Atlanta, GA
October 17, 2026
Thirty-seven years ago today I decided I’d move to San Francisco.
Like millions of Americans, I was watching the World Series. Moments before the third game, the earth shook…and the game was over.
I was a senior at Georgia Tech, finishing my degree in civil engineering. Before, after, and between classes, I worked at the local office of Greiner Engineering.
For better or bitter, I was helping scar the landscape by designing the Georgia 400 highway extension thru some of the nicest neighborhoods in Atlanta. My work wrapped up as the World Series began.
I guess I did well enough. After the quake, I was offered jobs near the epicenter to help fix the mess. When I graduated, Greiner sent me to Sacramento. A year later, I relocated to their office in the Bay Area.
Liars Dice and Friendly Politics
I worked in the East Bay hamlet of Pleasanton, and rented an apartment in Walnut Creek. But San Francisco beckoned. I was always in the City. One evening, I met two of the best friends I’ve ever had.
For whatever reason, I wandered into the Golden Gate Cafe in Cow Hollow. Beside me were two guys drinking beers, and rolling dice.
At that time, Liars Dice was still a big deal in San Francisco. I joined them for a few rolls. As dice and pints continued to pour, discussion fell to politics.
In the early 90s, such disputation wasn’t feared. But on that evening in San Francisco, I was surprised not to receive much opposition. My new friends and I were mostly on the same wavelength.
We’ve remained close to this day. One of them is godfather to our sons. Not long after we met, I moved across the bay, and the three of us became roommates in the Marina. Our place became something of a salon for weekend revelry.
Friends would join us every Sunday for wine, steak, and camaraderie. We’d argue vehemently…but amicably…about politics, religion, and philosophy.
Then we’d uncork another bottle, tell some jokes, and depart as friends who’d have similar debates the following week. It was great.
An Offer I Didn’t Refuse
When the California economy deteriorated in late 1992, Greiner gave me a choice. I could accept a position in their office outside Philadelphia.
“OK”, I said. “What’s my other option?”
“You can quit.”
“Oh.”
I didn’t realize that wasn’t already an option.
After careful consideration, I took their offer. I regretted it at the time. But in retrospect, I’m grateful they provided it.
I loved San Francisco, and knew no one in Philadelphia. I arrived as fall turned to winter. It was cold, grey, and awful.
Most of my depression derived from my own attitude. There was no reason I couldn’t make the best of whatever hand I’d been dealt. But I decided to fold before the game began. Fortunately, a new croupier arrived on the scene.
A friend informed me that someone she knew was moving to Philadelphia. This girl had earned a Masters in Industrial Engineering from Georgia Tech, and we’d apparently met before.
We had. I’ve already told that story. I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but meeting Rita changed my life. She gave me promise and purpose.
We married a couple years later, and returned to the city where this story started. I worked for the Golden Gate Bridge, one of the engineering marvels of the modern world.
Before we moved back, I’d considered getting my Professional Engineering license. My wife convinced me to get it. After I had it, I thought about an MBA. She told me to go for it. I did, and I got that too. If men need women who won’t underestimate them, I’d struck gold.
But I’ve never dug deep enough. As my wife often reminds me, there’s more to me than I’m aware. I just need to find it. That’s true of most of us.
The Earth Moved
The Loma Prieta earthquake ended sixty-three lives. But in a weird way, it jump-started mine.
Awful as it was, the temblor could’ve been worse. Eighty-three years earlier, it would’ve been. In 1906, San Francisco was afflicted by a quake and subsequent fires that consumed most of the city. But it rebuilt more beautiful that it’d previously been.
That doesn’t mean we commend catastrophe. But we should appreciate the resilience of those who survive it, and who bequeathed us the marvelous inheritance we enjoy today.
Recent years recalled how horrible hurricanes, floods, and fires can be. It’s only a matter of time before another earthquake reminds us how awful they are.
While we wait, we live amidst unacknowledged beauty every day. Many of us miss it because we take it for granted, seek its antithesis, or crave depressing voices that assure us it’s gone for good.
But I’m blessed to know they’re wrong. Because I have the pleasure of refuting them whenever I see the woman with whom I wake up each day.
Had the earthquake not happened, I wouldn’t have moved to San Francisco, nor later been transferred to Philadelphia. I’m eternally grateful for a terrible day thirty-seven years ago…when the earth moved, and my life changed.
JD
Good writing . You just left out one very important clue. Mine and Your Creator. Thanks for an up beat writing.
The civil engineering thread running through this is what got me — a Georgia Tech senior watching the World Series, and within a few years you're working on the Golden Gate Bridge itself because the quake rerouted your whole career. There's something fitting about a disaster that exposed infrastructure failures becoming the reason someone spent his life on infrastructure. And you're right that we don't commend catastrophe, but the 1906 comparison is apt: the measure of a city isn't whether the ground moves, it's what gets built after.