earthquake When I felt the first one, I thought it may have just been a big semi driving down my street. But when the second one came, I was sure I was being awakened by an earthquake. Then came the next one; nothing to worry about—that was an after-shock, right? I’d paid attention in 9 a.m. geology during my sophomore year at Cal State Long Beach.

But then came another—an after-after shock? I must have slept through that class. And still another. They all felt the same, each about evenly spaced in time; these plate tectonics were acting in near-military precision.

I got out of bed and began to investigate what the hell was going on. I checked the Los Angeles Times website for any word on the never-ending earthquake apocalypse, tried to make sense of the maps on the U.S. Geological Services website, and even braved the Press-Telegram’s website in a search for answers. I couldn’t find any.

In between shakes, I daringly left my room and headed outside. As I opened the front door, a flyer that had been slipped into the jam fell and hit me on the foot. When I read it I didn’t know if I should be relieved or irritated.

This wasn’t plates shifting. It wasn’t nature running its course. My house wasn’t shaking as a precursor to The Big One. The reason my windows were rattling, bed rumbling and several neighbors freaking out was because of the Long Beach Geophysical Survey (LBGS).

The survey, conducted by Signal Hill Petroleum, uses massive trucks to send sound waves deep into the ground, retrieving seismic readings intended to gain better overall knowledge of fault lines and oil deposits. The project started on June 22, working its way down Redondo Ave., and has subsequently traversed a great deal of the city—bringing its man-made earthquakes to a good number of Long Beach residents. On the morning of July 26, it had finally reached me.

The LBGS website says its four trucks—they resemble a cross between a street sweeper and a garbage truck, with giant Tonka truck tires—produce “very subtle” acoustic waves, I’m thinking maybe like a Slayer acoustic album. But the results aren’t very subtle at all. As the trucks moved down Atherton Ave. and closer to my house, things started shaking pretty good. Not enough to break anything—I’m sure much to the dismay of people always looking for a reason to sue—but enough to put me on edge, worrying that our old house with its added-on exterior wasn’t enjoying the rumblings very much as it creaked and groaned.

Apparently, it could have been much worse, though. According to an article in the archives of the late District Weekly, this same survey was tried four years ago, but was halted among a bevy of complaints. During that initial test, the trucks were sending much more powerful waves in to the ground which were causing, shockingly, too powerful of man-made earthquakes resulting in claims of cracked walls, cracked foundations and other damage to the homes in the Wrigley area.

This new survey was supposed to last about 2 ½ weeks in my area, and I figured that late-July morning of earthshaking was it for me. But the man-made earthquakes were back this morning—the trucks were across the street on the Cal State Long Beach campus, again causing their shakings, again rattling my house and again severely cutting into my sleeping time.

I had begun to feel immune to earthquakes. My natural reaction had gone from duck-and-cover to sigh-and-wait-for-a-second-one. And then a third, just to be sure. Once you feel the fourth, you can be calm, knowing you are in the clear—well, as clear as having your house shake intermittently for a few hours can be.

I understand this is for science. I understand that they are using “receptive nodes” to pick up data that results from the acoustic waves. Actually, I don’t  understand it at all. Maybe my geology course should have had a unit about man-made quakes.