Northridge Earthquake sidebar 1, Jan. 16, 1997

Is it their fault? Lisa Ferguson Thursday, Jan. 16, 1997 | 5:24 a.m. A stack of snapshots and three file folders overflowing with documents are all that remain of Nancy and Roy Dyas' dream home. It, along with several others in their Granada Hills, Calif., neighborhood, a stone's throw from the epicenter, was destroyed during the 1994 Northridge quake. During the quake, utility mains under the city's main drag ruptured, turning several homes into giant, flaming boxes. "It was like somebody dropped a bomb on Balboa Boulevard," Nancy says. "The fire department couldn't get there ... so it just kept on burning." Those fissures are the same ones that took out the Dyases' $400,000 five-bedroom, three-bath home on the seventh hole of a country club golf course. They were spared the flames but not the shaking. A photo shows a massive crack extending from the street, up the driveway, through the house and into the back yard, where it ripped the swimming pool and a small pond in half before continuing across the golf course. "The ground just separated," Nancy recalls. Things weren't much better inside the two-story house, which slid 4 inches south, half of it dropping with the earth. The garage door fell off its hinges. It looked like an 18-wheeler had taken a detour through the kitchen. "This was a disaster," Nancy says. "That's why we feel very fortunate that we have our lives." But the house where the family had lived for nearly two decades was a total loss. It was red-tagged and looted before being demolished five months later. Still, the Dyases were determined to rebuild. Their first obstacle appeared later that year. Nancy says city officials suspected that at least one earthquake fault ran directly beneath the family's home. To test the theory, officials requested that extensive digging -- between 14 and 21 feet down, costing the Dyases $25,000 -- be completed before construction could begin. Still, the city denied them the necessary permits three times, citing the need for further excavation. But the family's funds were running short. "If we had to put everything in there to prove that it couldn't be built upon again, which might have happened, ... where we gonna build our house?" she says. "To add salt to the wound, they said (the land) was worth nothing because ... the ground's all tore up." Officials never did confirm to the Dyases that a fault existed beneath the property. The couple tried to sell the lot, but given its shaky status, real-estate agents "wouldn't touch it with a 10-foot pole," Nancy says. "We're stuck with it and we don't know what to do." Meanwhile, Roy, an elevator engineer, and Nancy decided to relocate to Las Vegas, where the burgeoning housing market fit into their budget. The family of six moved into a five-bedroom home overlooking Angel Park Golf Course last July. They even had a replica of the white rock fireplace they had back home custom-built in the den. "We were trying to get back a little bit of what we lost," Nancy explains. But the family's feud with the city of Los Angeles is far from over. Just before the holidays, the couple received a $37,000-plus tax bill for the property -- which, Nancy says, contradicts the city's earlier claim that the land is worthless. "They're taxing me all the way back to the earthquake. We were caught in this disaster and, until the city approves the land, we should not be charged on it." Nancy will head to court later this year in hopes of having the taxes dismissed. Three years later, "I'm still going through the frustrations," she says. "It's just been one thing after the other." archive