I stepped off of the plane in Philadelphia and the jetway lurched just a little bit, as it sometimes does.
A few minutes later, though, when I was standing in Terminal F waiting for the last member of our party to deplane I felt a similar shake once again. Only this time it didn’t stop. My first thought was that, like the jetway, the terminal was shuttering. But in the same thought I realized that I was on solid ground.
It wasn’t until somebody muttered, “EARTHQUAKE!” that I realized that it was, indeed, an earthquake. A 5.8 at it’s epicenter. My first. In Philadelphia. I didn’t see that one coming.
But I sure felt it.