Coping with the aftermath can be a disaster, too, for people with disabilities.
By Jim Hammitt
My God, this is the BIG ONE!” was my first thought as I was jolted awake by the roaring and shaking of the Northridge earthquake at 4:31 a.m. on January 17, 1994. My wife and I forgot about the luxury of a couple of extra hours of rest because of the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, as we faced the real possibility of being trapped and crushed in our brick-lined bedroom. It sounded as if the roof was coming off while the room …