Sure wish I had a video of me trying to crawl under a 6" lip at the contractor's counter of the lumber yard in Santa Cruz. Every time I would crawl up and tuck my head under it, the next surge would throw me back out about 3 feet. I don't remember just how many times I had to crawl back to the counter, but it seemed like at least a dozen. 8 foot florescent light tubes were dropping from the ceiling all over the place, and a couple smacked down right next to me. Hardware racks were toppling over into each other and the whole giant warehouse and showroom were a complete disaster. Lumber stacks out in the yard were also a nasty mess.
A couple of blocks toward the beach from the lumber company was the old brick coffee company building where the two young workers were killed when it collapsed. Many brick buildings fell or were damaged extensively and had to be torn down later. As I went outside after the initial quake subsided, a reddish fog of brick dust was rising up over the San Lorenzo river, moving in an easterly direction. Cars were askew in the parking lot and the light poles were still swaying. Then the first aftershock hit, and the huge historic church steeple on the hill above the lumber yard started shaking again like a dog shedding water. The rattling of the shingles and boards was really loud, and the shingles were flying off like mad. After that aftershock subsided, the steeple was nearly barren of shingles. On every street bricks and chimney parts were scattered over lawns, and if you looked up on the roofs, there were the telltale holes where the chimneys once stood, and a trail of red and white/gray down the shingles.
On my way home, of course all power was off and people were actually being courteous and waiting their turn at all intersections. That's what struck me the hardest. I may never see that kind of courtesy again, but it was amazing that those rat racers were so nice. I guess they were all in shock. My first duty was to go around the neighborhood with my trusty battery drill, some plywood and screws and board up several broken windows for the folks. Some horses got loose and ran across hwy 1 in Capitola, killing one driver and at least one of the animals. A fellow north of town was sunbathing at the beach back away from the water and up against a bluff, and the bluff collapsed, burying him. The authorities dug the body out some time later.
Us glaziers worked 12 hour days for several weeks without overtime pay, but we were fine with that. The ugly part was many homeowners would greet us with a snotty attitude, usually mad because they weren't first to have their glass replaced that day. We had to wait for truckloads of glass to be brought over from the monterey shop, because nearly all of the glass and mirror in our shop was destroyed. We had to lay 2x12 planks over piles of glass to get the glass trucks out so the loader could go in and clean up the mess. My truck was the only one damaged (of course). The crazy part of the whole scenario was the moving ground at the job sites. The ground was like jello, and almost made us seasick, constantly in motion just enough to feel it. Many thousands of aftershocks for a long time afterwards. Spooky as heck. My wife was amazed that the emergency broadcast system alert on the radio was NOT a test.
Hope you enjoyed the read,
Terry B
A couple of blocks toward the beach from the lumber company was the old brick coffee company building where the two young workers were killed when it collapsed. Many brick buildings fell or were damaged extensively and had to be torn down later. As I went outside after the initial quake subsided, a reddish fog of brick dust was rising up over the San Lorenzo river, moving in an easterly direction. Cars were askew in the parking lot and the light poles were still swaying. Then the first aftershock hit, and the huge historic church steeple on the hill above the lumber yard started shaking again like a dog shedding water. The rattling of the shingles and boards was really loud, and the shingles were flying off like mad. After that aftershock subsided, the steeple was nearly barren of shingles. On every street bricks and chimney parts were scattered over lawns, and if you looked up on the roofs, there were the telltale holes where the chimneys once stood, and a trail of red and white/gray down the shingles.
On my way home, of course all power was off and people were actually being courteous and waiting their turn at all intersections. That's what struck me the hardest. I may never see that kind of courtesy again, but it was amazing that those rat racers were so nice. I guess they were all in shock. My first duty was to go around the neighborhood with my trusty battery drill, some plywood and screws and board up several broken windows for the folks. Some horses got loose and ran across hwy 1 in Capitola, killing one driver and at least one of the animals. A fellow north of town was sunbathing at the beach back away from the water and up against a bluff, and the bluff collapsed, burying him. The authorities dug the body out some time later.
Us glaziers worked 12 hour days for several weeks without overtime pay, but we were fine with that. The ugly part was many homeowners would greet us with a snotty attitude, usually mad because they weren't first to have their glass replaced that day. We had to wait for truckloads of glass to be brought over from the monterey shop, because nearly all of the glass and mirror in our shop was destroyed. We had to lay 2x12 planks over piles of glass to get the glass trucks out so the loader could go in and clean up the mess. My truck was the only one damaged (of course). The crazy part of the whole scenario was the moving ground at the job sites. The ground was like jello, and almost made us seasick, constantly in motion just enough to feel it. Many thousands of aftershocks for a long time afterwards. Spooky as heck. My wife was amazed that the emergency broadcast system alert on the radio was NOT a test.
Hope you enjoyed the read,
Terry B
