Narrator: It started out as a typical late summer day in New England for Armchair General Savin Hill. The sun was shining and he was in his home office. The General's a self-employed marketing specialist, and the day seemed to start out like many others.

The General: As usual, I knew I had a lot of work in front of me. I had conference calls to make, email marketing programs to manage. It seemed like a typical day.

Narrator: Then, without warning, the General's day took a deadly turn.

The General: I was making a PB&J sandwich when I noticed a slight swaying.

Narrator: The General had suddenly found himself in the great Massachusetts Earthquake of 2011 -- one of the worst extremely minor earthquakes in the past 100 years.

The General: I knew it was an earthquake. I'd felt the 1.3 back in '98 -- my couch moved one-sixteenth of an inch back then. This was much worse. I saw the blinds move almost imperceptibly.

Narrator: Moving with cat-like agility, the General dashed out to his porch.

The General: I knew inside was not safe - but then I found myself on the porch! Not only could I be crushed by the house -- but I was sure to get splinters too.

Narrator: The General then vaulted into his parking space immediately behind his porch and made his way to his back "yard" -- a terrifyingly tiny space measuring 15 feet by 25.

The General: I used the James T. Kirk "roll" maneuver I'd seen in Star Trek to get from the parking space to the back yard. It seemed to work perfectly as I ended up in the back yard in a crouching position -- having transitioned from the James T. Kirk pre-roll crouching position. My shoulder was slightly dirty from the roll, but other than that, I thought I was fine.

Narrator: The General then had a choice -- to remain in the relative safety of his tiny back yard, or risk going back into the house and scheduling some conference calls.

The General: I knew another extremely small after shock could happen at any minute -- what if I was inside? I decided to stay outside, crouching by the rose-of-sharon bush in the shade to keep out of the wilting New England sun.

Narrator: As the General waited under the rose-of-sharon bush, he was becoming slightly thirsty. If he remained there for another 12 days, he could die.

The General: I knew if I stayed under that bush continuously for 12 days, I was a goner. By this point it had been nearly 48 minutes since my last glass of orange juice. I was having waking dreams of fountains of orange juice -- but I knew I just couldn't get to it. Not without taking the 38 seconds to go back in the house and go to the refrigerator. …