The ruins of San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake
When I first moved to California it seemed like no matter where I went or with whom I spoke, the same three-word phrase kept finding its way to my ears. Down on the Santa Cruz coast, beside glinting silver waves: The Big One. Up in Napa Valley, red wine on the tongue: The Big One. Even at the breakfast table in my new home, a friend’s apartment in San Francisco: The Big One.
“It could happen at any moment.”
“We’re long overdue.”
“It’s just a matter of time.”