The Northwest’s Long Series of Wake-Up Quakes

Author Arne Christensen standing beside (not underneath) the Viaduct

As the 20th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake came along last year, I realized there wasn’t much being done online to remember the Nisqually earthquake, and I started a blog with the goal of collecting stories from people who went through it.

As the months went by and I looked at books and websites like the Pacific Northwest Seismic Network, I was surprised to read about the persistent wave of strong earthquakes that’s been hitting Washington and Oregon, from the infamous 1700 Cascadia subduction zone quake on up to today. So I took a broader approach to my project by assembling stories and pictures about the earthquakes, mostly from Seattle-area newspapers.

Here are some of those stories and pictures, presented chronologically, from 1700 to spring 1996. If the Nisqually quake and the numerous deadly quakes of 2010 haven’t awakened you to the Northwest’s considerable earthquake danger, perhaps this will.

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1700: A 2005 article by Ruth S. Ludwin and others called “Serpent Spirit-Power Stories along the Seattle Fault” quoted one account in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer of Sunday, March 20, 1904:

When Seattle was first settled by the white people the Indians told of a great earthquake that had occurred some fifty years before. They related that the shocks were so severe that the earth opened up in great cracks and that their little mat and slab huts were shaken to the ground and there were great landslides.

The largest slide near Seattle was immediately south of West Point lighthouse. It is about a mile in extent and can be clearly seen at the present day. The lower bench of Kinnear Park slid at that time from the cliffshore, carrying giant fir trees that still stand on the slide. The Indians said that the mountains “momoked poh” (shot at each other), and roaring of the tidal waves was frightful.

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1872: A description by the Weekly Mountaineer of The Dalles, Oregon:

On Saturday evening last, at about half past 9 o’clock, this section of country was visited by a shock of earthquake, which, as far as we are able to learn, did little or no damage. The vibrations lasted probably thirty seconds, and seemed to be from the east to west. The sensation we felt was a very peculiar one and had a tendency in a moment to destroy the illusion and faith we have always had in the stability of the surface of the earth. Animals, especially cows, dogs, and swine, seemed to experience the disturbance, if we judge from the commotion they made at that time.

1873: A letter J.B. Tichenor sent from Port Orford, Oregon, said:

The quiet of our town was somewhat disturbed last evening at 9 o’clock, by a terrible earthquake, the first ever felt in this section. A rotary shock … which lasted fully a minute. No noise accompanied it, not one was hurt, no building thrown down but had we brick structures in our town, not a building would have been standing this morning. I experienced the heavy shake of 1868 in San Francisco, which was nothing to be compared with the one here last evening. Later as people came into town this morning, we hear that it was felt about the same in all quarters within the distance of 10 miles from here.

A loud noise was heard off at sea west of Cape Blanco. It appeared like the rush and upheaving of the waters; in fact the water was seen to rise and fall, boiling and hissing. This took place, or was noticed immediately after the shock, and the people in that vicinity were making preparations for climbing a tree, or getting for higher ground. No tidal wave followed, and nothing unusual noticed on the beach. No signs of higher water. Light house and Tower still standing at this time unable to learn if any damage was done to either.

1909: From the Anacortes American:

J.L. Redenbaugh, manager of the local system of the Pacific States Telephone and Telegraph Co., has the bravest as well as the prettiest bunch of girls in his office that were ever shaken up by a terrestial wobble. The earthquake struck Anacortes with vague uncertain wiggles at exactly 14 minutes to four o’clock last Monday afternoon, January 11.

Nearly everybody rushed out to see the landscape escape, but the telephone girls stuck to their posts like true heroines and for at least half an hour after the shudder or shrug or whatever it was their dainty fingers fairly twinkled as they made connection on the switchboard for the multitude of subscribers (there are 510 in all now) who simultaneously wanted central and then some. The girls say they were really too busy to take fright and flight, and as they answered more than 1,100 calls within half an hour after the terrestial flutter maybe that explains their heroism, but anyhow they deserve gentle calls from all the subscribers for at least thirty days. . . .

It is said that Guy Baty, who has been hobbling around with a cane for many months, was completely cured by the unprecedented shuffle and left his cane to shift for itself in the deserted rooms of the Anacortes Chess & Checker club, while he and the city health officer engaged in a spirited footrace just of the fun of it.

No damage was done anywhere in this neighborhood, no plastering was knocked down, no chimneys tumbled over and no minds not previously out of plumb were unbalanced. Over in Bellingham plastering was cracked, one sober man was knocked down a flight of stairs and the ice in Lake Padden was cut in four slices like a pumpkin pie.

1939: The Seattle P-I reported:

A couple of gangsters were blazing away at each other in the closing scenes of the feature picture at the Orpheum Theater when the temblor was felt last night. The audience’s first reaction was a mild surprise. Then somebody said in an awed tone: “Let’s get out of here.”

The rush for the doors began, wildly at first and then with mild order as more sensible theater goers, some of whom admitted afterwards they had experienced the same sensations often in California, advised the patrons to “take it easy.” . . . Don Geddes, theater manager, said there were no accidents. No damage had been done. “Too bad they missed the picture’s finish. The riot squad and the fire department arrive in the next scene and there’s really a panic.”

At the Egyptian Theater in the University District a news reel was showing heavy German artillery in action and for a few seconds many in the audience felt that an unusually realistic rumbling effect was being added for their entertainment. There was an exodus for the exits when it became apparent they were experiencing an earthquake.

1945: J.F. Little was out fishing on Little Rattlesnake Lake with a friend when this quake happened. Little: “There was a terrific rumble like a thunderbolt or a big explosion. We were in a boat. I was standing up, and it almost shot out from under me. Then a giant whirlpool appeared in the lake, spewing fish to the surface on all sides of us. We were about convinced there were no fish in the lake, but that earthquake taught us different. We were some time figuring out what had happened. At first, we thought maybe some flyer had dropped a bomb on Mount Si for practice.”

Carl Edgerly, a druggist in North Bend, said: “I was out on the golf course when I felt it. I looked up at Mount Si just in time to see a huge shelf crack off and go plunging down the side of the mountain with a roar.”

1946: The P-I interviewed a variety of people with quake stories. Mike Lynch, a downtown bail bondsman, said of the Smith Tower: “I think it swayed for about half a minute. I was afraid it might fall over.”

Walter Callahan, the King County jailer, said, “There was no panic, but a lot of excitement. When I got to the women’s wards the girls were gathered at the door, repeating the Lord’s prayer.”

Mrs. Jewell Mitchell, who was visiting her son, a convicted murder, in the county jail office, added: “I’ve been used to California where we expect earthquakes. But this came so suddenly. . . I didn’t think you had them in Washington.”

1946, quake #2: In the Seattle Times, W.J. McMahan of the Milwaukee Railroad said this about watching the Sears building (which is now the Starbucks headquarters building) during the quake: “The movement of the building was not very noticeable because everything else, including the ground and myself, was rocking with it. But the quake whipped the flagpole on the top of the building like a cracking whip. I thought sure it was going to snap off.”

The Times quoted local weather forecaster Harry Torbitt saying: “Earthquakes have nothing to do with future weather conditions, but some persons even try to blame these shocks on us. People need not worry; the quake isn’t going to cause unusual weather like a midsummer snowstorm. People kept us busy throughout the day, calling to ask about the quake, but that isn’t our business.”

1949: Phil Orlando, a steelworker who was standing on one of the 500-foot towers of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge (that is, the replacement for the Narrows Bridge that snapped in high winds in November 1940), told the Times:

I had just sent in the last signal, and told the men it was pretty close to lunch time so we’d knock off for a safety meeting. The tower began swaying, and then the casting began snapping off the 1-inch bolts it was fastened with.

I jumped off the casting. It began to slide toward me, so I jumped back on. Then I jumped off again and finally caught a safety line and hung on for all I was worth. Just as I caught the line the tower whipped again and the casting I had been standing on disappeared. The tower kept shaking and I hung on, worrying about how my brother was making out underneath. I think the tower swayed six feet east and west and two feet north and south, but it seemed it was swinging a mile.

1949: Part of a story Jim Flynn sent to me early this year:

My mother and her “Den 9″ Cub Scouts were in the cupola of the State’s Capitol building in Olympia when the 1949 earthquake struck. Keystones were falling all around them; my mom hung on to the brass doorknob and told the kids to hang on to her. If the quake had lasted a few seconds longer (she was told later), the entire top of the Capitol would have collapsed, with the Cubs going along for the ride. I had been up on an earlier tour, and I had to convince a State Patrolman that there were people up there, on top of the building. Another group of Cubs was stuck in the elevator and had to be let down with the power off.

After the quake, my mother led the Cubs down a darkened, circular iron stairway inside the Capitol dome with cracked plaster falling around them. They arrived at a landing where they could see people far below. The huge chandelier (designed by Tiffany) was also swinging slowly below them. It swung back and forth, slowly, for many days afterwards.

1962: The Oregonian said of this quake that came just before the November elections: “Monday night’s violent, though brief tremor was one of a series [of earthquakes], each recalling to mind the fact that the ‘young’ mountains of the Pacific slope . . . are on the move. Monday night’s quake found us already conditioned to the sound of falling chimneys and to the light of candles. For it came less than a month after we were brushed by Typhoon Frieda’s swirling skirt. . . . We must agree that the loss of life has been providentially low. The daily routine has scarcely missed a beat. But we don’t have to like it. The wonder is that some people still complain about the soft Oregon rain.”

1965: From Knute Berger: “I was at before-school orchestra practice at John Muir elementary. Our teacher, Mr. Bloom (who looked just like Richard Nixon) continued to tune a violin throughout the quake telling us all to be calm. I put my French horn over my head for protection as cracks appeared in the ceiling of the school lunchroom overhead.”

1965: The Times quoted Space Needle Restaurant manager Basil Miaullis saying:

First we felt a bounce and than an oscillation–a whipping around. Everybody stayed put. There was no panic. No one ran for the elevators. And when it was all over, everybody finished breakfast just about as if it never had happened.

John Graham, the architect whose firm designed the Space Needle, was here. He wanted to know how much the Needle swayed. It swayed a little more than it did during the big Columbus Day windstorm in October, 1962, during the World’s Fair. It was just like riding the top of a flagpole.

The Space Needle has such a low center of gravity that it did not affect us as much as people might think. All we lost was a couple of bottles of booze. This place is built to take it.

A post-quake ad from “Olympia’s Chrysler-Plymouth Dealer” said: Earthquake Topples Prices At State Motors:

1980: The Mt. St. Helens eruption was triggered by an earthquake, as Jim Zollweg of the U.S. Geological Survey explained to the P-I: “Right at the surface is where the volcano erupts, so scientists at the time were paying a lot of attention to that. That’s where the mountain was actually bulging, and that’s where the mountain failed. A magnitude 5.1 earthquake triggered the landslide that essentially opened up the crater and released the magma and gases.”

1995: In the Times, Nancy Mendoza, spokeswoman for the Tacoma-Pierce County chapter of the American Red Cross, said: “I was in the kitchen talking on the telephone. The whole house started moving. Neighbors came running down banging on my door. People were right up on their porches almost instantly.”

And, in the aftermath of the Kobe earthquake, she warned: “Boy, if we’re going to get more of these, people should get themselves prepared. This is sure a wake-up call for people. We ought to seriously think about getting ready for an earthquake instead of worrying about it.”

1996: Seattle Mariners broadcaster Dave Niehaus said this about exiting the broadcast booth right after the 5.3 Duvall earthquake of May 2, 1996, during a game at the Kingdome vs. the Cleveland Indians:

Three years ago I was in Los Angeles during an earthquake, I know what they can do. I turned around (and) my producer was as white as a sheet, things were rolling back and forth in the booth and I said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re having an earthquake” – and I’m out of here.

We ran down the ramps and once I was outside I went into the TV truck and got on the telephone to the station. Was there dead air? You’d have to ask KIRO, I wasn’t around. I didn’t want to go down with the ship.