re: #224 Jay C

I remember it well. Felt the shaking, woke up; felt some more shaking, then whipped my own ass right of bed PDQ when I saw the heavy-framed painting above the bed-head dancing on the wall.

We were lucky: aside from shaken nerves, a cracked picture window was all the damage my parents’ house sustained.

I lived in Covina; the shaking was enough to get hauled out of bed and made to stand in a doorway, but the only damage in our area was a few liquor stores had bottles fall off the shelves.