Great Quakes

The midday sun shimmered on the turquoise waters of the Solomon Sea, casting brilliant reflections off the fishing boats drifting just off New Georgia Island. Children laughed and splashed along the shore. In nearby villages, elders rested beneath palm trees, shielding themselves from the tropical heat, while families went about their daily routines—tending gardens, weaving mats, preparing lunch. Then, without warning, the ground began to groan.

It’s a warm Saturday afternoon in the quiet coastal town of Camana, Peru. Families are finishing lunch, vendors are calling out prices in the market, and children play in the plaza beneath a cloudless sky. At 3:33 PM, without warning, the ground begins to groan. The tremors quickly escalate—windows shatter, adobe walls crumble, and terrified residents flee into the streets, unsure of where safety lies. For over a minute, the earth heaves with unimaginable force. Farther inland, in the historic city of Arequipa, the cathedral’s ancient towers sway perilously. In the Andes, landslides bury roads, cutting off entire villages. And...

It was a bright autumn morning in Lima, Peru, on May 24, 1940. Vendors filled the bustling streets, children laughed on their way to school, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted through colonial alleyways. The city, with its historic churches and Spanish-era architecture, moved at its usual vibrant pace. Then, without warning, the ground began to tremble. First came a low, ominous rumble—barely noticeable over the morning din. But within seconds, the earth roared with violent force. Buildings shook violently, walls cracked and crumbled, and terrified residents ran into the streets as homes collapsed behind them. Dust filled...

The classroom was filled with the sound of children’s laughter and chalk tapping on blackboards as another ordinary Monday afternoon unfolded in a small town in Sichuan province. Outside, the sun cast long shadows over the rugged hills and terraced fields. At exactly 2:28 p.m., without warning, the ground began to tremble. Windows shattered, walls cracked, and within seconds, buildings crumbled like paper. Screams pierced the air. In the chaos, a teacher threw himself over his students, shielding them from falling debris. Entire families disappeared beneath the rubble. Roads twisted, rivers changed course, and the landscape itself seemed to cry...

It was just past 7:30 PM on a quiet April evening in 1943. Families in the small Chilean town of Ovalle were winding down for the night. Some gathered around radios for the evening news, others finished dinner or stepped outside to enjoy the cool autumn air. Life moved slowly in this rural corner of the Coquimbo Region—until the ground began to roar. At first, it was a low rumble. Glasses rattled. Dogs barked. Then, in a matter of seconds, the earth heaved violently, and buildings began to sway and crack. People ran into the streets as adobe walls crumbled...