The
July 16, 1990 killer quake came like a thief in the middle of the night. It shook the
Philippine archipelago and left many structures in ruins. It served as a
reminder to all of mankind that we are all but helpless against nature's
wrath. When it hit us, I was smiling at first but a few seconds later,
that smile was wiped out and was replaced by terror.
I'll
never forget that fateful day. I just came from a successful job hunting. My uncle and I were having a
conversation about it when the wooden floors of the house started
creaking. He told me to stop twiddling my feet. Told him I'm not. The ground beneath us appeared to be shaking, rising and swaying left to right.
I
tried to stand up but to no avail. My uncle was able to grab the
portable transistor radio but no one was on the air. I mean, under such circumstances, who'd dare to do a live broadcast? The anchors
surely must have scampered outside their respective stations for safety.
We decided
to stay inside the house because it's a lot safer we reckoned. It was an
old house made of wood. As we all know, these structures go with the
flow unlike concrete structures that tend to fight the impact thus
making it more susceptible to collapsing. It could have lasted less than a
minute but it seemed like an eternity.
I proceeded to an aunt's house to check
out the news. There
was no traffic, the streets were practically deserted. It was like a
scene straight out of
the film
The Day the Earth Stood Still. My cousins and I were glued to our seats listening
intently to the extended coverage of the quake.
I had a hard time
sleeping that night for fear of another tremor. Thank God there weren't
any. Still, I was unable to shake the fear off and practically stayed awake
till the wee hours of the morning. I really couldn't wait for the sunrise to
assure myself that a new day had indeed dawned.
