As published in the Queen Anne Cobblestone, March 2006

By Kim Turner, QAHS board member, and Research Chair

I've been corresponding (via email) with a woman who grew up mainly on Capitol Hill and Blake Island. We were remembering the 1949 Earthquake and where we were at the time, and how it all felt, what happened in our lives as a result. I have maintained for years that your first earthquake is the one by which you judge all successive ones. I should reflect that I mean the first one of which you are totally aware. I experienced an earthquake in 1946 which I didn't (and still don't) remember.
April 13, 1949, was the day I was measured and fitted with my first pair of glasses, at a small clinic on First Hill, run by Dr. Wightman and his nurse, Miss Cutting. I have never forgotten either of them, as they took care of all my glasses needs until Dr. Wightman's death (around 1960). We left the clinic and took a bus downtown where we were to meet a family friend, Jo Renner, for lunch at Rhodes. We were in the women's lounge when the earthquake hit.
My sister remembers Mother pushing each of us into some open fabric cupboards where we rode out the first part of the quake, then sat with us on the large sofa to wait and see if anything more was going to occur. The windows had fallen out and lay smashed on the street below, and there were areas where plaster had fallen from the ceiling, but we were seated directly under the big arch which separated the lounge from the store proper, and after a time took the stairs down to the main floor. I don’t remember that we ever connected with Jo that day. She later married Richard Morken and still lives in her home on Magnolia.
We took either a 3 or 4 Seattle Transit bus home. That is, to 5th North and Valley, from where we walked the rest of the way home. This would be a walk west on Aloha, past the School Administration building, and all the way over to Third Avenue North. Our house, just to the right and below the stairs which connect Third North with Ward Street, was a ca. 1910 modified craftsman-style house.
We walked into the house, and there was no damage. The chimney had not been loosened by the quake, and, although the downstairs bathroom medicine cabinet was sprung open, nothing had fallen out. None of the mantel ornaments had fallen, and there was not a single thing lost due to the quake. To this day I maintain that the south slope of Queen Anne Hill is the safest place to live, and I would willingly move back there if I could afford a place.
That was my first memorable earthquake, and was followed a month later by the death of my dad. When you are young you don't expect your dad to go to work in the morning and never come home again.
Anyone else with some earthquake memories to share?

Kim R. Turner, Research Chair

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