Where Were You – February 9th 1971?
Update: February 9, 2021 ~ 50 Years Ago Today
I’ve added a new post for the “Fifty Years Ago Today” and Randy finally did a post of his and his mom and sister’s rememberances of the “The Longest Day – February 9th, 1971”. I hope you enjoy stepping back in time with us as we remember that long hot day…and the days that followed. Please share your rememberances and stories, we would love to read them!
Update: February 9, 2016 ~ 45 Years Ago Today
Can you believe it’s been that long? Not me, seems like just yesterday…well not just like yesterday, but 45 years! Good grief! How the time has flown. I found this article at the Los Angeles Daily News and more pictures of the damage. I’ve added the photos from their article to the bottom of this post.
Original Post February 9, 2008
At 6:01am I was still in bed. The night before I had finished reading a book on the bombing of Hiroshima, for a school assignment. When the quake hit, the sound was so loud, I thought we were being bombed. It was still an hour before sunrise, I just read that while I was looking for pictures to put up here, so I didn’t notice the huge crack in the wall of my bedroom till later. You could see into the garage where the crack started out vertically then went horizontally to the other side of the room, where I could see outside.
To read more…
My bedroom had a small alcove as you came in the door, and all my furniture, dresser, cedar chest, bed and other girl junk had moved in front of the door and was all just kind of jammed into the alcove. I was screaming for my mom and dad. I heard my mom hollering for me to get out of my room and get to the hallway. That of course made me scream all the more, feeling I was trapped and cut off from my family, that I would never get out of my room (I was a teenage girl). When she finally got to my room (before or just after the shaking stopped) she just pushed the door open! I still don’t know how she was able to do that, I was not able to move anything, it was jammed so tight. She sure exhibited some mother bear strength, and we have always chalked it up to adrenaline. Later she told of seeing my brother ‘riding’ his bed around his room. After getting me out of my room, my dad was gathering us to get us out of the house, and as we came down the hallway we could see a huge pool of water from the water heater. And laying in the the water were all of our encyclopedias. Mom stopped to pick them up and dry them off, my dad just took her by the arm and told her “we need to get out of the house, leave the books”.
Once we were outside, we saw that mom’s leg was covered in blood, and still bleeding. It took awhile for it to stop, even with pressure, which she said it hurt a “little”. A month or so later, the cut had healed over, but was still a “little” sore when she touched it. When dad looked at it he could see it was swollen and when he pulled on the area around where the cut had been it pulled apart and puss and blood came out. She then had him take a pair of tweezers and pull a small piece of glass out of her knee/shin. She had been in her bathroom when the quake hit, and all the stuff in her medicine chest fell out into the sink and shattered. In those days almost all medicines came in glass bottles. The shaking had thrown her down to her knees and that is how the glass got into knee. I don’t know how long we were out front, before we would venture back into the house. All the neighbors were out front, and we were all comparing damages. The street in front of our house had bucked up 2-3 feet. The next door neighbor’s pool water had all come up out of the pool, in one huge mass and then crashed back down cracking his pool and flooding the patio and then his dinning room. On the other side of us the block wall had been knocked down. My room cracked and one corner of the room had dropped, months later, after all the aftershocks, my Uncle Frank helped my dad jack that corner back up, and then we Spackled and painted. My parents decided to put in wall to wall carpeting instead of refinishing the beautiful hardwood floors, they were terribly warped and stained from the water heater dumping all it’s contents, twice, once with the initial shock-wave and then again a couple weeks later, after we had installed a new one, there was another big jolt. The kitchen was 1-2 feet deep in all the food from the refrigerator and every dish, bowl, pot, pan, glass, utensil, everything that was in a kitchen cupboard was in a heap of broken, smashed, bent junk, it was covered in leftover food, milk, juice, all the condiments (they were in glass jars back then) flour, sugar….it was a smelly gooey sticky mess. The linoleum flooring had to be replace because the glass smashed onto the floor with such force it cut big chunks out, some was so embedded we couldn’t get it out.
That first day we spent most of the day in the back yard listening to a transistor radio, talking with neighbors, and telling our stories. About 9-10 o’clock, still morning, I went to see how my best friend Judy Viana and her family had fared, she lived just around the corner from us. As soon as I knocked on her door, I noticed how eerily quite the house was and when no one was answering, I got so scared. I kept knocking and then I started looking in the windows and then I was yelling for them, nothing. A neighbor from across the street came over and said that as soon as the shaking stopped, he came out to see the Vianas loading up their car with some personal stuff, and they left for Missouri, that very morning! I saw her once when she came back for a visit right after I graduated from high school. There were other people we knew that moved after the quake. The most ironic was a young woman that worked with my mom at Farmers Ins. She packed up herself and young daughter and moved to a mid-western state. She hadn’t been there very long when the town she moved to was hit with a tornado.
My next door neighbor Curtis Howard, he was 18 or so, volunteered at the two hospitals, Olive View and the San Fernando VA, both in Sylmar. They had people trapped in them, and helped dig through the rubble. I remember one afternoon seeing him just sitting on the curb out front. He was so disturbed by what he had seen, he could hardly talk to me about it, I remember him saying the smell was just so overpowering and sickening. I’ll never forget how full of joy he was when they pulled the kitchen worker, Frank Carbonara, out of the VA Hospital, after more than 2 days.
More pictures from a 2016 Los Angeles Daily News article.
So what’s Your Story?
We’d love to hear your stories of where you were, what you felt, how you coped. And if you have any pictures of what you saw that day, that would be great! You can click here and scroll to the comment box, or click on the Please Comment above this post and scroll down to the comment box.



































































:mrgreen: Hey! Randy told me what happened to him when the quake hit. He said he woke up and rode his bed around the room, even as it was a small room. Our house was knocked off the foundation, and everyone camped out in the front yard for some time–I’m not sure just how long. You see, I was not in San Fernando when it hit. I was not in California, not even in the good ole U. S. of A. I was stationed in Holland while in the Air Force. I think I heard about the quake the next day. So I didn’t get to enjoy the ride. I did feel the ’94 Northridge quake while in Lucerne Valley (near Victorvile), and then the Landers quake while in San Fernando. This is the first time I saw all the photos from the papers, so it is a good history lesson.
My family and I lived on Commonwealth Avenue between second and third streets in Los Angeles. I was just fifteen years old, a teenager out cruising the San Fernando Valley that night with my future brother In-law. We didn’t get home until 3:00am, so you can imagine how close we were to the center of the quake just hours earlier! WOW! I lived with my mom, Sister Joanne, Brother Carlos, and a baby sister that would turn one year old in a couple of days. It was 6:01am; we lived in a 2 bedroom apartment that rocked in this Earth Quake. My mom’s account of this quake was her lights flickering on and off, she thought for a moment the house was on fire. I looked out the window to see our fellow apartment goers, and in the street was a man with his family holding hands. They were from the Far East; I guess they were a custom to earth quake activity in their part of the world. They knew to get out of the house quickly. All I know is thank God we weren’t in San Fernando Valley when it hit. We were on those freeways near Sylmar.
The trimmers were so frequent, my mom decided to load up her 1955 Chevrolet and go to Las Vegas for one week until things cooled down. It was a three on the tree Chevy, and my mom could drive those cars with the best of them…
I was 16 in 1971, and I remember cruising Van Nuys Blvd on Wednesday nights and San Fernando Mall, but I don’t remember what night was cruise night for the S.F. mall. I didn’t actually go cruising until later that year until I turned 17.
When I was a young mother, I had a ’65 Ford Falcon Station Wagon with three on the tree, I loved that car, it was like a tank. I think we all wanted to do what your mom did and get the heck out of Dodge!
Hi, I ran across your account of the quake while writing a blog post of my own about that day.
Your memory is far more detailed than mine, so I found it very interesting to read the details you recorded. I lived in Newhall at the time and found the picture of the mountains behind the house you have posted quite fascinating. All of the photos and news items you have posted really take me back.
If you end up reading my post I hope you don’t get the impression I was in any way minimizing the horrors of that event. I initially started writing about my angst over Valentine’s Day and my earliest memory of it came flooding back.
Embes last blog post..My Love/Hate Relationship with Valentine’s Day….at [site]
Hi…and thanks for the comment on my blog. I was 16 in 1971, and you know teenage girls, they love the drama. The picture of the mountains behind the house was taken somewhere between Sylmar and Lake View Terrace above Foothill Blvd.
I enjoyed reading several of your blogs and your memory of driving through Pear Blossom on Hwy 138 is very accurate. They have pretty much smoothed out and widened all of 138 now, putting up traffic lights ta-boot, so it’s not the fun “roller-coaster” ride it once was. Since we moved to Pinon Hills the population has exploded from 3,100 to more than 6,000! We are in need of another grocery store!
Your idea about getting a puppy for Anna is really a pretty good one. We also had a yellow Lab, Old Dan, for 15 years. And the cats, puppies, and grand-children kept him young for years. Also for the gimping, have you tried giving her Glucossamine? It really helps. Our son named his dog, Old Dan after the book “Where the Red Fern Grows”. There was another dog in the book named Little Ann; I think it’s quirky that we have so many parallels…my husband thinks I’m quirky!
We were at the San Fernando Mall cruising, 53 Chevrolet Belair low rider with Rockets and 520X14 white walls, my brother in-alw had a 54 Chevrolet 2dr coupe with Craiger’s, and yes we were there. I don’t remember if anyone was there but we came all the way from Whittier Blvd. It’s was rare that we went to Van Nuys. We thought that it was for Hot Rod’ers. I don’t know why we deceided to go from East L.A. and the way to San Fernando. Huh! Oh well, those were the days…
My grandmother was in the Olive View Hospital, awaiting hip replacement surgery, when the quake hit. She said the lady in the next bed had just used the restroom, & flushed, when everything started shaking. The lady thought something she’d done had caused it, like exploding pipes or something. My grandmother immediately packed up her things, and headed out. Somehow, she made it down the staircase that was only partially detached. She was almost to the bus stop before someone caught up to her, and made her go back, to be transported to another hospital. That was a joke, she was put in the basement, on a gurney, and they had the audacity a few weeks later to send her a bill for her “room.” She slapped a Medi-Cal sticker on the bill, and mailed it back. She never heard from them again.
She would tell me this story often growing up, especially around another earthquake hitting (I personally experienced Whittier, Landers, & Northridge). It wasn’t until college, when I got a Geology professor who worked for the USGS ca. 1971, that I finally saw pictures of what my grandmother had described. She had been remarkably accurate, the pictures were very much what I envisioned. Seeing the actual pictures, though, and hearing the details of the earthquake, and its effects, made it frighteningly more real. A few seconds more shaking, or a stronger magnitude, may have meant never knowing my grandmother at all.
Hi April! What a great story and thank you for sharing it here! Your grandmother sounds like quite the brave soul and kept her wits about her! That was not me! My best best friend Alana Hahn and I became friends after the “Quake”. Her mother Marion Hahn worked at the hospital at that time, I don’t know if she was there when the quake hit or not. They also lost a family friend, he was traveling on or near a portion of the Freeway that collapsed.
I was 6 years old at the time and lived on Fenton Avenue just across from Harding Street Elementary. I was in a full-sized bed as opposed to a twin and this was a good thing because a large chest of drawers fell over and landed on the bed. Had I been on that side of the bed I’d certainly have been severely injured. My mom and dad gathered up my two older sisters and I and put us under their bed during the aftershocks. As soon as it appeared to be safe we all went out to the backyard where my dad set up our camping equipment since water had to be boiled before drinking it. We ate peanut butter sandwiches and watched as helicopters flew back and forth over our house while rescuing victims from the VA hospital. Some of our neighbors invited us over to their house for a barbecued steak dinner but my parents declined the invitation. That night the family slept in sleeping bags in the living room and it was decided that the next day we would pack up the station wagon and drive out to my mom’s parents’ house in Ohio to finish out the school year while my dad flew back home to clean up the house. We were lucky that our house stayed in tact for the most part. It was still livable. Like most homes I’m sure, the kitchen was a smelly disaster with all the cupboards and refrigerator emptied of all food and dishes. We returned home in mid-June, just in time for the Sylmar Tunnel explosion just down the street from us at Fenton and Maclay.
Interesting side note: while attending Sylmar High in 1981, a friend of mine took me to a hillside just north of Hubbard Street where debris from the VA hospital had been buried underground. When the rains came over the years, they washed off the topsoil and soon the debris became exposed. There were used needles, scalpels, IV tubing, bottles with blood still in them, glass syringes, all kinds of stuff that should have been removed from the scene rather than bulldozed over. Now there are houses built over that area. I sure hope they took the time to really clean it up before building began.
Hey Jeffery, good story, we used to live on Maclay a few houses down from Fenton, but we moved in 1967 and were down on 7th Street in San Fernando in 1971. I was 11, we and all our neighbors camped in our front yards the first night, I remember not sleeping very good, every time there was an aftershock I thought the leaning porch roof was going to fall on us!
My wife (GrammaLei) wrote this story and I have been meaning to share our family’s experience since and never have gotten around to it. Soon.