I was a freshman in high school at George Washington High School. I had left my dad’s house on 14th and California St. to walk my dogs at Mountain Lake Park. I was walking towards park when it hit. I didn’t see any trees swaying or the road buckling. Kind of anti-climactic. I thought “no biggie” so I just kept walking towards the dog run when this lady comes running down the street yelling at me. I don’t remember her exact words but she was hysterical enough to convince me that I should head home pronto.
On the way home all the street lights on Park Presidio Blvd. were out. Uh oh, this might be worse than I thought. When I got home my dad was out on the street talking to our neighbors and handing out candles. When it hit he was tuning into the World Series and got knocked flat on his butt. I helped him pass out candles to our neighbors.
We lived right off of California street so there was always bus and traffic noise but not that night. No school the next day. I rode my Huffy out to the Marina to see the fires and collapsed buildings. Oh that thing about dogs being able to predict earthquakes? Total crap, my dogs didn’t predict it at all.