Annette Glanckopf

I was in Sacramento preparing for an IBM road show and working on a computer. All of a sudden, the table and monitor shook. One of the team said, “I think we’ve just had an earthquake.”. We turned on the TV and were horrified to see pictures of the Bay Bridge crumbling. Horrifying, we were stuck in Sacramento and couldn’t get home for a few more days.

My husband, Tom, was driving down Alma street. He reported that it felt like he had 4 flat tires. He then looked up and saw the power and phone lines swaying. He said later, that he should have know what was happening – since he was a geologist.

We had little damage at home – just a few broken items.  Luckily it was all cleared up by the time I got home.

The story ends in sadness, a few weeks later I was coming home from a business trip. Tom picked me up at the airport, and told me to sit down. He wanted to tell me some news.  I was grouchy and tired and just wanted to get home. The news, my dearest friend, John Lauritz, had been on the Bay Bridge portion that collapsed, and was one of the 69 people who had been killed. I think of him often, and hold my breath as I pass under freeway overpasses or cross bridges.