Mukilteo Musings

Topic of the Day: Natural Disasters Part 1

First of all, I am not a brave person so I do not relish being a part of history when it comes to these things. We are now coming up on our third anniversary of the 6.8 Nisqually earthquake and it prompts me to write about my experience with that and others.

I grew up in Helena, MT being reminded everyday of the major earthquake that hit there in the 1930's. On the edge of town a constant reminder existed in the leftover form of a ritzy hot springs resort that was in shambles; the hotsprings dried up as a result and the beauiful glass natatorium had collapsed. The ghostly castle-like ruins of the hotel remained my whole childhood. Everytime we would pass it my Mom would tell the story of how beautiful it used to be. It was the Broadwater Resort and it catered to the wealthy population in Helena at the turn of the century. ( Actually, in the 1890's, Helena had more millionaires per capita than any city in the US because of GOLD and they left their lovely Victorian mansions scattered throughout the small city.)

Needless to say, one night in 1959 as a very small child, I became frightened as I felt my bunkbed rock and roll. I knew it was an earthquake; I grew up hearing about them. The epicenter was in Yellowstone Park and it caused half of a mountain to slide into a river creating what is now called Quake Lake. Many people camping at the base of that mountain were killed as they slept in their tents. Also, the eruption schedule of Old Faithful was changed forever. For a small girl with an overactive imagination, this was heady stuff to be learning and hearing about especially when I had felt the power of that quake.

The Junior High I attended was an old building and it had been severely damaged in the 1930's quake as well. I spent a lot of time as a small child running and playing in the halls because my Dad was a science teacher and then a principal there. He would work evenings and weekends sometimes and my brother and I would go with him. The building was big and dark and scary and full of big cracks everywhere from that quake. The woodworking shop had fallen from the second floor to the basement and there it still is to this day. So, one day when I was in the 7th grade, our desks began to rattle. Only a few seconds of shake but the cracks, the woodshop, that gorgeous natatorium I used to imagine, the mountian crashing through tents--all flashed through my brain. But that was it; we were ok.

Tomorrow, Part 2