On the seventeenth of January, of 1994,
There struck a mighty earthquake, it rocked the walls and floor.
At 4:31 that morning, the earth began to shake.
It rumbled through our land, and left a terrible wake.
It shattered your windows, and knocked your block wall down.
And from the Northridge Meadows there came a terrible sound.
The people from the first floor they raised their eyes in fear.
They heard the walls come crashing and felt their end was near.
The third floor and the second, they shuddered and they fell.
The sound they made a-falling, it rang a terrible knell.
The rescuers they struggled and saved many a soul.
But for sixteen of our loved ones, the earthquake took its toll.
Officer Dean heard the call, his duty to perform.
And on that dreadful morning put on his uniform.
But I-14 had fallen, its columns splintered like glass.
And as his spirit left him he knew he’d breathed his last.
And sweet little Amy, her life barely begun,
The Maker called her to him, her little race was run.
Her mother and her father, they cry in their grief.
Their daughter has been taken, her span on Earth so brief.
Now the worst is over, and many must start anew.
They wonder as they worry, “My God what will we do?”
So many people died that day, in pain or in peace.
They’ll never see the sunshine, their souls have been released.
And so the task begins, this destruction to undo.
The freeways they’ll reopen, the shops and schools will too.
And when our work is over, our toil and out sweat,
We’ll think about that day – we never will forget.
