On the morning of Jan. 17, 1995, I was jolted awake in my Kyoto apartment by the largest earthquake I'd ever experienced. The glass windows shook violently, but thankfully didn't break.
Before going back to bed, I turned on the TV I'd pulled out of the trash (this was before recycle centers were common, and many a foreign resident saved oodles of cash by hauling away used, or not-so-used, chairs, sofas, tables, stereos, and TVs put out by the curb). The picture was fuzzy (it did come from the trash). But it was clear a major quake, which would later be dubbed the Great Hanshin Earthquake, had struck the Kobe area.
I was working for a rival newspaper at the time and did what any reporter would do: I took off for Kobe. That was easier said than done. Trains between Kyoto and Osaka (where you had to transfer to get to Kobe) were spotty. I finally made it to just east of central Kobe that evening, walking the last few kilometers.