Seventeen years ago today, also on a Tuesday.
I have always maintained that it's bad enough for the Giants to be in the World Series, and it's bad enough for the A's to be in the Series, but apparently even God can't take the thought of both of them in the Series [but see below for why it was actually great that the game was at Candlestink Park that day].
This is long and mostly personal, just so you are forewarned. Also, I've been writing it in tiny chunks for a few days without a good block of time to edit the whole, so if it's a little clunky blame it on work.
We lived in Santa Cruz in 1989, less than 10 miles from the epicenter, which was in the Forest of Nisene Marks State Park not far from a small mountain called Loma Prieta known for its association with a well known rock band. Fortunately for us, we were away on vacation at the time. When it hit, we were on a shuttle bus between Disneyland and our hotel. Someone on the bus had a radio tuned to the World Series, which was how we heard of it within minutes of the quake.
As soon as we got to the hotel, we attempted to call our tenants back home. Naturally, we couldn't get through because all the rest of the country was trying to call into the Bay Area, so we just stayed in the room and watched the news. The San Francisco TV stations all had generators and were broadcasting (though to only those folks with their own generators, of course, since the power was out in the entire area). The SoCal stations picked up the feeds from SF so we watched the local coverage as it happened.
We knew the epicenter was in the Santa Cruz area, so it was a bit disconcerting to hear things on the news such as "Death and Destruction in San Francisco! Death and Destruction in Oakland! Death and Destruction in San Jose! We can't get any news out of Santa Cruz County." We had an image of the entire county flattened by the forces of nature; we were extremely concerned about our houses, which had been built sometime around 1920 and certainly not up to modern earthquake codes.
It's not surprising they couldn't get any news out of Santa Cruz. The power was out, the phone lines were clogged (but not out, at least not many areas were out), and main route over the Santa Cruz Mountains was closed - we later learned that some of the Sainted Bride's coworkers were on the highway at the time and had some fun dodging boulders and crevices. Highway 1 also sustained major damage, both north and south of Santa Cruz.
Of course, the news outside of Santa Cruz County was bad enough, especially on the Cypress Freeway in Oakland. The earthquake hit at 5:04 p.m., the heart of rush hour. The collapse of the Cypress Structure was feared to have killed as many as 3,000 people. Because so many had left work early to see the World Series, though, the total was only 42. In fact, the entire death toll from the quake was only 63 - a minor miracle itself.
Finally, after midnight, our tenants managed to get hold of us to let us know that the houses were still standing with no major damage obvious. We decided against returning early; with aftershocks and power outages, there didn't seem to be much we could do in the first couple of days anyway, so we just stayed where we were for a couple of days. We called people as we got the chance. Everyone we knew was okay and coping.
I called work to ask my associate "Hey baby, what's SHAKIN'!" She was amused and filled me in on the haps, which included her being chased across the lab by a rolling freezer and a dispenser that committed suicide by jumping off a lab bench. Oh, yeah, and the VP who walked around the company the day after the quake to make goddam sure that every single person who didn't show up that day got docked vacation time for it. Motherfucker.
Thursday or Friday, we took off for home. We stopped to drop the kids off with grandparents and went home to start the cleanup and survey the damage. Fortunately, it was mostly minor through blind, shit-ass luck. Before leaving for vacation, we had run the dishwasher and most of our everyday dishes were in it. The cabinet where they normally lived was shaken empty of the few things left in it, but being almost empty at the time, little was lost. The good china, including some heirloom pieces, were in a built-in hutch but as it happened, the shaking was in one direction, and that direction was side-to-side in that hutch - not piece of china fell out or broke. Had it shaken in the orthogonal direction...[shudder].
But there was some heavier damage. The freezer had toppled and the door opened. Much of the meat in it was thawed and spoiled (several hundred dollars worth). What was partially thawed but not spoiled, we donated to a food bank rather than try to refreeze, and a little was still frozen solidly enough to keep.
We had the house inspected at the first opportunity by the overworked gummint folks. There was a large crack in the chimney and it had to be replaced. As it turns out, this was also a stroke of luck because the 70-year-old chimney was found to have its mortar mostly burned out (this was found by the contractor demolishing it with one blow of a sledge hammer; it collapsed into a pile of bricks).
The inspection also found that the house was not bolted to the foundation. It is a sheer miracle that it did not collapse as so many others did. One corner actually came within an inch of shaking off its support (whatever those upright 4x4 wood things are called), which would have torn out that entire end of the house. But it didn't and all in all, we came through it okay. It cost several thousand to bolt the house to the foundation and replace the fireplace. Actually, the saddest part aside from the outflow of hard-earned dollars was loss of an incredibly efficient, 30" Lopi fireplace insert. Crank it up and that bad boy could drive you out of the room. We couldn't afford to build a real fireplace so the new one was a zero-clearance job, more decorative than functional. To add a bit of insult, we had just a few months before taken down (whew!) a large tree that threatened the house, acquiring about three cords of firewood that would have been so nice to burn in that insert. Sigh.
We cleaned up the mess, picked up the kids, and got on with life. I even managed to get back to work, despite the damage on Highway 17, on the day I was supposed to be back by the simple expedient of driving about 30 or 40 miles out of the way. Carpooling in police-escorted convoys over the hill continued for about a month until the highway was completely reopened.
Still, despite these minor irritations, we were fine and the property was mostly fine. That's a lot more than can be said for a lot of folks. And despite all the damage, no one bitched at FEMA for not rescuing people. Instead, benefits were organized, people pitched in, and lives were put back together.
A year after, another large benefit was put together on the anniversary of the quake. Several hundred people converged on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk for a mass rendition of "Shake, Rattle, and Roll". We didn't attend but we could hear it from home several miles away. This became a bit of a tradition, and may even continue today; I know it continued past when we moved.
For some indication of just how widespread and devastating the damage was, browse here.
Posted by Ken S at October 17, 2006 12:54 PM | TrackBack (0) |Dude. What a story.
My parents live a scant 60 miles from the center of the New Madrid Fault. EVERY DAY I think to myself, "Is this the day? Is it today when the Mississippi river will change its course again? Will I feel it in Arkansas? Will my parents be safe?"
I can't fathom living where the earth moves all the time; y'all are brave.
But you'll live with tornadoes? ;)
It doesn't move all the time, actually not very often. And the big ones in any given area are actually pretty rare.
Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at October 18, 2006 07:10 AMYeah, I wouldn't call it bravery. Most of the time they're very little, and when they're not, the news always makes them look 1000% more horrible than they actually are. When Northridge happened, it was pretty bad, but I wouldn't have called it catastrophic but for a few limited areas. I remember the news showing footage of an apartment building that had collapsed over and over and over again in a way that tried to suggest that this is what the entire Valley looks like. Not to dismiss the poor people that were killed or anything, but Jeebus -- it wasn't that awful. It hardly ever is.
Posted by: Emily at October 18, 2006 07:26 AMThey're called "tornado warnings." I don't think earthquakes give you much notice. :)
Off the top of my head, I can only remember five serious quakes in California in my lifetime: Simi Valley, Coalinga, Hollister, Loma, and Northridge.
I might have missed one or two but really, that's about it. And really, only three of those caused widespread damage.
Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at October 18, 2006 07:46 AMBut we still got a volcano!
Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at October 18, 2006 07:46 AMKen,
The Ferndale earthquakes were pretty bad. We had three 7-point-somethings in two days in 1992. I was living in Humboldt at the time. When one of them hit, I was in the shower. Thing is, the landlord had popped by the week before to inspect our ancient apartment complex because he was worried the bathtub was going to fall through the floor. I remember thinking "great. I'm going to die with soap in my eyes in the downstairs neighbor's bathroom."
Forgot Ferndale. But it's still true, the big ones are few and far and so the risk is not nearly as great as some think.
Lisa, that's true, they don't give warning, but that's really nothing more than a lack of manners on their part.
Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at October 18, 2006 07:54 AMWell, Ken, they don't call 'em "fault lines" for nothin'!
Posted by: Emily at October 18, 2006 07:58 AMI remember that day well. We lived in Campbell, almost in a direct line between S. Cruz and SF. I had stayed home sick from work. When the quake struck, I ran outside and saw telephone poles swaying at 30 degree angles. We lost a lot of "stuff" (mostly decorative, not essential), and considering our townhouse was supported by a wood pole in one corner, we were lucky. But all that mattered to me was seeing my then-husband come around the corner, having made it home through the mass of traffic (he had stayed late at HP, running up the aisles turning off computers so they wouldn't be damaged when the power came on.) And the people who were at my office were very lucky, considering that the warehouse attached to the office contained hundreds of hazardous chemicals. Customers were amazed when we were open for business the next day. The way the news portrayed it, they thought we'd all be dead.
What I remember most is the good that came out in people after the quake. Neighbors we didn't know offered us food and a place to sleep. Walgreens propped open their doors and were doling out batteries, prescriptions, etc. If you could pay, fine. If not, that's fine too, you got what you needed. Since then, Walgreens is my pharmacy, wherever I go.
But it still affects me here in Texas. Thunder sounds a lot like a quake, and I still have to fight the urge to dive under the desk when I hear it!
Thanks, Ken. Nice post.
Julie,
WOW. Thank you for writing that.
Thanks.
You lived in Humboldt? I love that area... Patrick's Point... Trinidad... Eureka (I wonder if the Samoa Cookhouse is still there.)
My old dog, Sheba, owned Trinidad State Beach. (Well, at least that's how *she* saw it... she chased all the seagulls away from end to end, so that means it belongs to her, right?)
I was in Santa Cruz during the Hollister quake, in a 95-year-old Victorian on Hwy 1. There were seven of us living there that summer, and all 7 of us headed for the same doorway when it started to shake. (Note for future reference: that doesn't work well.) But that house wasn't hurt; it just absorbed all the motion. I guess that comes with age.
Yeah, I went to HSU. Last time I was there the Samoa Cookhouse was still around. That was about 6 years ago. Trinidad is just beautiful. I loved the redwood forests and beaches up there. Very peaceful.
Posted by: Emily at October 18, 2006 11:53 AMMan, great stories guys. Thanks!
Posted by: Mr. Bingley at October 19, 2006 11:39 AMI left work early and was standing by my motorcycle in the parking-lot of Safeway with a six-pack of beer just purchased in preparation for watching the Series, when everything started shucking and jiving. I grabbed the handlebars of the bike as it attempted to un-stand itself, and watched the cars wallow and crashing noises emenated from the building behind me. When I got home it was relativey unscathed - but some items on the upper kitchen shelves had found their way down a shelf, where they barged around smashing glassware. Weird. When my girlfriend came home she talked about how she thought her car had a flat-tire, and then watching the windows of the big BofA building warp and wobble and flex in the afternoon sunlight. We watched the rest on TV, and each aftershock for the next month was like a cattle-prod.
Word from a couple days, ago my friend on the Big Island was near the epicenter, camped out in a field prior to her daughter's MX race - and heard the cattle running that morning. Not wanting to get caught in a stampeed she got out of the tent and watched the field undulate and her car try to tip itself over. She was trapped in the field by a landslide blocking the road out, until a local guy with a backhoe cleared it.
I've been chased across the lab by an unbalanced centrifuge, but nothing as big as a freezer.
We felt the EQ in Fresno a little, but mostly people lost water from their pools.... The TV went black, I remember, and then eventually came back to people fleeing Candlestick park.
Posted by: caltechgirl at October 19, 2006 02:45 PMDirt, did the beer make it?
Posted by: Mr. Bingley at October 19, 2006 03:17 PMYes of course, but it didn't last and then I had to go buy more!
Posted by: DirtCrashr at October 19, 2006 05:36 PMThis is why I love our dear Mr. Bingley. He has his priorities straight, even seventeen years later.
Gosh, I didn't even compute how long it had been, despite Ken's post, until I typed the words myself.
Seventeen years.
I hope they've healed the grieving in a good fashion.
Posted by: Emily at October 19, 2006 06:44 PMGreat question, Bingley. You get credit for saving the beer DirtCrashr, but Good Lord! You bought a six-pack? Have you no faith, man?
Posted by: Dave E. at October 19, 2006 07:28 PMHealing, yes. But I have never forgiven the American Red Cross for witholding MILLIONS of dollars in relief that donors had specifically earmarked for the earthquake victims. San Francisco finally had to *sue* to get the money, months later. I'm sure ARC pulled this same sh-t with 9-11 funds. I will never donate to ARC again; Salvation Army gets my money. (Plus, the Salvation Army donuts were *free* -- ARC charged Santa Cruzans for theirs. Unbelievable.)
OK, soapbox gone. Back to normal broadcasting.
Well, it was probably a twelve-pack, I could fit one into my backpack. Being on a sport motorcycle enforces certain constraints.
I too lost faith in the Red Cross and shortly afterwards bought my earthquake bike a fearless steed that could ride through the rubble of civilization without any fear. And also holds more beer.
This post has brought back all kinds of memories. I have never been in CA during an earthquake but DH & I did have a run of natural disasters follow us for a couple of years to the point that my FIL told us we couldn't come home until we could prove that we were not a disaster magnet. (we were both in the military at that time)
We were stationed in Homestead but had transfered just before Hurricane Andrew went through. Found out later that our old house had been leveled. Then we were stationed in Guam and when I had complications with my pregnancy with our first daughter we were sent to the nearest neo-natal intensive care unit which happened to be in the Philippines....9 days before Mt Pinatubo blew it's top. Got pictures of that over the tail of a C-5 while being emergency evacuated to Japan. And I kid you not....as soon as we landed in Japan there was a strong enough earthquake that we were sent to a shelter.
You would think that that would be enough of a string of bad luck but the very next year when I was having problems with the pregnancy with our second daughter we were sent to Hawaii. We were there when Hurricane Iniki demolished Kaui. (We were luckily in Honolulu but it was still no picnic) and if that doesn't take the cake, then while we were there Typhoon Omar went through Guam. We were not there at the time since DD#2 had still not been born but nobody checked our house till about a couple of weeks later when the neighbors complained about the stench. We got a call the day before our daughter was born that the pressure of the storm surge had cracked the sewer pipe going into the house. There was two feet of raw sewage in the house (should have seen the water lines on the walls) that did not drain because these are concrete houses designed to keep the water OUT. Also happens to hold it very nicely.
So on the tropical island of Guam with NO air conditioning and no one to drain the place it was pretty bad. We lost just about everything. Luckily, that was the end of our bad run of natural disasters. Makes for a good story to tell the kids though. :o)
Posted by: Lemon Stand at October 23, 2006 11:24 AM
