Mukilteo Musings

The 6.8 QUAKE!

OK, now I finally get to the Nisqually quake and the end of my Natural Disaster series. It was three years ago tomorrow: February 28, 2001. This is another time that every Seattleite remembers exactly what they were doing that Wednesday morning. It is called Nisqually because the epicenter was there south of Seattle.

My husband had managed a way for me at the last minute to go to a scientist's reception with him that evening so that I could meet one of my heroes--Jeffrey Wigand. He has become known as the "Insider" for blowing the whistle on the tobacco companies. (Russell Crowe transformed himself into him for the movie.) The reception was to be held at the top of Columbia Tower which is the tallest sky scraper in Seattle and I was really excited.

At about 10:30 or 11 in the morning, I decided to touch up the color in my hair so that I would be stunningly gorgeous. I had finished putting a little color in my hair and I was waiting for it to set. Needless to say, I didn't have anything on because my next step would be the shower. I was upstairs in our bedroom/bathroom area and of course, my Golden Retriever, Jeb, was with me as usual. The kids were at school.

And then rattle, shake, rock and roll!!!!! The waves of intense shuddering lasted 38 seconds--think about that. One thousand one, one thousand two, ...For 38 long LONG seconds. At about 15 seconds, the shaking intensified and this is when I became utterly terrified because it wasn't stopping. I am certain I yelled out some expletives but I froze and stupidly stood between an armoire and the window either of which could have killed me. I held on to the bedpost and watched my bedroom jumble around. Jebbie was on his feet next to me and his ears were pulled back further than I had ever seen before; he also was terrified. All I could think of was oh my God I am naked and they'll find me like this--dead! This is it--the big one and I am going to die naked with my hair all narled.

The intensity was ebbing but the room was still rolling as if on a ferry when the phone rang. I took a breath. It was hysterical Dave; he had survived and wanted to know if I had. He had watched the street light outside his office at the University sway and swing around like a trapeze. The movement for him had stopped but since I was 15 miles further from the epicenter than he was, I was still rolling. Then I did something for which my whole family has criticized me. Did I check our gasline? Or go downstairs to see if there was a fire? Did I check for a collapsing house? NOOOO--I stepped into the shower.

Out of the shower, shaky but happy to be alive and with clothes on, I finally checked for damage. Sure enough a large framed print had slid off the mantel of the fireplace in the family room and smashed glass over the entire floor. All of our pictures and objects were askew but my china didn't break. Remarkably, under normal circumstances, the noise of the crash of this picture would have startled me upstairs but I did not notice it separate and apart from the roar of the whole earthquake. Our miniature Seattle Space Needle in my curio cabinet had fallen over and that made me laugh.

I called a neighbor and she and I walked through our houses together while on the phone and checked the gaslines. We decided together not to call the schools because they were new and earthquake-proof and if our houses were still standing, the schools undoubtedly were OK. Also, we believed our children were safer there if aftershocks came. But I was so worried about Kaley.

AFTERMATH

My kids acted like nothing had happened when they got home while their parents had suffered complete terror. Their fortress-like schools hardly budged. The teachers put them under their desks and Lucas had time while the earth shook to deal a hand of cards on the floor. Kaley's teacher, thank goodness, maintained an outer calm but Kaley noticed he kept checking his pulse while crouched--a young man probably feeling like he was having a heart attack.

The control tower at Sea-Tac airport was destroyed and the air traffic contollers were darn lucky to be alive. No planes could land so Jeffrey Wigand never arrived. The reception was canceled; nobody was terribly interested in being on the top floor of the highest building in Seattle that night. I know I certainly wasn't.

The experience that we all shared that day has provided conversation at parties and work. Everyone has a story. Older homes suffered damage and one of the oldest churches in Seattle, Trinity Episcopal, was severely damaged and hasn't yet reopened. Unbelievably, nobody was killed or even hurt; maybe one person died of a heart attack. And yet, the same magnitude quake in Morocco or Iran kills thousands of people. However, I now understand post traumatic stress syndrome. I am still jumpy. Loud noises, trucks going past, or even something so simple as grocery carts being smashed together, cause me to jump.