Andrew and I were in the gift shop at the National Aquarium in Baltimore, when suddenly the glass trinkets and jewelry began to dance. Unlike many Washington-area residents, who automatically thought "terrorist attack" when the building started shaking, my first thought was "earthquake." It was only a few seconds later that I began thinking that maybe a plane had flown into the Aquarium's glass-pyramid top or that the building had been rammed by a ship. Whatever. The staff told everyone go outside immediately. The quake was certainly a conversation-changer between Andrew and me about buying a $35 amphibious shark that goes "anywhere you want, on land or in water."
Once outside, we passed a cluster of Aquarium employees, probably from food service. Some of the women were crying. I said, "Don't worry. It was just an earthquake."
"Just an earthquake?!" laughed one.
"Well, yes, " I said, "It could have been a plane."
One of the women continued to sob. "Don't worry," I said, "We're going to be OK."
This morning I realized that perhaps she was crying because she thought her job was in danger. The glassy Aquarium looks like the world's most fragile building. For all she knew, the Aquarium might have to close for weeks or months. Everyone was kept out of the building for 45 minutes while it was checked for structural damage.
The building appeared sound, so we were let back in. Some interior glass shattered in the "Australia" exhibit of the Glass Pavilion, so that exhibit was closed. Andrew pressed the staff person at the cordoned-off escalator about the safety of the fruit bats in the exhibit. The man assured Andrew that they were probably all right, but I could see that the question made him uncomfortable. He quickly changed the subject. "I was talking to the people down at the dolphin tank, and they told me that the sharks began swimming around like crazy just before the quake hit."