I felt my first California earthquake on Saturday night just after 10:00 p.m. Lauren had dosed off on the couch, and I was up reading. The boys were asleep of course. It was a small one, only 3.0 on the Richter scale, and hit us with a single jolt, as if a truck had hit the building. I got to my feet. My heart was racing. It woke Lauren, and after I assured her the boys were fine, we turned on the news and listened to the report that the quake had struck two miles west of Santa Monica–or right in our vicinity.
This is only my second earthquake. The first I felt while on my mission in Venezuela. At the time we lived on the fourth or fifth floor of an apartment building, so we really felt it. But it too was a light quake. I’ve yet to feel a big one. And have no desire to do so.
