The earth has been restless again. In recent days, we have felt its tremors in different corners of the country — some mild, others frighteningly strong. Each time it happens, we find ourself pausing, remembering, and praying.

We have written before about earthquakes and other natural disasters, but each new one brings back memories and emotions that never truly fade. And so we feel compelled, once again, to lend our voice to a call that can never be repeated enough — we must always be prepared constantly and consistently. Because earthquakes do not give warnings. They simply come and change everything in a heartbeat.

Every time the news flashes images of cracked roads, fallen buildings, and frightened families, our mind drifts back to July 16, 1990, a day that changed our life and the life of our beloved hometown, Dagupan City, forever.

It was a little past four in the afternoon when the ground began to shake violently and terrifyingly. What we thought would last a few seconds stretched on like a cruel eternity. We still remember the sound — the deep rumble of the earth, the crash of walls, the cries of people running for safety. In Dagupan, streets rippled like waves and buildings sank as the soil turned into liquid beneath them. It was as if the city itself was being swallowed whole.

But amid the chaos, there was courage. Amid the fear, there was faith and compassion. We saw neighbors helping one another, strangers risking their lives for others, communities rising from the rubble. In those days that followed, as we helped lead Dagupan’s rehabilitation, we witnessed something stronger than any earthquake — the indomitability of the Filipino spirit.

That memory has never left us. It has become a quiet companion every time we hear of another tremor or read of another city struggling to rebuild. It reminds us that while we cannot stop the earth from shaking, we can —through preparedness, discipline, and compassion — soften the blow when the inevitable happens.

More than 20 years ago, a study by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority (MMDA), and Phivolcs warned of a scenario they called “The Big One” — a 7.2-magnitude earthquake that could strike along the West Valley Fault. Their findings were grim. Tens of thousands of lives could be lost, and hundreds of thousands of homes destroyed.

Those numbers were never meant to scare us. They were meant to wake us up. But sometimes, we forget.

And so we write again because reminders matter. Because complacency is dangerous. And because memories, painful as they are, can save lives when they are shared.

Let us make preparedness a habit, not a reaction. Let us build wisely and enforce safety codes not just as legal obligations but as moral duties to our children. Let us empower our communities to respond quickly and effectively, so that when the ground moves again, as it surely will, we will not be caught helpless.

The earth will always tremble. That is its nature. But if we have learned anything from 1990, it is that what does not fall is the Filipino spirit — steadfast, compassionate, unyielding.

When the ground trembles, may we stand firm, not only on the strength of our structures, but on the strength of our faith, our foresight, and our love for one another.