Some return to regular routine - but regular is not the rule

Haya El Nasser

01/24/1994

USA Today

FINAL

Page 07A

LOS ANGELES - Sylvia Perez's house is unharmed. But her marriage, her

children, her finances and her sleep are not.

The Northridge earthquake has thrown her life into complete shambles. Her

70-minute commute from Palmdale has turned into a four-hour bus and train

journey, a grueling test of endurance. She and her husband stay in town two

nights a week - but on different nights. Her baby-sitting bill jumped $80 last

week.

"I don't think we'll be able to keep this up for too long," says Perez, who works

in downtown Los Angeles. "It's only been four days and I'm dragging myself

around."

One week after the devastating 6.6 earthquake, Los Angeles is trying to creep

back to normal. Thousands are returning to work. Most schools are on the verge

of reopening. Some businesses are back to regular hours.

But the effects of the quake are turning peoples' lives upside down. Long-lasting

disruptions are everywhere.

Today, the city could be thrown into the worst gridlock in its congested history.

Collapsed freeways will force hellish detours on city boulevards. Some main

avenues will become one-way streets to ease the flow - something likely to

confuse drivers.

"Delays of about two and a half hours," predicts radio traffic reporter Kathleen

Boyle. "California doesn't use mass transit but I think they're going to have to . .

. if they're bright."

Hospitals, churches, temples, stores - many are off limits.

Peter Kerasiotis, 72, of Canoga Park, has the flu and needed to get care Sunday.

The Veterans Affairs hospital - his usual health center - was badly damaged. His

wife called four other hospitals. All closed. Finally, they ended up at Northridge

Hospital, where the water still is unsafe to drink.

"We were concerned that I wouldn't be able to find any place to get help," says

Kerasiotis. "Everything's damaged."

Virtually everyone who owns a store in any mall near the fault line faces an

uneasy waiting game.

Gayatri Shamasunder, 40, co-owner of Impostors costume jewelry store - in the

now-closed Northridge Fashion Center - won't learn until Wednesday when and

if her shop will reopen.

Some employers are even losing workers permanently.

At O'Neil Data Systems, one worker who lives in Palmdale - an area cut off from

Los Angeles by the freeway collapse - called last week and quit.

"He said `I've got my van all packed and I won't be back,' " says Scott Pruner of

O'Neil. The employee headed to the East.

The traffic horrors may spur a boom in telecommuting. Commuter groups

already are urging people to consider everything from working at home to

variable work hours.

Sunday, some church services had to be held in makeshift tents. Others, like St.

John Eudes Catholic Church in Chatsworth, were luckier. The church suffered

$500,000 in damage - pieces of scattered concrete and broken statues - but Mass

was held in the parish hall. Services spilled out onto the sidewalk.

School officials are vowing to reopen most classrooms by Tuesday but several

hard-hit schools in the San Fernando Valley won't open their doors until later.

And 300 classrooms are still unusable - leaving at least 9,000 students without

classrooms.

But back-to-school will be an unusual experience for many students. In some

schools, there won't be any basketball practice because many left homeless by

the earthquake are sleeping in school gymnasiums.

And for parents, whose well-structured schedules crumbled after the quake, there

is a scramble to find care for their children. Some parents are even considering

sending children away to stay with relatives while they put their lives back

together.

But most, like Eileen Jolly, 35, face immediate child-care worries. Jolly's baby

sitter left town: "If it weren't for my husband's work, I would figure a way to

move."

Now even the most routine tasks take more gumption: Driving under freeway

overpasses amid visions of collapsed freeways; walking to the elevator in an

underground garage while flashing back to pictures of crumbled buildings. Once

in the elevator, there's even more edginess.

Even finding ways to escape can be tough. Some bars can't serve ice in drinks

because the water's unsafe. Restaurants scratched favorite dishes off their menus

because of damaged equipment. Some customers even refuse to sit at usually

choice tables - staring warily at a dangling chandelier overhead.

"The earthquake has changed everyone's lives dramatically," says TV producer

Karen Goldsmith, 40, who went to the movies - but brought her flashlight and

insisted on sitting by the exit.

Contributing: Carol J. Castaneda and Jonathan T. Lovitt

PHOTOS,b/w,Bob Riha Jr.,Gamma-Liaison(2)