[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 1 (Tuesday, January 25, 1994)]
[Senate]
[Page S]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: January 25, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
                      THE CALIFORNIA QUAKE OF 1994

  Mrs. FEINSTEIN. Mr. President, I would like to take a few moments to 
report on the tragic 6.6 earthquake that struck southern California 
just 8 days ago. I know my colleague, Senator Boxer, will also want to 
speak. We were both able to fly over the earthquake area, to visit the 
rubble in Northridge, Santa Monica, Hollywood, and all throughout the 
San Fernando Valley. I visited shelters and schools.
  The harsh reality is that more people were left homeless by the 
Northridge earthquake than by Hurricane Andrew, which until now was 
considered the worst natural disaster in modern American history.
  Now, those who lost homes, businesses, and loved ones turn to the 
Federal Government and to this Congress, as well as to the State, for 
assistance.
  Let me talk about the damage caused by the earthquake. This was a 
newly discovered fault which had a lateral thrust up on the two 
converging plates. This resulted in sudden and very strong vertical 
acceleration so that the damage that was done was considerably higher 
than other 6.6 earthquakes. The epicenter was in the heart of an urban 
area for the first time. The devastation is worse than the 7.1 Loma 
Prieta earthquake in 1989, or any earthquake in California, with the 
possible exception of the 1906 San Andreas temblor in San Francisco.
  In the last 8 days, there have been 2,500 aftershocks, each one 
rendering more damage, and some of them close to 5 on the Richter 
scale. Hospitals such as St. John's in Santa Monica have been 
condemned. Freeways were closed, including the one freeway that carries 
more people than any other in America--350,000 people a day.
  After 8 days, here are some statistics: 57 people dead; of 20,000 
buildings inspected, 1,057 structures, including about 13,000 dwelling 
units, have been declared uninhabitable, and this is less than half of 
the buildings that need inspection; 9,000 people have been treated for 
injuries, and 1,241 hospitalized.
  In excess of 20,000 people, I estimate, are homeless. More than 
14,000 have been given shelter in tents erected by the Army and the 
National Guard; in shelters operated by the Red Cross and the Salvation 
Army; and with supplies from volunteer organizations.
  As many as four hospitals have been closed and 10 percent of the 
hospital beds in the area cannot be used. These are St. John's, the 
Panorama-Kaiser Hospital, the U.S. Veterans Affairs Medical Center in 
Sepulveda, and the Los Angeles County/USC Psychiatric Pavilion.
  As many as 76 schools will not open today because of the earthquake. 
As a result, 65,000 students who attend these schools will stay home 
today.
  There is a great need for Federal assistance.
  According to the Federal Emergency Management Agency, the need for 
assistance--particularly housing assistance--is even greater than 
Hurricane Andrew.
  In 1 hour alone, FEMA received 15,000 calls for help which it could 
not answer. To date, 99,000 applications for assistance have been filed 
with FEMA.
  Initially, FEMA set up 11 disaster assistance centers. I sent members 
of my staff to each site, where they have helped  cut redtape, 
responded to human needs, and alerted me of progress.

  These centers were initially overwhelmed by demand. FEMA has been 
flexible, and they have ironed out problems. They have extended hours. 
There will be 16 centers by the end of today located in Northridge, 
Santa Monica, Tarzana, Santa Clarita, Sylmar, Simi Valley, Van Nuys, 
Fillmore, Hollywood, Sherman Oaks, Calabasas, San Fernando, Glendale, 
and three in Los Angeles.
  The early damage estimates range from $15 billion to $30 billion. But 
it is still too early to know the full extent of the damage since much 
of the damage will only be known once full structural surveys have been 
completed.
  I would like to compliment the administration, particularly the 
President, who took the time to fly out to see the damage firsthand; 
Secretary Cisneros, who is still in southern California and who has 
made 10,000 section 8 housing vouchers available which provide rental 
assistance for 1\1/2\ years.
  Secretary of Transportation Pena was out there to bring in additional 
rail cars for the Metrolink system which provides rail transportation 
from the affected areas to Los Angeles.
  I would like to thank FEMA Director James Witt, who is still in the 
region, for his hands-on authority. FEMA has responded. They have 
responded with alacrity.
  I want to thank the mayor of Los Angeles, Mayor Riordan; the Governor 
of the State of California, Pete Wilson; and his emergency operations 
director, Dick Andrews.
  This has been a true bipartisan effort to respond. And now our job is 
to keep it that way because this morning Leon Panetta, the Director of 
the Office of Management and Budget, met with the California 
congressional delegation, and right at this time he is announcing that 
a supplemental appropriations bill will be proceeding forthwith through 
the House of Representatives.
  The figures in this supplemental--and I want to stress this, because 
the Governor of California has just called--can be amended. I know the 
Governor has spoken to the Republican leader indicating his concern 
that an early supplemental will not reflect the true nature of the 
vastness of the devastation.
  The fact of the matter is that the supplemental can be amended as it 
moves through the process and as figures are cleared. The 
administration has also indicated their commitment to do just that.
  I have spoken directly with chairman of the Appropriations Committee, 
Robert C. Byrd, who has assured me of his 100-percent support to move 
the supplemental appropriations bill forward as rapidly as possible. We 
very much appreciate the Senator's support.
   I also spoke with my chairman on the HUD/VA Subcommittee, who spoke 
with singular enthusiasm, as only Senator Mikulski can, about her 
willingness to see that that subcommittee responds promptly and with 
alacrity. I also appreciate her support.
  As a member of the Appropriations Committee, I will do everything I 
possibly can to see that funds are expedited and that they are adequate 
once they reach the committee.
  Yet, the Federal Government alone cannot possibly secure all of the 
funds necessary for a full recovery. I believe it is critical that the 
State of California put together a fair-share plan whereby all State 
resources--bond issues, tax increases, if necessary--are used to assist 
in the recovery.
  Anything short of a full partnership between the State and the 
Federal Government will not be sufficient to meet this tremendous need.
  Immediately following the disaster, as you know, FEMA pays 100 
percent of the cost of the first 72 hours, and the President extended 
this for 5 additional days. From that point on, it is usual for FEMA to 
pay 75 percent and the local jurisdiction 25 percent. The 
administration has waived this, and so the match will be 90-10. That is 
very helpful to the hard-pressed State of California.
  While the first priority of government is to provide emergency 
assistance for the disaster, I also believe it is incumbent upon all 
California officials to reevaluate the building code. In both Loma 
Prieta and this earthquake, I observed where wood frame construction 
was not adequate, and the loss of life in housing, both in Loma Prieta 
as well as in this earthquake, came in wood frame construction. And so 
improvements need to be made and codes need to be updated.
  It has also been reported that only 25 percent of Californians have 
earthquake insurance because of the high cost of premiums and the high 
deductibility. It is incumbent upon us, I believe, to produce 
legislation to mandate affordable earthquake insurance. Senator Boxer 
and I will work together in that regard, and the administration has 
made the secretary of the cabinet available as a point person to help 
us in that effort.
  But throughout this tragedy, what has been the most amazing, has been 
the people. This is just remarkable. Volunteers of the Salvation Army 
reported immediately to work, despite the fact that their homes were 
demolished. Corporate Citizens donated food, tents, supplies. 
Firefighters and police from Los Angeles and from the neighboring 
communities worked around the clock.
  The amazing resilience and the determination of people came through 
over and over again. In a crisis, people who have never ever asked for 
a handout for the first time came for help. I saw one elderly woman in 
her eighties whose husband had just died, who was standing outside of a 
shelter, homeless, saying, ``What will I do now? How will I be able to 
live? First my husband and now this.''
  I ask unanimous consent that a copy of a recent Los Angeles Times 
story be printed in the Congressional Record.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

              [From the Los Angeles Times, Jan. 24, 1994]

   Tragedy Before Dawn--Earthquake Was Merciless, Indiscriminate in 
                          Claiming Its Victims

 (By J. Michael Kennedy, Sheryl Stolberg, Marc Lacey, Doug Smith, and 
                             John Johnson)

       The numbers kept climbing as first the hours, then the 
     days, slipped by.
       The names of the dead.
       The young, the old. Businessmen and homemakers. An ex-con 
     on Skid Row. A 4-year-old girl who loved frilly skirts and 
     pink cowboy boots. More than 50 in all.
       Roughly a third were in a single apartment complex whose 
     upper two floors collapsed. One couple died when their vast 
     collection of books and model trains fell on them as they 
     slept. An electrician died when he picked up a high voltage 
     wire draped across a car, an act of heroism turned to 
     tragedy.
       A woman may have literally died of fright as she rushed to 
     check on her infant son. In the dark, a motorcycle policeman 
     did not see where the temblor had opened a gash in an 
     overpass.
       Most of the victims were still in bed when Monday's quake 
     shook the earth at 4:31 a.m. with unrelenting anger. Others 
     risked danger to help someone else. Together, they were the 
     grimmest statistics in this, one of the costliest disasters 
     in U.S. history.
       Here are some of their stories.


              youngest victim had a last beautiful weekend

       Amy Tyre-Vigil.--It had been, in Anastacio Vigil's words, 
     ``a beautiful weekend.'' His wife, Nancy Tyre, and 4-year-old 
     daughter, Amy, had gone to a concert. He had taken Amy on a 
     bike ride. The whole family had gone to the zoo. And Amy had 
     sampled her first meatball Sunday night.
       Vigil and Tyre, both 40, had chatted happily about the 
     future, about the second baby, a boy, on the way, about the 
     new house they were going to buy once their Sherman Oaks home 
     sold. Tyre, who like her husband is a family-practice doctor, 
     told a friend she looked forward to having a bigger place 
     when the baby came.
       All of that, gone in an instant. Amy was buried Friday 
     afternoon, the youngest victim of the temblor. More than 200 
     mourners said goodby to the dark-haired girl who loved her 
     artwork, her nursery school, and chocolate chip cookies 
     without nuts.
       Her mother was not among those present. Instead, a rabbi 
     went to Valley Presbyterian Hospital to join Tyre, seven 
     months pregnant and bedridden with a broken pelvis, in 
     reciting Yizkor, the Jewish prayer for the dead.
       Amy was crushed when the earthquake sent her home hurtling 
     down its hillside, collapsing it into a flattened wreck of 
     wood and stucco, tile and glass. Her father does not remember 
     much about what happened.
       ``It felt like somebody picked up the house and just 
     violently shook it. Nancy said, `Get Amy!' As I was getting 
     up there was a big flash of light and a terrible crashing 
     sound. The next thing I remember, I was trapped.''
       In the darkness, pinned under boards, able only to wiggle 
     his right foot, Vigil heard his wife moaning that she could 
     not breathe. He listened for his daughter, but heard nothing. 
     The silence worried him. He concentrated on trying to calm 
     his wife. ``Breathe slowly,'' he told her. ``Breathe slowly. 
     We're going to be OK.''
       The couple lay there for at least an hour on the ground 
     amid the ruins, too far away to touch one another, talking as 
     they shivered in the cold. Finally, they heard voices. It was 
     the neighbors, venturing outside for the first time.
       It took an hour for the rescue workers to pick their way 
     through the rubble. They freed Vigil first. ``I felt a human 
     hand on my leg,'' he said, ``and it was just the most 
     beautiful feeling.''
       He suffered a broken rib, and injuries to his leg and jaw, 
     but he told the doctor who treated him at Sherman Oaks 
     Hospital that he could not stay, that he needed a taxi. He 
     had to find his wife and daughter. Sit down, the doctor told 
     him. He would make some calls.
       The emergency physician learned that Tyre and Amy had been 
     taken to Valley Presbyterian. He also learned what had 
     happened to Amy. Gently, he told Vigil that his daughter had 
     been killed. Though the crisis was mounting at his own 
     hospital, the doctor drove Vigil to see his injured wife.
       Tyre looked better than he expected. And the baby would be 
     fine.
       He grabbed her, held her close, and whispered the wrenching 
     words: ``We lost her.''


           and her son will really not have known her at all

       Elizabeth Brace.--Earthquakes terrified Elizabeth Brace. As 
     a young girl, her family's home had been heavily damaged by 
     the Sylmar quake in 1971. Her husband, Thomas, said there was 
     a certain way she acted when the earth rumbled, a kind of 
     tenseness until the shaking stopped and the danger passed.
       At the time of their marriage, he was 43, she 31. They had 
     set about quickly to begin a family. Elizabeth had quit her 
     job when Michelle was born five years ago, followed by 
     Christopher 3\1/2\ years later.
       Three years ago, the Braces moved to Rancho Cucamonga in 
     San Bernardino County. They wanted a bigger house and a 
     decent school district. Elizabeth had become a Scout leader 
     when Michelle was old enough to be a Daisy. She volunteered 
     as a room mother a couple of days a week when Michelle 
     started kindergarten this year.
       It was the good life in a quiet, suburban way.
       There was little to make Sunday evening apart from others. 
     Elizabeth had an appointment Monday morning. She was trying 
     to earn some extra money while working at home and was 
     thinking of doing the billing for a local doctor.
       And then, before dawn, the quake hit.
       The couple held each other in those first frightening 
     moments. They did it instinctively because of Elizabeth's 
     fears. Then, a few seconds later, she got up and raced for 
     Christopher's room. Thomas went to Michelle's.
       What Thomas remembers next was a loud noise in the next 
     room. Not a cry. More like something falling.
       ``She was just lying on the floor,'' said Thomas, a 
     computer programmer. ``She was unconscious and bleeding from 
     the nose and mouth. I tried CPR but I don't think I did a 
     good job of it. I'm not trained for that kind of thing.
       ``I called 911 and when I came back she was still,'' Thomas 
     said. ``I couldn't feel a pulse.''
       Paramedics arrived in minutes, but could not revive her.
       Early on, there was speculation that Elizabeth, 37, may 
     have died when she tripped on a toy.
       The San Bernardino coroner's office said it would take at 
     least six weeks for the test results. Deputy Coroner Gabriel 
     Morales said fright as a cause of death, perhaps in the form 
     of a huge adrenal rush, is not being ruled out.
       That's what Thomas suspects: ``If I were to speculate, I 
     would guess she died of fright and panic.''
       Thomas, sitting on his living room couch a few days after 
     the earthquake, worked hard to hold back his tears as he 
     talked about his wife and how good their life had been.
       ``She was such a terrific mother and had gotten the job of 
     raising the children started so well,'' he said. ``And her 
     son will really not have known her at all.''


        son wrote his epitaph: ``if it weren't for fate * * *''

       Howard and James Lee.--Just weeks before his death, Howard 
     Lee wrote his epitaph.
       ``If it weren't for fate, I might be somewhere else,'' the 
     14-year-old boy wrote in an autobiography for school entitled 
     ``My Life.''
       The sentence proved as cruelly ironic as anything connected 
     with the quake. Howard was killed in his bed, a Golf digest 
     he had been reading close at hand.
       Rescurers who arrived at the Northridge Meadows apartments 
     could still hear Howard--a tall, always-smiling boy who was 
     thinking of becoming a priest--calling out from the ruins of 
     Apartment 101. Around him in the darkness, 15 other people 
     died in the building collapse. Among them was his father, 
     Pil, 46, trapped in the bathroom where he had been brushing 
     his teeth before heading off to work as an RTD mechanic.
       ``Help me! Help me!'' Howard shouted.
       Rescuers kept telling the voice to hold on, just a little 
     longer. But the building had shifted 10 feet to the north 
     when it collapsed and they could not locate them, even with 
     the help of Howard's mother, who had been pulled from the 
     wreckage earlier, along with her other son, 12-year-old 
     Jason. Finally, they found a pillow and showed it to Hyun 
     Lee, who said, yes, that belonged to Howard, whom she 
     affectionately called her ``big son.''
       Then they found him.
       ``This son is dead, ma'am,'' said the firefighter. ``He is 
     dead.''
       Hyun Soon Lee, a deeply religious woman with a cascade of 
     rich black hair, burst into tears, letting go of the thin 
     thread of hope she had held onto for four house. ``Can I see 
     him?'' she asked, Hours later, her husband's body was brought 
     out, the last recovered from the ruins.


          Ex-Con Had a Temper, but He Was a ``FUN-Loving Guy''

       Jose Louis Hernandez.--The initial news reports were 
     sketchy: A mentally ill ex-convict had either jumped or 
     fallen from a Skid Row flophouse during the quake. Good 
     Samaritan Hospital called him John Doe No. 17 and said he 
     died of head injuries caused by a very long fall.
       The police report provided a bit more information: He lived 
     in Room 610 of the Frontier Hotel. His window had been open. 
     He was found by police lying on his back on the sidewalk, 
     wearing only blue boxer shorts.
       A down-and-out drifter when he died, Jose Louis Hernandez 
     had a hearty laugh, a violent temper and a long criminal 
     record. He also had four sons, a daughter and a 
     granddaughter, although he had been out of touch with his 
     family for two years.
       ``He had a temper but he was a good man,'' said his niece, 
     Eileen Moreno. ``He was a fun-loving guy.''
       Just out of state prison, the 49-year-old Hernandez settled 
     into a studio at the Frontier, a once-grand hotel at Main and 
     5th streets that had fallen victim to the grittiness around 
     it. Across the street from two porn theaters and a liquor 
     store, the Frontier charges $11.99 a night.
       A childhood friend, John Seanez, used to joke with 
     Hernandez about his short, pudgy build. Growing up on the 
     Eastside in the 1950s, Seanez and Hernandez were homeboys, 
     partying together and once getting thrown off a city bus for 
     guzzling beers.
       ``He was a pretty good guy when we were young,'' said 
     Seanez, who also lives at the Frontier.
       But Hernandez drifted from his friends and drifted from his 
     family. He also drifted in and out of jail. Since 1962, he 
     served time for resisting arrest, petty theft, possession of 
     heroin and cocaine, driving while intoxicated, assault with a 
     deadly weapon and hit and run.
       He once threatened a hotel employee's life when his toilet 
     got clogged. But he also said ``thank you'' after picking up 
     his mail. He sometimes heard voices and was taking 
     psychotropic drugs for his condition.
       His parole officer, Robert Humphrey, had no problems with 
     Hernandez. Since leaving prison on Thanksgiving, Hernandez 
     had reported regularly, found a place to live and applied for 
     government aid.
       Said Humphrey: ``He was doing pretty good on parole, up 
     until his recent demise.''


          Officer ``Was Quick to Help and That NEVER Changed''

       Clarence Wayne Dean.--Minutes after the earthquake hit, 
     Clarence Dean was putting on his uniform. He was a motorcycle 
     cop.
       He had spent more than half his life with the Los Angeles 
     Police Department, graduating from the academy in 1968 after 
     four years in the Marines. He had worked the streets--first 
     as a patrol officer and later as a motorcycle cop--for nearly 
     25 years.
       A colleague said his blond hair ``always looked like he had 
     just taken his helmet off.''
       On the morning of the earthquake, Dean was not scheduled to 
     start work until 7 a.m., but the temblor apparently jolted 
     him out of bed. The 46-year-old officer left his Lancaster 
     home and headed for work on his motorcycle, blue lights 
     flashing in the night.
       As he drove south in the darkness, he rounded a bend on an 
     Antelope Valley Freeway interchange. Dean and his motorcycle 
     plunged 30 feet from the roadway, which had been severed in 
     the quake. As he fell, the lights of the motorcycle continued 
     to flash.
       ``No one called him, no one made him come in that 
     morning,'' said Danny Staggs, president of the Los Angeles 
     Police Protective League, who knew Dean. ``He was doing this 
     to help people.''
       Dean, the divorced father of two children, was remembered 
     as a gregarious man who was quick with a joke or a story.
       ``He was quick to work and quick to help and that never 
     changed,'' Sgt. Rod Grehek said. ``You wonder what was going 
     through his mind those last few seconds.''


          If Anyone Needed Help, Kevin Was the First to Offer

       Kevin C. Maher.--A grim reminder of one quake tragedy is 
     burned into the ground.
       On a grassy patch at Murietta Avenue and Valleyheart Drive 
     in Sherman Oaks, two charred footprints show exactly where a 
     downed power line electrocuted Kevin C. Maher.
       The line was dangling over a car with a young child inside; 
     the distraught mother stood nearby. Maher a 25-year-old 
     electrician who grew up in Ireland, ran back to his apartment 
     for tools. He ignored the warnings of others at the scene.
       ``People were yelling at him, `No! Don't touch it!''' said 
     James Pianezzola, 30, who saw the whole thing. ``He turned 
     around and said, `Don't worry, I'm an electrician.' But as 
     soon as he touched the line, his body went stiff as a 
     board.'' (The child was snatched from the car by another 
     onlooker.)
       Maher, who was from Carrick-on-Shannon and never lost his 
     brogue after 10 years in the U.S., was hailed as a hero in 
     Ireland, his death making the front pages of the dailies back 
     home. In the San Fernando Valley, his friends recalled him as 
     a generous man who died doing what he always did.
       If anyone needed help, Kevin was the first to offer,'' said 
     Paula Shields, a friend who lived in the same apartment 
     complex.
       ``The Irish community always comes together when something 
     like this happens,'' said Kathleen Harney, Maher's sister. 
     ``We're all far away from home so we stick close together out 
     here.''


        Couple Labored Hard to Earn Their House on the Hillside

       Marc Yobs and Karen Osterholt.--Marc Yobs was going places. 
     Just ask anyone who knew him.
       He was 32 and on top of his game. Good-looking, with a 
     caring way and easy grin, he had accomplished the nearly 
     impossible early in his career, getting a foot in the door 
     into Hollywood with nary a connection. Now, he was handling 
     some of the industry's biggest accounts for The Post Group, 
     which does sound and special effects for film. His bosses had 
     recently promoted him.
       ``There's a lot of phoniness and glad-handing in 
     Hollywood,'' said Kristen Ralph, the company president. 
     ``Marc never had that kind of self-opinion. He was confident, 
     and very bright, and quite sure of his own abilities. But he 
     was not one of the let's-do-lunch types.''
       Two years ago, Yobs bought the house of his dreams: a 
     $400,000 hillside home in Sherman Oaks, with a sweeping view 
     of the San Fernando Valley, where he grew up. He shared it 
     with Karen Osterholt, 30, his girlfriend of nine years.
       The place was a showpiece. Yobs was meticulous about 
     maintaining it, as he was about everything else in his life. 
     Osterholt had a flair for decorating, and she filled it with 
     antiques. If he was the go-getter, she was the quiet power 
     behind him. She was with him when he had nothing, supporting 
     him with her earnings as a waitress while he struggled to 
     climb the Hollywood ladder.
       The house made Waldrop nervous, no matter how many times 
     her daughter assured her it was safe. It was 30 years old and 
     had survived both the Sylmar and the Whittier Narrows quakes. 
     But fears of a temblor must have passed through Yobs' mind, 
     because a year ago he bought earthquake insurance.
       In 10 seconds, it came crashing down, taking them with it. 
     They were to be buried side by side.
       There is nothing left of the Sherwood Place house. It is a 
     pile of twisted metal and wood. The homes to the right and 
     left, built at the same time, by the same builder, according 
     to Dave Yobs, are still standing. Uninhabitable, but 
     standing. ``Why his house?'' Dave Yobs said tearfully. ``With 
     all those homes, why his?''


      If There Is a Bright Spot . . . It's That They Went Together

       Robert Pauline and Judith Ng.--When they met at Riverside 
     City College in the early 1970s, Robert (Sarge) Pauline had 
     just retired from a 20-year career with the Chula Vista 
     Police Department. Judith Ng, 30 years younger, was just out 
     of high school.
       The couple married, beginning an eccentric life together.
       ``In the beginning the whole family was against the 
     situation,'' said one of Ng's brothers, Kenneth. ``We 
     thought: `What was this old guy doing with our sister?' But 
     over the years, we've come to love him like family. It was 
     unique but it was right for them.''
       The couple squirreled themselves away in their Van Nuys 
     home, inviting neither friends nor family inside. In this 
     neat suburban neighborhood, they had shrubs and vines 
     shielding their house from the street. Inside, their living 
     quarters were unconventional as well.
       They were avid collectors. Everywhere, there were stacks of 
     old letters, out-of-date calendars, model trains, stereo 
     equipment and cameras.
       When the earthquake hit, neighbors and relatives became 
     concerned about the mysterious pair. Their house survived but 
     there was no word from Ng, 42, or Pauline, 72. The next day, 
     authorities entered their Kittridge Street home and 
     discovered the couple in bed, crushed by hundreds of pounds 
     of their own collectibles.
       ``If there is a bright spot to this,'' said Ng's sister, 
     Kathy Ng Norwood, ``it's that they went together.''

  Mrs. FEINSTEIN. This article describes the victims, Mr. President, 
who lost their lives in the initial hours of the earthquake. Everybody 
knows somebody who was affected; 57 people died, but among them was a 
4-year-old by the name of Amy Tyre-Vigil. Her father described the 
weekend before the earthquake as ``a beautiful weekend.'' He had taken 
Amy on a bike ride. The whole family had gone to the zoo. Amy had 
sampled her first meatball Sunday night. Amy's parents had chatted 
happily about the future, about a second baby, a boy, on the way, about 
the new house they were going to buy once their Sherman Oaks home sold, 
and that was gone in an instant on Monday. Amy was crushed to death 
when the earthquake sent her home hurtling down a hillside, collapsing 
the home into a flattened wreck of wood and stucco, tile and glass.
  For the victims of the earthquake, for the parents of 4-year-old Amy 
Tyre-Vigil, the time for action is now. I look forward to working with 
my colleague, Senator Boxer, and my colleagues in the Senate of the 
United States, on the Federal Government's response to set a new 
standard for all future emergency recovery efforts. I thank all of 
those from Washington who have cared so much about the State of 
California and responded so positively.
  I thank the Chair and I yield the floor.
  The PRESIDENT pro tempore. Under the order, the Senator from 
California [Mrs. Boxer] is recognized for not to exceed 10 minutes.

                          ____________________