“Ground fissures were opening up all around me as the earth began to shake more violently than ever before.”
by Michael R Dougherty
I was 17 years old and suddenly, I knew I could die if I didn't somehow make my way to safety… wherever that was.
At
just before 5:30pm on Good Friday, March 27th, 1964, I was in a gravel
pit near our home in Anchorage, Alaska. There was still snow on the
ground, and my brother Tom and I were learning to jump on our skis.
We
had built a ski jump by rolling up huge snow balls near the bottom of
the road leading into the gravel pit, shoving them together and creating
a ramp out of snow.
My brother and I had been getting better at
ski jumping, so I was there by myself on that day to increase the height
of our ramp.
At 5:36pm, the ground under my feet began to
rumble. Our family had lived in Alaska for many years, and we had felt
many earthquakes.
But this earthquake was different.
Seconds later, the ground was moving viciously and ground fissures (cracks in the ground) were opening up all around me.
I
quickly realized that this was a really horrible earthquake and I could
be killed down there in the gravel pit and no one would know.
So, I decided to somehow make it up the slippery, snow-covered hill to someplace besides where I was.
Instead
of my winter boots, I had gone down into the gravel pit in my dress
boots that had zero traction on the soles. So if I was going to have any
chance at running up the hill and not falling into one of the cracks
that were opening up all around me, I had to use a ski trick.
I
ran up the hill using my dress boots like skis. My left boot was pointed
to the left side and my right boot was pointed to the right. I then ran
all the way up the hill, jumping over the cracks in the ground and
praying that I wouldn't fall.
And as I ran, the ground was shaking more and more violently.
God must have been with me because somehow I managed to make it to the top of the hill where I quickly looked around.
Just
to my left was a valley covered with trees that were now swaying
violently from left to right, as if they were waves in an angry ocean.
Behind me was open land covered with small trees and brush.
In
front of me was a skinny little tree with a trunk about as big around as
a garden hose. As silly as it seemed, I somehow staggered over to the
tree, fell to my knees, put my hands around the skinny tree trunk and
held on for dear life.
I quickly noticed how weird the ground
felt below my knees and thought to myself, “This is what it would be
like to try to stand on Jell-O.”
In front of me was the apartment
complex where my family lived. And right in front of me was a laundry
building with a very tall, brick smoke stack. As I looked forward, the
brick smoke stack was swaying wildly from the left to the right.
Looking around, I started wondering if this earthquake would ever end, and I wondered in terror if it was the end of the world.
Then I heard the screams of children behind me.
As
I turned around to look, my head was being jarred so much by the
relentless and powerful shaking, that my eyes were at times seeing a
strangely blurry image. But behind me were three small children who were
screaming in horror as they tried to walk toward me. However, the
intense jolting motions of the earthquake kept throwing them to the
ground. And I couldn't get up to help them.
Turning back to what
was in front of me, the huge brick smoke stack continued its violent and
wild dance from left to right. And just as I wondered, “how could that
smoke stack do that without falling apart?” the smoke stack crashed
downward, blowing the laundry room to pieces. Moments ago, I had
considered making my way toward the laundry room for safety. Now it was a
death trap.
Then the rumbling and violent shaking began to end.
As
I carefully stood up, my body felt like the earth was still wobbling
and moving beneath my feet. I was terrified. Was it over, or would that
horrible, relentless shaking start again and drop me to my knees once
more.
As I stood there staring in horror at the destruction in
front of me, I was frozen, unable to move. What had happened to my
world? Was my family okay?
Suddenly, men were standing by the
smoking rubble of what was once a laundry room. A moment later, a
firetruck arrived. I could see the look of terror on the faces of the
firemen as one of them yelled to the crowd, “is it under control? Is
there a fire? We've got fire alarms going off everywhere. If it's under
control, we will have to leave right now.”
The crowd waved them off and the firetruck drove off.
Then I started slowly making my way toward our apartment. My legs were still wobbly, and my mind was numb.
In
the parking lot, cars had bounced around during the shaking and were
pointing in all directions. It was just one of many strange sights I
would see.
Then I found myself at the door to our apartment.
I
opened the door and hollered up the stairs, “Anna, Tom, are you
alright?” My sister and brother answered in tearful voices, “Mike,
Mike.”
Moments later, I would discover that my sister Anna, who
had just had surgery, had been thrown down the stairs during the quake.
Our
living room furniture was all over the place. The kitchen was a mess
and everything had been shaken from the cupboards onto the kitchen
floor.
Not long after I made my way home, mom and dad were
somehow able to get a call through to us. They were in downtown
Anchorage, but were okay and were making their way home. They were so
relieved that we were okay, and we were so happy that they were alright.
That
night we laid in bed with our clothes on because the strong aftershocks
made sleep impossible. And each sudden jolt reminded us that we were
not safe. Way into the night, we were constantly riding out massive
aftershocks, and we could hear people screaming in horror as the
relentless jolts sent them running into the streets.
As I wrote this story, I had a bit of a surprising reaction.
After
all these years, as I retold my story here in some detail, my eyes
filled with tears and I had to stop writing as I relived that five
minutes of sheer terror.
Thank God my family and me and my future wife Mary are all survivors of the 1964 earthquake.
Comments:
by Danny
From all the stories I read about this earthquake, yours was the scariest.
By the way, what happened to the kids who were trying to get to you after the quake stopped?
A Note from Mike of Anchorage Memories
Danny: Things were so crazy at that point that I just don't know.
I couldn't hear them anymore, and they didn't catch up to me. They were OK, they just went off in another direction.
by Lee White
I was driving west on 4th Avenue, just passed the Blue Moon Café.
At first, (when the earthquake struck) I thought I had a mechanical
problem. the street in front of me collapsed. I was too amazed to be
scared.
The reaction of the civil workers was amazing.
by Anonymous
Crazy, wavy concrete basement floor.
Upstairs, dishes crashing on the floor.
Four
days with no power--continuous fireplace burning, cooking with a camp
stove, using camp lanterns, warmish March temps, listening to radio
updates.
*Memories of the Anchorage you love
*History of Anchorage, Alaska
*Meet the Pioneers who built Anchorage