Northridge knocked me out of bed and I woke up on the floor.
Almost killed my friend, who just happened to move his bed away from the bookshelf the day before. The bookshelf smashed to the ground right where his bed had been.
We also had to dig my grandparents out of their house with shovels.
We got shovels and started digging, calling out their names. Finally got the back and found them sleeping in the pull out sofa! We packed some of their stuff and took them back to our house since we had minimal damage (despite being thrown from bed) and then went back later to survey the damage.
At that point people in the larger multi-family buildings had all evacuated and set up tents in the median strip on the main street (Ventura Blvd). Many of those buildings were condemned.
My neighbours - well, lets just say that by the time I got my senses together to go outside and inspect things, they'd already packed all their shit and their kids into the SUV and were moving back to Oklahoma that instant, no time to wait - they GTFO'ed out of California... their house wasn't even that damaged, apart from its chimney laying in the street, like every other brick chimney in the neighbourhood ..
Northridge was wild. I'll never forget the feeling of walking around Hollywood that morning, looking at the kitchen and toilet sections of apartment buildings that had their walls stripped off them, like some bear had ripped open a beehive to get to the goods ..
I could never sleep under a mirror for exactly that reason.