TOKYO, JAPAN - It was cold and windy Friday, pretty much like it's been for the last week. My husband, Jorge, was in his office and our children, Kelsey and Alexander, were at their school, the American School in Japan (ASIJ) about an hour west of the city. I was relaxing with a group at Tokyo Lawn Tennis Club, watching friends play their semi-final match in a club tournament.

At about 2:45 p.m., the clubhouse started to tremble slightly, but since tremors are fairly regular here, no one moved. Gradually, the tremor increased, and there were murmurs, but no movement. As it continued, someone jokingly commented, "Hey, do you think we should leave the building?" We all laughed until one of the coaches threw open the sliding door and yelled, "Yes! Now!" I saw the Japanese women get up and run so we knew it was stronger than usual. I don't even remember moving my legs, but somehow I was at the door and felt someone grab onto my arm, nearly hyperventilating "Oh God, oh God, oh God." We ran out together, into the middle of the four tennis courts, halting the match and confusing the players, who were so focused that they didn't even feel it. As we huddled with the crowd, you could feel a wave of movement building, but we all kept thinking it would subside. They always had.Then it hit.The ground shook so violently that cracks started to appear all over the clay courts. We had trouble standing and grabbed onto each other for stability. The Mori Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the city, was swaying slightly, but the 38 floor Roppongi Hills Apartment Tower, just in front of it, was violently swaying at what I swear was a 45 degree angle each way. One woman cried out, "My dog is in that building…oh God." I held hands with two friends and we kept saying, "OK, it'll stop soon, it'll stop soon."But it didn't, and to say it was terrifying would be a ridiculous understatement. It went on for about two minutes - with the ground shaking, and the court lights and buildings creaking and shuddering. There are a few mid size trees near the courts and they were shuddering like the Whomping Willow scene in the Harry Potter movie.Then, slowly it subsided. I must have been holding my breath because I exhaled sharply, then realized I'd dropped to my knees during the shaking to gain stability. I stood up, grabbed my phone from my pocket, and, like everyone else, started punching in numbers. Knowing that Kelsey and Alexander were in school at ASIJ and the procedures they have in place there, I was fairly sure that they'd be OK, but not certain. I was really worried about Jorge because his office is in a circa 1970 building. Of the four of us, I was in the safest place.Suddenly, out of nowhere, it started up again, not as violently as the first, but just as terrifying. Then it stopped, and seconds later started up again. It continued this pattern for hours and we'd later learn that there were 21 aftershocks of 4.5 or above in the two hours immediately following the massive one. It was surreal - you'd start to walk, suddenly feel yourself sway, and stop and wonder if it was you or the earth. Some of us felt nauseous - sort of like seasickness. We were all frantically trying to text, call, use landlines instead of cell phones, but nothing went through.Then someone yelled, "Hey, email works!" Unfortunately, depending upon your carrier, it was spotty. I managed to shoot two emails into cyberspace, but my Softbank account, which connects me to the Internet, timed out on all the others. Blessedly my friend Cate was at ASIJ, attending Parent/Teacher conferences and with amazing presence of mind, sent me easily the best email I've ever received - "I'm at ASIJ, your kids are OK."The relief hit me so hard I started tearing up, but somehow willed myself to stay calm because I had yet to hear from Jorge and I knew that if I lost control, I wouldn't get it back.Cindy, a friend and fellow player, saw me frantically punching at my phone."Kids are OK, you know that, right?""Yeah, thank God for Cate. But I haven't heard from Jorge. And he's in an older building."She put her arm around me and said, "See these old buildings here - they're still standing. So is his. He just can't get through to tell you."I sighed.She was right. And I was fairly sure our apartment building, Izumi Gardens, built in 2003 with a high-tech earthquake management system, would survive, but wasn't sure what the damage would be like. Poor Bella, our little labradoodle, was in there all by herself, and I wasn't sure if she was injured or worse.We heard chimes and someone said, "Shh. City loudspeaker." Tokyo has loudspeakers all over the city that chime every day at 5 p.m. Ostensibly, it's to tell the children playing that it's time to go home, but we expatriates always thought there was more to it. When you don't speak the language, there's a lot you can't confirm, but this was verification. A voice came on, speaking in Japanese, for about two minutes. We looked to the Japanese women to translate for us, but then we heard a word that caught our attention.Tsunami. We all understood that one.My phone suddenly chirped, making me jump, and emails started coming through from Tokyo friends.From Julie: "I'm in my apartment - is there anyone else in the building?"From Deb: "We've been evacuated from the Tokyo American Club."Then the server timed out and nothing.Someone yelled, "It was a 7.1," so we all hurried back into the clubhouse to check the news. We were frantically punching away at our phones and shouting to each other when we heard a voice say, "It's been upgraded." It was an older gentleman standing off in a corner. "They're saying it was 8.9."There was collective gasp, then a woman yelled, "Oh dear God!" I momentarily glanced up from my key, pounding to the TV screen just in time to see a huge tsunami plow through the farm land, eviscerating cars, houses, everything. Tears were running down everyone's face - it felt just like 9/11. You knew that you were watching people die. Our immediate instinct was to get out of there and get home immediately, but the club manager told us to wait a bit for things to calm down. He was concerned about falling debris.I felt a tap on my shoulder - my friend and neighbor, Diane."I don't know about you, but I need a drink," she said.I sighed and shook my head."Gave up wine for Lent," I replied."Ok. Vodka tonic? Beer?" she asked.I frowned. "I did mean alcohol," I answered."It was 8.9 - I think God's having a drink too," she quipped.My phone chirped again.From Julie: "Be prepared for damage - lots of stuff down in my apartment. I need a drink. Building still swaying."Again I began typing back but kept getting a "Message not sent" reply. I sat down and threw my phone on the table, frustrated and agitated. Diane came back with our drinks and handed me mine. I took a sip, put my beer back down on the table, sat back and stared, trying to stay collected and figure out what to do next. Slowly, the building began trembling again and the beer swayed gently back and forth in the glass. That was enough. About ready to jump out of my skin, I took a big swig, stood up and said, "I'm going home. I have to see if Bella's OK and I'm assuming that Jorge is headed there."Diane nodded and said, "I'm coming but I don't want to be alone in my apartment.""Ditto."Cindy had her car in the basement of the club and offered us a ride. Just as we were piling in, the building started shaking again."Close the door and let's go," she yelled. Then she threw the car into reverse, then forward, and we sped out. We hit traffic about halfway to our building, with the streets filled with cars and people, stopping in front of a convenience store. A line had begun to form outside, and it snaked down the block.Shocked, I said, "Already? Geez."Cindy nodded. "They're getting water."Traffic wasn't moving and, with all three of us staring at the line, Diane perked up and said, "Hey, do you want me to jump out and get us some?""I just went to the store - I've got plenty of stuff for all of us," Cindy replied. She was quiet, worried about her dog which was alone in her house.I thought of the vending machine down the hill from our building and commented, "Hey, we can always hit one of the vending machines if we're desperate." Tokyo has beverage vending machines on nearly every block. Always stocked and never vandalized. Some of them serve beer and wine.Cindy nodded. "Did you know that, if an earthquake hits, they're programmed to just drop beverages with no payment?"Brilliant engineering. The beer and wine were probably already empty.The whole day was very reminiscent of 9/11. People were stranded everywhere, pouring out of the nonfunctioning subway stations, and walking across bridges. We hopped out two blocks from our building and half walked/half ran the rest of the way. We arrived to see the lobby filled with our neighbors, their dogs, and kids running around. Our front desk is staffed with sweet young women, and I was impressed and relieved that they were so calm."Sachi-san," I asked. "Can we get upstairs?""Yes, but LouAnne-san, the elevators are out. You have to take the stairs," the woman said.Since we live on the 21st floor and Diane lives on the 29th, we knew that this was going to hurt. After shedding shoes, coats and a few layers of clothes on the way up, we made to the 20th floor."I'm going to check on Julie and bring her up with me," Diane said. "I'll be up in a minute."I nodded. The constant worry about Jorge had started to gnaw at me. Everyone had heard something from their spouse except me. Staring at the final flight of stairs in front of me, I consciously made one foot go in front of the other, until I reached the landing. Since there are several emergency stairways in our building, none of which we every used, it was momentarily disorienting when I opened the stairwell door. Luckily, the apartment was just a few feet away. I walked to the door, took a deep breath, put the key in the lock, twisted it and pulled.The place was dark - our apartment has doors to every room and every one of them had slammed shut during the shaking. I saw that our balcony door had slid open, probably at a high rate of speed, given the broken plastic and metal around it, and jammed itself tight. Drawers were opened, plates fell off shelves, and pictures were askew.I called and called for Bella, frantically opening doors to find her. It occurred to me that, for three days before the quake, she'd been wandering in and out of rooms, randomly barking, something she'd never done. I thought it was the outside construction and it had driven me nuts because she wouldn't stop. She must have been able to feel something we couldn't.I finally reached our bedroom, opened the door and was nearly knocked over by one terrified animal. Nearly everything had fallen off the dressers and the drawers were opened. She'd survived and, given the signals she was giving me, she also had to go to the bathroom. How on earth a dog ever held it through all that I'll never know.The tremors were coming about every few minutes and, I was nervous about going back downstairs by myself. Diane, Julie and I were going to head up to check on our neighbor, Michelle, who lives on the 27th floor. Her husband was stranded on Odaiba, just over the famous Rainbow Bridge, and, since that area is sea level and reclaimed land on the bay, the island was being evacuated. There were sporadic fires and she was terrified that a tsunami would hit as he was crossing the bridge.With no way to contact Diane and only Julie's cell phone number, I had no way to let them know what I was doing, and didn't have the presence of mind to write a note. Taking a chance, I picked up the landline to call Michelle, and after three attempts, it went through.She answered the phone, with a frantic, "Hello?! ""Hi Michelle, it's LouAnne. We were headed up to check on you - just so you know, I'm taking Bella out. Diane and Julie are on their way up. Would you tell them when they get there? I don't want to freak them out that I've gone missing or something," I said."Back down 21 flights - are you sure you want to do this?" she asked."I don't - but she does.""Call me when you get back, then come up for a drink. We're going to hang here and stay on top of the news. My apartment door is open. And remember to fill your bathtub.""Oh right." I am an idiot - I've had earthquake training and the three things you do are (1) Keep cash handy, (2) Have extra water and snacks, preferably in a backpack, and (3) immediately fill your bathtubs in case you needed drinking water for several days. By sheer luck, and overspending, I'd gone to the ATM earlier that day, but not to the grocery store. Well, two of out three would have to do. Our water runs slow and the tubs are huge soaking tubs, so I figured I could take Bella and turn them off when I got back. I clicked off the phone started the tubs and was about to leave when just then, my iPhone chirped.It was Jorge, lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. "I'm daijoobu (ok) - tried to call many times."Then, right after it, another text came through from an email address I didn't recognize right away. I stared for a minute, then realized it was Alexander's Softbank phone email."It's me, Kelsey. I'm with A on the bus - are you and Dad OK?" Her phone was sitting on the shelf in front of me, waiting for me to take it and have the battery replaced, since it wouldn't hold a charge. That item just leapt to the top of my to do list. Thank God Alexander had charged his phone. Even though, intellectually I knew they were OK, the darkness I felt had lifted when the message actually came from her.Tearing up - I typed a quick text back but it failed. I tried to resend it 10 times, but it kept failing. It was unnerving - texts and emails would go out and come in groups, sometimes an hour after they were sent.Bella and I descended the 21 flights, meeting neighbors along the way. I had to weave us through the traffic to get to her "bathroom," then we turned around and climbed back up the stairs. People were sitting on different landings, catching their breath, and I envied those living on the 10th floor or below - shorter climb and they'd get out way faster than we would if anything happened.I hung up her leash, picked her up and carried her into the living room. It was cold and the breeze was blowing full force through the broken door. Pulling the drapes closed, I dialed Michelle, told her I'd wait a bit for Jorge and sat down in front of the TV, dog in my lap. With the news getting more and more grim, I just wanted to see my family. Suddenly, the dog jumped out of my lap and I heard the door click open."Jorge? Jorge! " The dog beat me to him, and we both about knocked him off his feet."You ok?""I think so," he said. "Barely."He had been in a meeting in the bank's boardroom on the 19th floor, with 25 Japanese colleagues. When the room began to shake, they too thought it would subside, but then the translators behind the booth began screaming and they all dove under the boardroom table. The building shook so violently that he thought it was coming down. He felt something on his hand and looked up to see a Japanese colleague's hand gently closed on top of his. When the shaking stopped, everyone evacuated the building and, with the subway system down, just started walking home. His office is about five miles from home, about a 20-minute subway ride, but with the streets and sidewalks clogged with people, it ended up being about three hours walk. With everything uncertain, he'd walked out of his way to stay with his assistant, trying to convince her to stay with us for the evening, since it was likely that it would take several hours for her to get to her house. She'd refused. She just wanted to get home no matter how long it took.We'd received word that the kids were only a mile from the school after being on the bus for three hours because, with the major highways closed because of over and underpasses, the side roads were gridlocked. The constant tremors were making us all edgy, and I was ready to head up to Michelle's for support … and that drink. Jorge sat down at the computer and started banging away at the keys."Are you coming?" I asked."I'm emailing work. It'll be a bit. I'll meet you up there," he said.I started to leave, but heard a strange noise, like something running. The water! "Oh, geez!"Jorge looked startled. "What?""I left the tubs running!" I raced in, but miraculously only one had run over slightly, and the floor drain had caught it."I'll be up in a bit," Jorge reiterated, so I climbed the six flights alone to Michelle's floor. Opening the doorway into the hall, I saw an apartment with an open door and walked toward it. As I took my shoes off in the doorway, I set eyes on a suitcase with a coat neatly folded over the top, a handbag, and a flashlight. A fire extinguisher was lying on the floor, next to the kitchen doorway. The apartment was dark in the living room area, so I called out to her."Hello … Michelle?""We're all in here," she called back. "The TV in the living room fell over, but this one's ok." I saw her exit a room and she came out to give me a hug. I pointed to the suitcase and asked, "Uh, where exactly do you think you're going?"She shook her head. "I don't know. No where, I guess. I was here by myself, worried about my husband and realized I only have me to rely on. So I went into earthquake training mode. I packed, grabbed my passport, pulled out the fire extinguisher, clipped my flashlight to my belt, and put my whistle around my neck."It was the perfect response. Seemingly ridiculous now, but spot on right. It was the sight of the giant flashlight and the goofy whistle that, well, everything had been so awful up to this point, just took the edge off. We both had to laugh. "Ok," I said. "Guess who's just been elected our team leader."We ended up spending about an hour with other friends, watching the news and fielding emails. The apartment staff stopped by to check on things and we all hugged each other. Then Julie said, "Hey, just got an email from the kids. They're in Ometesando, they think about 20 minutes away." Jorge and I wanted to be there when they arrived home, so we hugged everyone goodbye and headed downstairs.About halfway there, I decided to continue going down and out to the local shops to see what I could rustle up for dinner. Friday night is pizza night with us, and Saturday is grocery day so we were critically low on supplies. On the 16th floor, a neighbor on his way up, relayed that the nearby Family Mart was completely empty. I headed instead for the 7-11, where I bought the last quart of milk and a "headache in a bottle" brand of wine in case the evening got worse. The entire place had been picked clean of everything else.I returned just ahead of the kids, who arrived home at 10:15 p.m., and were nearly smothered by us before the door closed. Once they began describing their day, a quiet panic hit me again. Kelsey had been in art class when the room started to shake, they got under the tables and watched the art supplies falling off the shelves. Alexander had been in Japanese when the quake began, and heard teachers in the hallways screaming, "Get under the tables, get under the tables." Needless to say, the kids complied.When the shaking subsided, the school immediately evacuated the kids to the football field, where they stayed for about an hour, then boarded the buses. The ride home, normally an hour, took six hours. As a mom, I was so glad they were together. The bus stopped at a convenience store for food and water, then immediately got back on the road. God bless those bus drivers, some of who were up all night driving those kids home and then turning the buses around to head back to the school. The school had sent an email saying that staff would stay there until the last bus returned and every child was accounted for. Those students who normally took the trains stayed with faculty members at their homes.We offered our extra room to a friend's work colleague, who gratefully accepted, since she lives in the next prefecture (county) and couldn't get home. Once the kids were in bed, I crawled in and pulled up the covers, but didn't sleep much at all. The continuous tremors made the building creak like an old house, there were periodic earthquake updates blasted over the public PA systems outside, and the dog was on my feet the entire night.And we are the lucky ones. We have our family safe, our home intact, and a way to communicate. Tokyo was inconvenienced but Sendai was decimated. Unfortunately, Alexander's pet gecko, didn't make it through. The little creature just couldn't handle it - the shaking and jarring literally scared him to death. And, as for me, I won't lie and say I'm not edgy or nervous - especially given the constant tremors and the giant floor-to-ceiling crack in the wall that ripped through the wallpaper in the kitchen.And believe me, I'm keeping a close eye on the dog.