Before the beginning of the etntrace into the sixth grade our family moved to Pomona to be closer to Dad's work. Jack and I attended Kauffman School. I think the highlight of that year in school was the fire escae which led from our sixth grade room on the third floor of that old wooden building. It was a steel tube, which we were allowed to slide down to the ground, if the teacher felt the class had behaved properly during the day. A fine tool for the teacher to keep us in line, and a special reward for the children. Our first home, in Pomona, was an apartment house on Fifth Ave. My bed was in the living room, which disappeared during the day into the wall, and slid out like a drawer each night. Guess that detail is etched in my memory, because that was the year of the BIG earthquake in California. It happened one evening about five o'clock. I had been visiting a girlfriend who was sick and was walking home from her house. At first I thoght something was the matter with me until I saw people running our of their houses. I had seen a movie about the San Fransisco quake, which showed the earth opening up an people falling into the gaping cracks, so I started running very fast in order to jump those cracks! We had more quakes of lesser intensity all night, but still my bed kept threatening to roll back into the wall which made me a little uneasy; also, the fire whistle blew at intervals all night trying to persuade men to volunteer to go down to some of the beach cities, to dig out people who were buried under demolished buildings. Long Beach was particularly hard hit.