... my grandma after.
My great aunt remembered getting lost while shopping with her mom in the ad-hoc markets set up in the aftermath of the earthquake.
She was found playing with some black kids, remembered having a wonderful time, and the racist horror of the adults when she was found.
My great grandparent's house survived the earthquake, as did much of my great grandfather's business. My grandma and her sister had what was then considered an upper middle class lifestyle. Their parents largely protected them from any exposure to the horrors of the earthquake's aftermath. They remembered the Chinese laundry man who would come into the house to pick up the dirty laundry, and put away the clean laundry, strictly supervised by the housekeeper. They would look forward to his visits. He would give them exotic candies.
The house was sold long ago, and has been subdivided into apartments. The last time I talked to the residents they didn't believe it had been a single family home, and pointed to the fact it had two front doors. Yep, there are two front doors. One was for the servants -- the laundry men, the housekeepers, the cooks, the nannies. The other door was for family and guests.