Imagine it's just past 5 a.m. on April 18th, 1906.

You're a sergeant with the San Francisco Police Department's Chinatown Squad, nearing

the end of your overnight shift.

It's a cool, clear morning, and a light breeze kicks up as you step up in front of Levy's

market on Washington Street in the wholesale produce district.

The proprietor's son, Sidney Levy, is out front arranging boxes of carrots and onions.

Then the street begins to fill with other workers stacking fruits and vegetables.

You take off your hat and lead against a crate of asparagus.

A horse hits to a wagon out front, begins naying, stamping its hooves and shaking its head.

And then suddenly, you feel the ground beneath you shift, followed by a deep rumbling sound.

Oh, you feel that?

After 10 years on the beat, you felt earthquakes before.

This isn't too unusual, but then the rumbling gets louder.

This is going to be a dandy.

For a moment, you try to just enjoy the ride.

But then you look up Washington Street, can't believe your eyes.

The entire thoroughfare has turned into an undulating wave and is coming straight at you.

All along Washington Street, shops and houses rip apart and collapse.

The pavement below you suddenly splits open.

You point to the archway of a one-story building across the street and yell to Sidney to follow

you.

It's there, Sidney pants with fear, trying to reassure.

...