at hand.

The headlights seemed to sway from side to side. As the car came closer, we realized that it was the L.A. Times delivery man.

When he got within earshot, we asked if he was aware of the major earthquake we had just experienced. He answered that he was, but he had a job to do and he drove on.

The touch of everyday events buoyed our spirits a bit. Every time I think of that morning, I remember the paper getting delivered and it takes a little edge off the traumatic events at the time.

Jacqueline McLaughlin

Northridge

*

Right after the earthquake, the young woman who lived in Apartment 2 ran out, crying, leaving her front door wide open. All of the electricity in our apartment building was off.

I entered her apartment, with my flashlight following a stream of water. The violent shaking had broken the porcelain toilet tank, and the water that would have normally filled the tank was pouring out onto the bathroom floor with the power of a small garden hose.

I clearly remember standing ankle deep in water when my flashlight illuminated something that made me stand frozen for a moment. It was an electric hair dryer that was still plugged in and it was floating in the water.

I have probably never said such a succinct and heartfelt prayer, “Please God, the electricity does not have to come back on right now.”

In what seemed like slow motion, I pulled the hair dryer out of the water by its cord and placed it by the sink. Then, I turned off the toilet’s shut-off valve to stop the flow of water. The electricity did not come back on until much later.

It must have been a very good prayer.

R.J. Johnson

North Hollywood

*

That first look at a pitch-black San Fernando Valley, save for the blue arcs of exploding transformers and a river of water that was burning due to ruptured gas lines, is a memory etched forever in my mind.

For the next five days and nights, we would fly and try to help the people of Los Angeles. Every now and then, I’ll meet someone and they’ll tell me, “You know, you were all we had there for a while. Thanks.” It has made me a better person.

Jeff Baugh

Valley Village

Helicopter traffic reporter

*

I remember the weeks afterward--the cleanup,

the relief when the inspector gave the complex a green tag, the insurance people, FEMA losing me twice in their system before finally coming to my assistance, 10 days without water or heat, and mostly becoming very good friends with neighbors I had only nodded at in the

hallways prior to the earthquake.

The common bond we now shared brought us together as nothing else could have. Strangest of all, the noise from the earthquake itself, combined with the noise of the walls moving, pipes breaking, bookshelves falling and china breaking must have been phenomenal--but no matter how I try, I can’t remember the noise.

I remember everything else--why can’t I remember the noise?

Barbara M. Haverin

Cavalier,? N.D.,

formerly of Sherman Oaks

*

About a week after the quake, we found a tomato in a kitchen drawer. Apparently the earthquake opened the drawer, the tomato rolled in, and the earthquake closed the drawer.

Also, some of my wife’s jewelry was missing. We were afraid we had vacuumed it up with the broken glass. We tore apart the vacuum cleaner bag to no avail.

We finally found the jewelry between the mattress and the box springs when we changed

sheets.

That means that the mattress must have been airborne when the dresser (where the jewelry was resting) tipped over.

David L. Burkhart

Granada Hills

*

I was in that building.

I lived in the Northridge Meadows and consider myself very lucky because my apartment was in a small section of the building that did not collapse and everyone was OK. There were large cracks in the walls, but I was unaware of the extent of the damage to the rest of the building. I had even suggested to my roommates that we go back to bed and deal with it in the morning. Then the aftershocks started and I quickly changed my mind. On the way out, I locked the front door, not realizing it would be nearly two weeks before we were allowed back in to retrieve our possessions.

As we followed our normal exit route into the courtyard, I finally realized the horror of what had happened. The second floor was sitting on the walkway in front of me. The first floor had completely disappeared. I tried not to think about what this meant, but I knew people had died.

A few days later, my roommates and I were eating dinner in a restaurant on Reseda Boulevard that was within walking distance of our infamous apartment building. We talked about what had happened to the building, would we ever get our belongings back, and where we were going to live.

At the end of the meal, our server, instead of bringing the check, told us that the family sitting at the next table had overheard us talking and paid for our whole dinner. We were greatly moved by this compassionate gesture. We never got to thank this generous family or even know their name, because they paid for our dinner in cash and had already left when we were told. So, thank you very much. Your kindness in a stressful time will always be remembered.

Katie Walker

Winnetka

*

Immediately following the earthquake, I ran out the front door of my house into the total darkness of the city. I looked up and was mesmerized by a sky full of stars! I stood there, in awe of the celestials, but my fascination was soon interrupted by the first aftershock. With all of the horrible destruction occurring around me, I was temporarily enchanted by this most striking and beautiful image.

Michele Hewitt

Canoga Park

*

I still sleep listening and waiting for something to happen. I place things far from edges on furniture. I try not to be under an overpass when driving my car. I freak if my house creaks at night.

I realize life is too precious to waste on fear, but it is implanted so deeply now.

Judith A. Mitchell

Tarzana

*

I was taking a shower at 4:31 a.m. Jan. 17.

The first jolt threw me against the side of the shower, and I got out in a hurry. There was a bright flash, then the lights went out. I stood in front of the bathroom sink, hearing that terrible roar and feeling the awful shaking. It’s hard to describe

what it was like, but someone had described it as standing 2 inches away from a speeding freight train. That description is perfect. I wondered how in the world the house could take the strain.

In the five years since, I have seldom taken a shower without thinking of earthquakes!

Mary Jo Griffith

Woodland Hills

*

When the Northridge earthquake rumbled across our city and jolted Angelenos out of bed, little did we know that the early-morning temblor would put Los Angeles in the record books.

Sadly, we lost 57 people whose memories we honor today. Days later, we realized that the damages would add up to be the nation’s costliest natural disaster. Los Angeles was still healing from a riot, fires and floods when the Northridge earthquake struck.

Ironically, this major disaster in a string of catastrophes marked the turning point for Los Angeles. In true Angeleno spirit, people triumphed over adversity, and our record recovery would be the start of a new legacy for our city.

Angelenos citywide offered helping hands to those most affected by the earthquake and provided comfort to families whose lives were forever changed.

Strangers helped strangers; neighbors became friends. In City Hall, we slashed red tape and immediately worked with federal, state and local lawmakers to secure funding sources for our recovery.

The incredible efforts and energy that went into our recovery have since been focused on major revitalizations citywide. From the Valley to the Harbor, from East L.A. to the Westside, our city

has progressed into a global model for what’s new and what’s next. Five years later, we can proudly say we have come back.

Today, we continue to add new chapters of success to our city’s legacy. A natural disaster of the Northridge earthquake’s magnitude would have folded any other city, but in Los Angeles, this earthquake marks the point that turned Los Angeles around.

Mayor Richard J. Riordan

Los Angeles

*

A day after, and early evening, the sun was going down.

As I traveled north down the hill on Laurel Canyon Boulevard to Ventura Boulevard, I noticed one lone beacon of light in the middle of the Valley where usually there was a sea of lights, now full of darkened light bulbs and street lamps. I could not help but steer toward it. I traveled west to Balboa and followed it north to Lassen and there . . .

There . . . was a line of cars two blocks long. All waiting for the same thing. Food! At In-N-Out Burger! Somehow the owner had rigged up a generator and opened as usual. That single beacon of light turned out to be a tasty morsel in the unsteady crumbs of life.

Dorman Nelson

Granada Hills

*

Five years later and 2,000 miles away, I’m just now getting over the urge to dive under a desk when I feel the ground shake from a passing truck. Then again, there’s this thing in Minnesota called “winter.” Maybe a little shaking isn’t so bad after all.

Neil Lynch

Minneapolis, Minn.,

formerly of Canoga Park

*

As the earth shook, something flying through the dark hit me in the face and left a cut under my lip. I needed stitches.

We figured there would be a long wait at the emergency room, so my wife first drove us past our doctor’s office. Closed. Then we checked out an urgent care facility we had visited once before. No doctors, but somebody stood guard protecting the pharmaceuticals from looting. He directed us to another urgent care site in Canoga Park.

Our drive took us past the train wreck, a gas leak, closed roads and a chemical odor in an industrial neighborhood. Were we nuts to be driving about?

When we arrived at the urgent care facility, there was a doctor there who had left his own earthquake troubles to help out some patients. He had no electricity, so he was stitching up patients in the lobby where he could get light from the window. He had a small staff that appeared to be hastily assembled to handle reception and payments. He removed some glass from a woman’s foot, then put a couple of stitches in my chin.

Thanks, Doc.

Richard M. Mathews

Northridge

*

[After the earthquake] my brother Dave called to check in. We were still waiting to hear from my other brother, Marc. As the morning went on, we still had not heard from Marc. Sometime later, Dave called to let us know that a house on Marc’s street had collapsed. I was sure Marc was all right--what were the chances that it was his house that had collapsed?

My dad and I decided to get in the car and drive out to Sherman Oaks. As we approached Marc’s house, we could tell that it was no longer there. It was Marc’s house, and I couldn’t believe it. I just hoped beyond hope that Marc and his fiancee, Karen Osterholt, would be there when we got to his house. Unfortunately, they weren’t. Why Marc’s house? All the houses surrounding his were still standing.

I know that the pain of losing my brother will be with me ever day for the rest of my life. It bothers me when I hear people talk about that day and all the things they lost. On this, the fifth anniversary, I hope people realize how fortunate they are to be safe and to have loved ones. Things can always be replaced; people can’t.

As a new mother, it saddens me tremendously that my newborn son won’t know how funny, caring, thoughtful and loving his uncle was. Yet, they do share something. My son Paul Marc-Henry, was born on Marc’s birthday, Dec. 16. I know that my son will always have an extra special guardian angel watching over him.

Amy Yobs Bouchez

Westlake Village

*

For a long time afterward, I had to look away when the clock struck 4:31. I’m better now.

Amy Hiatt

Sherman Oaks

*

ON THE WEB: More letters about earthquake memories can be found on the Times web site at https://www.latimes.com/valleyquake.