The only time I came close to experiencing a natural disaster first-hand was in 1971. I landed in Los Angeles a few weeks after the 6.6 magnitude Sylmar earthquake rattled the San Fernando Valley. At the time, my parents and sister lived in the valley suburb known as Tarzana (where MGM studios shot all those movies with Johnny Weissmuller as Tarzan back in the 1930s). I remember sitting in my folks’ living room a few nights after I’d arrived when I felt a faint vibration beneath me. I looked at my sister.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said casually. “Just an after shock.”