by 
The year was 2011, and I was newly married—not even eight months in—working over at Hertz on Military Highway. I’d just dropped my wife off at Dillard’s in MacArthur Center. I remember the day like it was yesterday.
It was a normal Norfolk day: birds singing, squirrels running around like they pay rent, and friendly drivers who like to say hello with one finger. Nothing seemed out of place. But little did I know… this would be a “where-were-you-when” kind of day.
Here’s what happened, as told by first-hand testimony from August 23rd, 2011—plus one family secret I probably shouldn’t be sharing.
My wife’s testimony: “The whole building moved.”
My wife was working inside Dillard’s when it happened.
She said the whole building shook—like the store itself had decided to do a little two-step. Now if you know MacArthur Center, you know it’s not some tiny place. Dillard’s sits in a big multi-level setup, right near the parking garage. When that building moves, you feel it.
One of her coworkers—a beautician by trade, the type who can tell you your hair needs moisture just by looking at your aura—leaned in and said, real calm:
“Girl… that was an earthquake.”
Then she added, even calmer:
“Don’t tell the customers. I don’t want to scare them.”
Only in retail do you get hit with a natural disaster and your first thought is: “But what about the shoppers?”
My testimony: “I was outside… and I missed it.”
Me? I was outside at Hertz, and I don’t even think I felt anything.
I’m serious. I was out there doing what you do at a rental spot—checking cars, moving keys, living that “sun reflecting off the windshield straight into your soul” life—and nothing registered.
But my mother, who lived right down the street, said she felt it at home. She also said her dog was acting funny beforehand—pacing around like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.
And here’s the wild part: that quake wasn’t just a Norfolk moment. The real earthquake was a magnitude 5.8, centered near Mineral in Louisa County, Virginia, and it was felt across a huge portion of the eastern U.S.—including here in Norfolk and even as far as Michigan. USGS+2Norfolk+2
So yes… the city shook. I just happened to be standing in the one spot in Hampton Roads where it didn’t feel like the earth was doing jumping jacks.
The part the news didn’t tell you…
Now the reports will tell you the epicenter was in Louisa County near Mineral. USGS
But I have a secret to share about that earthquake.
A story I’ve never told anyone.
I know how the earthquake happened.
And before you judge me, just understand something: my Uncle Roberto is known for his big personality… but what people don’t know is Roberto has a brother named Alfonso.
And Alfonso makes a mean chili with beans.
Grandma always said, “If you put those boys together, trouble is guaranteed.”
Well the night before the earthquake, Alfonso dropped off a fresh batch of what he called his best chili yet—new experimental ingredients, secret spices, all that. Alfonso was always trying to prove Grandpa wrong. He swore he was going to make something of himself.
And his little brother Roberto was his test dummy—I mean, test case.
Alfonso named it:
Turbo Chili.
He said it was supposed to “get you going in a hurry.”
Now Roberto… Roberto has a slow system.
He had three bowls that night.
Fast forward to the next day—August 23rd, 2011.
Roberto is outside in the yard playing ball with my cousin. He bends over to pick the ball up… and that Turbo Chili finally clocks in for work.
That’s when it happened.
Roberto busts his britches.
BOOM.
Now the news said the epicenter was in Louisa County, Va … but those who know, know.
The epicenter was Norfolk, Virginia.
Talk about putting the city on the map. Not exactly the way our family wanted.
And we don’t talk about it.
So please… keep this between us.
The aftermath: “Aunt Elise got launched… but landed on purpose.”
The whiplash of that blast blew my Aunt Elise back a few hundred feet.
Her fall was broken by some mattresses the neighbors had out by the curb for trash pickup—because even in an emergency, Norfolk still does bulk day like clockwork.
Windows rattled. Car alarms sang in harmony. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull screamed like it had witnessed the unthinkable.
Now you know my Aunt Elise. She’s one heck of a woman: ex–Green Beret (don’t ask questions), arm-wrestling champion at Rice University (also don’t ask), and the only person I know who can calculate danger with a pencil behind her ear and a look that says, “Somebody is about to get in trouble.”
She stands up off that mattress, dusts herself off, and roars:
“AAALLLFFFOOONNNSSOOOO… YOU ARE MINE!”
Because Elise had warned Alfonso not to come around the house with his schemes—especially not dragging Roberto into it.
Roberto comes limping over, holding the back of his pants like it’s a crime scene.
“Elise… honey… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have had that Turbo Chili. Alfonso told me it wouldn’t be that bad.”
Elise ignores the apology and starts scribbling calculations.
“Oh no,” she says.
“According to these numbers… there’s going to be a tsunami hitting Hampton Roads in two hours.”
Now don’t argue with Elise’s math. Nobody does.
“We have to do something,” she says.
Operation Counter-Chili
She storms into the house, grabs the phone, and starts making calls like she’s coordinating a movie.
“Okay, Alfonso,” she says, “we need you. Do you have any more of that chili?”
Alfonso tries to play innocent.
“No, I got rid of it.”
Elise slowly turns her head.
“Alfonso… fess up.”
A long pause.
“…Okay,” he admits, “I got about ten barrels in my backyard.”
Elise nods like she’s been waiting on that truth.
“Good. This is what we’re going to do.”
“I’ve got friends in the Navy who can get those barrels onto helicopters. And I’ve got Marine biology buddies who can locate whales off the coast.”
Roberto blinks.
“Elise… why whales?”
“Because,” she says, “if we drop that Turbo Chili in the right spots… those whales will consume it.”
Roberto’s face changes.
“Oh no…”
“And when they respond,” Elise continues, “it’ll create a powerful blast—strong enough to counteract the incoming tsunami.”
Alfonso whispers, “That’s… not how—”
Elise cuts him off.
“Norfolk and Hampton Roads are depending on us.”
Then she points at both brothers:
“And so are y’all… because if this doesn’t work, you’re both in BIG trouble.”
Two hours later…
Down by the water, the helicopters came in low.
The barrels dropped.
The whales arrived like they’d been summoned by destiny… and poor decision-making.
And somewhere out there in the Atlantic, history was made.
The sea bubbled.
The wind shifted.
A shockwave rolled out like thunder wearing steel-toe boots.
And just like that…
The tsunami that “was definitely coming” (according to Elise’s math) mysteriously decided to reconsider its life choices.
Hampton Roads was safe.
The city went back to normal.
And the official story stayed official: a magnitude 5.8 earthquake near Mineral, Virginia—felt across the region, including Norfolk. USGS+1
But our family?
We knew the truth.
And we never spoke of Turbo Chili again.
Postscript: the real lesson I took from that day
Jokes aside, that 2011 quake was real, and it surprised a lot of people because we don’t “expect” earthquakes in Virginia—until the day your building starts dancing. Norfolk+1
If you felt it in Norfolk, Chesapeake, or Virginia Beach, you weren’t imagining it. And if you didn’t feel it (like me)… congratulations, you were probably standing in the only magical two-foot patch of Hampton Roads that stayed calm.
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