Ben Moffitt's story

The evening of the quake Ben Moffitt, 16, worked on his car at his family home on Archie Road near the Musk Ox Farm. As he worked under the car’s hood, the carport walls began to move back and forth. So did his car. He figured he should get out of there before he got squished. He wormed his way between the moving car and walls and approached the house to search for his mom and younger brother. Moffitt heard the crashing of dishes. He watched in awe as the fields undulated in “four foot swells like ocean waves. I could feel the movement up and down. The sound was unbelievable; a thunderstorm rumbling in the ground. Trees were lying over back and forth, like in a windstorm, but there was no wind.”

The house chimney broke halfway up and wobbled back and forth. Moffitt feared it would topple over onto the family’s brand new Rambler station wagon. Inside, the kitchen looked like someone deliberately emptied every cupboard. In the basement the furnace and water tank hung from their pipes where they had shaken loose.

A dark, sleepless night ensued, with continual aftershocks, and no power.

The Moffitt home experienced no lasting damage. He believes the chimney liner kept the cement blocks from falling. He noted the topography of their land changed; especially one lower contour, once seasonally muddy, is now level and dry.

Psychological affects remain longer lasting for Moffitt. He stays on high alert and claims to sense earthquakes before they happen, even very slight shaking, and usually well before other people. He awakes during the night when he feels jolts or tremors. “It was a once in a lifetime thing,” offered Moffitt. “It was like the end of the world.”