A remarkable story, The Big Alaska Earthquake, lets you experience the 1964 earthquake through the eyes of a 14-year-old girl, living in Valdez.
I was 14 years old, and we lived in Valdez when the earthquake happened.
I'm now 66. Some of my memories are fuzzy, but I'll endeavor to keep
things accurate.
We four kids had been home all day at our
home site--two miles out on the highway--due to the Good Friday holiday.
Mom and Dad had been at work all day, then they had gone grocery
shopping, partly for eggs to die for Easter.
The SS Chena was at
the big dock. Daddy always long shored when ships came in. Our “across-the-creek” neighbors had stayed in town. Smokey was long shoring
for the first time. Daddy had promised the four kids a forklift ride,
and he wanted to get back quickly, for them.
My brother Gary was
outside chopping wood. I was washing dishes. Our parents had barely
gotten home and the groceries (including the eggs) were on the table,
when everything began to shake.
We weren't unfamiliar with
earthquakes, so at first, we just went about our business. Within
seconds, we realized it was more serious than usual. The noise was
deafening, and the motion kept changing repeatedly from up-and-down, to
sideways.
Daddy yelled for us to get under the solid archway
between the kitchen and dining rooms. Mom, Frank, Cindi, and I tried to
stay in that doorway. Daddy stood by the kitchen table trying to shield
us from flying objects.
Gary tried to get through the door into
the porch adjoining the kitchen. Through the kitchen windows we could
see him hanging desperately onto the doorknob. The door would swing
inward, but as soon as he would try to let go and get over to us, the
door would swing outward, which it was NOT designed to do! I remember
screaming, “Get inside, Gary!” Finally, with Dad's help, he was able to
join us.
Then things got worse. We had snowbanks on either side
of our driveway. Thankfully, that year we had a snowblower, and Daddy
could drive right up to the house. That hadn't always been so.
At first, we could see those snowbanks and our car outside the windows,
but just as Gary got inside suddenly we were plunged into blackness.
Then we could see outside again. Daddy yelled that we had been
underground. That happened three times.
Daddy again yelled for us
to get to safety--this time under the dining room table. We had to keep
crawling all over the floor to keep up with that table—funny now, but
not then!
Even when the shaking stopped except for aftershocks,
things weren't over. Suddenly, Daddy screamed at us, “Get in the
car…NOW!” Everyone except me headed for the door. I had spotted my
borrowed accordion on a chair in our “sunken” living room, which was
about to get REALLY sunken by a flood of glacial silt! I was determined
to get that accordion to safety!
As I reached it, and Daddy came
running to get ME to safety, my stocking feet got soaked with the icy
sludge that was already pouring in. We got the accordion to the table.
He didn't have much choice; I was carrying it, and he was pulling me.
We
rushed to the car with the awful flood gushing all down the driveway.
He immediately started the engine and started backing out. When he
reached the turnaround to go upward toward the highway, we felt a couple
of BIG bumps, but he gunned the engine, kept the wheels turning, and we
finally got to the top...where we were forced to stop...just in time to
keep the front end from heading into a HUGE crevice. It was about five
feet across.
Daddy always carried shovels in the car, so he and
Mom got out and started throwing snow and debris into the crevice, but
they soon gave up, saying that they couldn't hear anything hit bottom!
By
then, except for minor noise from continuing aftershocks, it was eerily
quiet. We realized later, that earlier that day there had been little
wild animal activity. Even our own animals had been jumpy. Animals
always seem to know when a disaster is coming.
Suddenly, Mom
looked toward town, and quietly said, “Frank...look at the light on the
mountains.” Of course, we all looked. It seemed obvious that a good part
of the town must have been on fire. We found out later that it was one
of the tank farms.
Daddy decided to try again to bridge the
crevice. In the meantime, Mom, Gary, and I walked down to the house to
get what supplies we could. We were able to get all the groceries. All
the eggs were intact! We got clean dry clothing for everyone except me.
My clothing had been in the bottom drawers of my dresser and was soaked
and muddy. The others' shoes weren't totally wet, so dry socks helped,
but my shoes had been in the living room, buried in the mud. Mom did get
a few blankets and pillows on one trip. Daddy didn't want to keep the
car running because he wasn't sure when or where we'd be able to get
gas.
We kids and Mom were terrified of the trips back and forth
for supplies because at the bottom of the driveway we had found another
chasm. We were able to get across it by jumping, the first time, and
Mom found some boards to put over it, but we could tell that probably
the only way the car had gotten over it was because the water had been
rushing through it so fast that it had helped carry us across.
Mom
and I made our final trip for supplies after Daddy sent Gary over to
the Stuart's house. Their dogs had been barking like crazy. Gary always
loved animals. He set the dogs free from their kennel. He said the house
looked like a total loss.
By the time we all got settled back in
the car and were huddled into blankets, vehicles had begun pouring out
of town, headed for six-mile hill which was on bedrock and had a small
waterfall that usually ran all winter.
After many vehicles
passed, a friend and his family came by in his tow truck. He had long
boards that he and Daddy put over the crevice. We all “rode” in the car
as it was carefully pulled onto the highway—yet another terrifying
event.
At some point we learned that anyone who had been on the docks during
the quake was probably gone. It was later confirmed that Smokey and all
of his family were among those who disappeared during the tsunami.
We
drove to the picnic area, but stayed only a short time. Daddy was
worried about vagrants and looting. Even though we knew most of our
small town's population, there were often a few drifters. He was
worried that one of them might try to loot what was left of our place if
we were gone all night.
He drove back and parked on the highway
near the driveway. At that point, I broke down and cried hysterically.
Mom finally gave me half of a sleeping pill from her purse. The next
thing I knew, it was morning, and we kids were all wondering what was
for breakfast.
I still carry a reminder of that night. One patch
of hair at my right temple had gone completely white by morning. It
never changed back. Before I was 30 years old, all of my hair was
totally white. When beauticians asked about it, I'd tell them this
story.
Throughout the next day we heard more horror stories as
people (mostly men) headed back into town to see what could be done
immediately for housing and food. We later learned that 31 members of
our community would never return.
By evening it was decided that
at least the women and children should head for Tonsina Lodge where the
proprietors had kindly agreed to let anyone stay at least one night.
Then we were sent to the Glenallen High School to register as Valdez
survivors, after which we were parceled out to other places of refuge.
Our
family and several others were graciously hosted by a Christian
boarding school near Copper Center. We stayed about five days. Mom then
decided to take us to Fairbanks where plane rides had been arranged for
people wanting to leave the state. We were bused there.
After a
few days at a Fairbanks hotel, the three younger kids were sent to South
Dakota, where they stayed alternately with our two sets of grandparents
until we picked them up during the summer.
She then went back to
Valdez to help with recovery efforts, and I stayed in Fairbanks with a
friend whom I'd met during my first two trips to the Alaska Spelling
Bee. I had already won my third Bee in Valdez, and was supposed to
attend the State Bee in Anchorage. Diane's family let me stay with them
to attend school with her at Main Jr. High to finish 8th grade. The huge
school was terrifying to me at first, but I grew to love it.
The
Fairbanks Kiwanis Club gave me a scholarship to represent Valdez at the
Spelling Bee. Diane (representing Fairbanks) and I traveled together
and stayed with the family (prior Valdezians) with whom I had previously
stayed. Their house had been devastated by the quake, also, but we were
welcomed to their new home.
When school let out, Mom and Dad
picked me up, and we drove the AlCan to Aberdeen, South Dakota (where
they were both born and raised) to pick up the other kids. During the
week spent there we saw tornadoes and HUGE hail that left dents in our
car. On our way home, we narrowly avoided another tornado just south of
Edmonton. Plus, while camping one night, huge caterpillars overran our
tent and crawled into our sleeping bags (yuck).
I don't remember
much else about that summer, except one thing. We had been living and
fixing things up at two-mile. One day, a friend came running down our
somewhat-less-elevated hill toward the house. He had been working with
the Coast and Geodetic Survey, deciding what to do about repairs.
He
sternly ordered us, “Pack up and get out of here!” The men had put
instruments down through small crevices in the road, and for miles
around, there was nothing but space. Their instruments never reached
anything solid!
By that time, there were rental trailers available
in town, for State workers. Mom was eligible, and we ended up in a
small court, where we lived until Daddy built a small house on our
replacement land grant in the new town site.
Life goes on.
Linda A. Wingfield
✓ Anchorage Memories
✓ Interesting Facts about Alaska
✓ History of Alaska and Anchorage Pioneers
✓ PLUS You can listen at home, or on the go
✓ FREE and delivered by email on the first 3 Sundays of every month
***PLUS our “Humorous Stories from ALASKA” ebook when you join.
To join, add your email below: