My wife Kristen and I were sound asleep that MLK Day morning of Jan. 17, 1994. Our condo building began shaking violently just after 4:30 a.m. Unlike previous quakes I’d experienced, this one felt like the building was being jolted vertically instead of side to side. That might have been due to our relatively close proximity to the 6.7 magnitude event.
The Northridge earthquake's magnitude was ultimately measured at 6.7.
The quake:
The epicenter of the earthquake was determined to be near Wilbur Avenue and Arminta Street, about a mile from the Cal State Northridge campus.
Was it a "Big One"?
Not even close. The Big One will be at least 44 times stronger than Northridge.
I quickly awoke and told Kristen to run with me to our dining area table. Amidst the sound of crashing glassware and plates, we huddled under the table until the shaking stopped. Car alarms were sounding from our building’s garage and along the street. Everything was dark. Power was out.
I called KPCC, where I’d been working for more than a decade, to check on our studios at Pasadena City College, not having any idea of the quake’s epicenter. The overnight engineer told me he felt it, but our facilities were undamaged. I hit the road, uncertain about what damage there might be to surface streets and freeway overpasses. I was trying to shift my overactive adrenaline with positive thoughts about getting to the studios without road blockages or safety hazards.
Soon after I arrived I went on the air to explain what we were learning. Caltech scientists, law enforcement agencies, and fire departments all provided vital details. We carried news conferences throughout the day and night. Hour-by-hour we learned the extent of damage. Structures destroyed at Cal State Northridge. The bottom floor of an apartment complex collapsed, killing residents in their beds. A Santa Monica freeway overpass down. There was large-scale damage up and down the streets of the San Fernando Valley, Hollywood, and Santa Monica.
What affected me most were the calls throughout the day from listeners traumatized by their experiences. Many were without electricity and struggling to reach loved ones. I can still hear the emotion in their voices. My hope was to provide some measure of comfort as we gradually learned together what hit us.
By the time I got home late that night I couldn’t even focus on the shattered items in the kitchen. I was so exhausted and overwhelmed by listener expressions of terror and distress that I could only fall into bed to sleep. Or so I expected. The activation of my fight or flight response many hours before made falling asleep challenging. My difficulty in getting to sleep would continue for months after the Northridge earthquake.
Over my 40-year career of covering news it’s the days of crisis and disaster that stand out strongest. Those are the times Angelenos come together in our mutual feelings of helplessness, fear, and uncertainty. Just being able to hear the voices of others experiencing the same thing is therapeutic. Finding ways of helping others cope with fear and loss gives a sense of purpose in times we feel overwhelmed. That’s one of the unique benefits of a program like the one I host. It provides that link to others when we need it most.
I describe AirTalk — the call-in radio show I hosted then and still do to this day — as Southern California’s biggest conversation. It’s during times like those, 30 years ago, when our service really becomes Southern California’s most necessary conversation. In the weeks following the Northridge quake, we continued providing a space for listeners to detail their rebuilding, healing, and resilience. It only worked because of listeners’ openness to sharing their personal experiences and trials with other Angelenos. That’s the real sense of community we’ve seen with each crisis we’ve faced.
As our audience turned to each other and looked to our station for support and information, we were able to be there connecting everyone. Despite the quake being one of the toughest tests our region has faced, we saw Southern California’s resiliency. Coming together with a sense of community is a powerful thing. We saw that clearly 1/17/94 and after.
We don't want to scare you, but the Big One is coming. We don't know when, but we know it'll be at least 44 times stronger than Northridge and 11 times stronger than the Ridgecrest quakes in 2019. To help you get prepared, we've compiled a handy reading list
The destruction on CSUN's campus was extensive and dramatic. A large parking structure collapsed onto itself, its giant columns bent backward by the force of the quake. A fire broke out in a science building. The university's Oviatt Library sustained damage and most of its books were dumped onto the floor. A second library building was so decimated it had to be demolished.
Staff and faculty worked out of tents that became their temporary offices and information center. Despite the quake, the spring 1994 semester started just two weeks later than originally scheduled. The temblor caused more than $400 million in damage and the reconstruction wasn't officially completed until August 2007.
— Ryan Fonseca
Los Angeles Mayor Richard Riordan officially declared a state of emergency about an hour after the quake. That was followed by California Gov. Pete Wilson also declaring one, making it easier for the area to get state resources.
That afternoon, President Bill Clinton declared a national disaster for Los Angeles County, helping to direct federal resources to the region.
Within 5 ½ hours of the initial quake, authorities were able to get all active fires under control, helping to prevent further damage.
Multiple highways had to be closed due to the damage and surface streets were used as detours. Thousands of residents were without water and electricity as rescue crews began searching the rubble for survivors.
— Ryan Fonseca
The California National Guard was deployed to assist help with recovery efforts and maintain order. Tent cities went up at parks and other open spaces for thousands of displaced Angelenos.
Many people refuse to return to their homes, fearing another earthquake. Some slept on their lawns or in their cars. The quake broke water pipes across the region, and officials told people to boil drinking water. Residents kept bottles and jugs to fill up when water trucks rolled in.
— Ryan Fonseca
President Clinton visited Los Angeles two days after the quake touring damaged roadways and surveying the urban destruction.
"This is a national problem. We have a national responsibility," Clinton told local officials in a hangar at Burbank Airport, according to the L.A. Times. "This is something we intend to stay with until the job is over."
— Ryan Fonseca
Along with the dozens killed and thousands hurt, the quake caused $20 billion in damage. This video posted by Caltrans shows the scope of the destruction to the region's freeway system and all the work put in to repair the roadways.
Though the region has made strides in retrofitting and the city recently launched a quake alert app, the Big One is still coming — and it'll be at least 44 times stronger than Northridge.
To learn more and find out how to prepare your home, your family and yourself, read our survival guide here.
Still need motivation to get ready? Listen to our award-winning podcast to prep your own survival guide.
