Weave the Web

So, you see, your phone calls and outpouring of love which I felt from so many of you were more important to me than you may ever know.  It was that thread, that reaching out that affirmed for me that connection with all of you, and that was all that mattered.

 

I was at Candlestick Park waiting for the opening of Game 3 in the World Series to begin when the quake hit.  I had been staying in San Francisco for the previous week taking care of two boys while their parents were in Europe.  They had box seats to all the games and I had been looking forward to going to Candlestick as I had never been before.  The two boys, ages 16 and 13, had tickets along the first base line;  I was separated from them with box seats along the third base line.

 

 

The actual quake, although lasting only about 15-20 seconds, was something I will never forget.  My attention was first drawn to the foul poles.  These poles are normally heavy, solid metal that stand straight and tall.  When I looked at them, they appeared to me like wheat swaying in a Kansas field…back and forth, back and forth.  I then was drawn to the score board: a huge black screen in center field that moments before had bee filled with numbers, innings, outs, and runs.  It billowed out in a big puff as if it were a silk sail, then sucked itself in like a concave prism, then went blank.

 

Some of the players were on the field; most had been in the dugouts waiting for the National Anthem.  The next thing that caught my attention was the players running out on to the field.  (They did not want to be caught under the concrete of the dugouts above them.)  I found myself laughing because here were these macho huge specimens literally dancing on their toes in a most effeminate way because he once solid field was now liquid and undulating.

 

Then the quake was over and all was quiet.  The reaction of the 60,000 fans was to cheer- very loudly.  What a great way to start a World’s Series we all thought!  No opening ceremonies could have topped that.  Now let’s get on with the game.  It was so weird because, other than the scoreboard being black and the lights out, everything seemed back to normal, and I found myself thinking someone had put something in my hotdog- my mind had played a huge trick on me, and the whole thing was just an  optical illusion and never really happened.  There was absolutely no way I could look out at that field and picture it in waves, or look at those huge solid straight standing foul poles and picture them swaying like pieces of wheat.  So I thought, “It really didn’t happen,” because logically it couldn’t have!

After the initial excitement and WOW of it wore off, I started to think a bit more clearly:  here it was 5:30 in the afternoon, there were 60,000 people in this enclosed space, and there is no electricity.  Not knowing yet that it had been such a devastating earthquake, I knew that they had to get all these people out of here before dark or they would have a real mess on their hands.  So I started to proceed to section 11 where the boys were.  Security people were trying to keep people in their seats – which at that point wasn’t too difficult as most spectators were waiting for the game to begin.

 

But then, those with radios, started spreading the news about the Bay Bridge collapse, and rumors of 6.8 or 7.3 began spreading. The PS system announced, “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, THOSE ON THE UPPER DECK PLEASE FILE QUIETLY THROUGH THE NEAREST EXIT; THOSE ON THE LOWER LEVEL PLEASE PROCEED DIRECTLY TO THE FIELD… So a bit more of a sense of urgency began setting in. Bay Bridge collapse After what seemed like an interminable time, I finally found the two boys and said, “The game is going to be canceled, let’s get out of here now.” As we were walking out, the announcement of the game being cancelled was made and all the fans started leaving. We were all disappointed, but very calm and orderly. It was truly amazing.

 

It took us 3 ½ hours to get home. (Normally it is a ½ hour drive.) And it was then, hearing the spotty reports on the radio, that we realized the tragedy of it all. I think my mind will play the “What if…” game for a long time to come. The potential for sheer calamity in Candlestick Park with 60,000 people in an enclosed place built on landfill was enormous. We had no idea there was structural damage until several days afterward. If any of those tiers had fallen, if it had been after dark, if the crowd had panicked for any reason, there would have been a stampede and no way out.

 

Sitting in traffic for miles and miles, I kept thinking, “What about Arthur?” He was in the city and I had no idea where he would have been or how he was. I figured Zack Brunette, who was staying with us, was up in Petaluma and there was no news that there was damage up there, but I still couldn’t help but to worry. Well, it turns out that Arthur was in a car with a friend from the Pacific Exchange. They had gone down to the beach for the afternoon and were just on their way home. Arthur said it was really hard just keeping the car on the road as the road was undulating like waves underneath and causing the car to go all over the road. But Arthur was fine about the whole thing; almost euphoric! Being more accepting of the universe, this was just one more notch to add to his every growing list of life experiences: Rowing down the Henley, hiking through the Himalayas, and being in the San Francisco earthquake of ’89! As for Zack, little did I know that he had come to the city for a job interview!! He was driving down Van Ness (not far at all from the Marina district where the horrendous fires broke out) and he said he thought at first that he had gotten four flat tires as his car went “bulub, bulub” on the road. Then it stopped and once again the concrete was firm and off he went. Literally minutes after the quake, Zachary Brunette was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge on his way back to Petaluma! My god, ignorance is bliss!!

 

When we finally got home to this beautiful house in Pacific Heights, we had no electricity. Kitchen cabinets had opened up with glasses smashed on the floor. Heavy artwork was either smashed on the ground or totally askew on the walls. Mirrors in bathrooms were broken on the floor. A large bookcase was turned over with the books all over the room, and computers that had been on shelves were tipped over. And yet, the house was standing tall and straight and looked sold. It was as though some vandals had come and ransacked the place, because, once again, it was beyond the logic of the human mind to think that at 5:04 the house had actually swayed and rocked enough to have caused the damage.

 

It seems as if the focus of all of us now is to try to bring back our routines and a sense of normalcy. This is not going to happen overnight. I came home to Petaluma Thursday night after being away from my home for ten days. It was wonderful to be in familiar surroundings with Zack and Arthur again. The cupboard was bare so we went out to get a pizza before doing some grocery shopping. I just reveled in being with those two wonderful guys, and we had such a nice dinner. When the waitress brought the check she asked me if these were my sons? I said “No,” that I was only his mother- pointing to Arthur. “Why do you ask?” And she said, “You all look as though you have such a great relationship and are having such a good time together. Its just nice to see.” Well to have a total stranger validate what was so important to me, made me feel so great.

 

Then a very strange thing happened yesterday morning. I was driving back in to the City. Everything was fine. I was cruising along, felling as if I had everything under control. After all, I am a solid, secure, stable lady. Then I approached the Golden Gate Bridge and my heart started pounding. I started to breathe heavily and a wave of fear just overtook me without any warning. There I was on the bridge and panic was setting in. I tried to toss if off and talk to myself. “Nancy, don’t be sill. It is really alight. There are a lot of cars along with you, and nothing is going to happen.” But all I could feel was, ‘GET ME OFF THIS BRIDGE…I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE…NOW!” And the sense of relief when I finally made it to the other side was unbelievable. It was so weird, and almost surreal. But the sense of being totally out of control of my emotions really unsettled me. I think that sense of unpredictability and unsureness will prevail for a long time. Especially when you consider the horrendous statement that “this isn’t even the BIG one!!”

 

To think that another earthquake bigger than this one, is looming 60 miles under the earth’s crust somewhere along the California coast is downright terrifying. Well, I hope this letter has been informative, if not entertaining to you in the earthquake free ones of the world! I know it has been therapeutic for me, and I will keep a copy of it to hand down to my grandchildren along with the hand-typed San Francisco Chronicle that says, “EXTRA, EXTRA” and was printed without electricity!! I know it is impossible to live in a heightened state of awareness where nothing is taken for granted. But, as things begin to return to normalcy, know that you all have been etched yet a little deeper in to my heart. Cherish those people around you, for I remind you of the gift which Susan Tidyman left us as she held up a beautiful colored wooden block in her hand: “This side says, ‘I LOVE YOU,; and this side says, ‘LOVE IS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS.’”