Rita Nazareno

I was a freshman at St. Mary’s in Moraga. I just had finished with classes that afternoon, excited for the World Series. My friend Chinggay and I got to my house to start preparing for our neighbors and friends who were to come over. I just had turned the TV on when the rumble started. Chinggay and I ran to each other and ducked under the kitchen counter. I clearly remember Chinggay holding my hands, her eyes closed, blurting ‘Hail Mary full of grace…’ as the house rocked, the television buzzing, transmitting static.