Right before his eyes the huge fissure on Sam's golf course closed, trapping the two men between tons of earth. Four feet from it, another quickly opened spitting mud, sand and water fifteen feet into the air. And on the top of the waterspout was Sam's rapidly spinning golf ball.

His sudden island measured ten feet by sixty feet and repeatedly rolled with the convulsions of the ground. On both sides, a patchwork of broken green slabs twisted and turned, sunk and rose. On the edge of the course, trees danced, tipping one way then the other while water in the pond surged north, only to surge south again. In the distance, a man attempt to run. He fell, struggled to his feet and fell again. Stunned and still on his knees, Sam slowly lifted a hand and held on to his bright red golf cap.

During the initial earthquake, only forty seconds passed before the walls of the fault caught on another snag, once more binding the earth's unfathomable strength. Yet the quake sent out its violent waves for more than four minutes. Then, its overpowering roar decreased and was replaced by another, more frightening noise. Imitating the sound of a billion rusty nails being pulled from age-old wood, rock against rock ground to a screeching halt.

In the control room of KMPR, the rumbling finally began to subside and the retching heaves of the earth tapered into kinder, gentler rolls. Wood, steel and concrete yielded its tortured anguish to less frightening rattles and clatter. Then -- at last -- it stopped.