My Earthquake Story

Star-Ledger, The (Newark, NJ)

'RUMBLING' RECOUNTED

 NAT GOTTLIEB  
Published: October 18, 1989

One minute I was killing time in the press room waiting for the game to begin. The next moment I thought I was going to be killed.

First the table I was sitting at began to tremble and shake. Then a 10- foot-wide corrugated door attached to the press room shook as if a hundred subway trains were rumbling into Grand Central Station at once.

For 15 seconds Candlestick Park trembled on its foundation. Writers in the press room stared ashen-faced at each other and then one ran to stand underneath a concrete beam. Suddenly, everybody rushed to get under it.

 

Outside in the stands, it was worse. "It felt like I was riding a surfboard," said Bob Blanche, a musician from nearby Pacifica. "I was standing in a soda line when it happened."

 

John Moller, who flew in from Union City, N.J., for the game, tried to find his sense of humor.

 

"I came out here from Jersey just for the earthquake," quipped Moller, who said he sells carpets.

 

From all early indications, there was no panic in the stands.

In fact, hardened Californians, who made up the bulk of the 60,000-plus crowd, seemed to relish what they almost considered a pre-game ceremony.

"People let out a roar right after it, like a cheer for the Giants," said Dave Planka of Southern Hills, Calif. "This will be great for the Giants. It's an omen."

 

For fans in center field, it was not as amusing.

 

One fan who had been in the center-field bleachers, Steve Pressey of San Francisco, was walking around with a huge brick in his hands.

"The whole staircase is littered with these," Pressey said. "We thought the overhead rafter was going to fall right on us."

As Pressey talked to reporters, a fan walked by, saw the brick and quipped, "Have Mitchell sign it, it will be worth money some day," referring to San Francisco left fielder Kevin Mitchell.

 

The quake seemed to last about 15 seconds. Minutes later, people were seen getting in the beer lines.

 

The general feeling was, "Let the game begin."

 

Marty Gaewhiler, a construction worker from San Francisco, even blamed the earthquake on the invasion of Candlestick Park by Oakland Athletics fans.

"That's what happens when you have too many (Oakland) A's fans coming to the Stick (Candlestick)," Gaewhiler said. "The Stick reacted. It's all fun."

 

Among those who were badly shaken by the event was Todd Develbiss.

"I was in the Los Angeles quake in 1933," said Develbiss, 73. "This was much worse. This quake rocked. The other one was more of a roller. I've never been so scared in my whole life."

 

Fans in the upper decks and skyboxes seemed the most shaken.

 

"We were in a skybox and the whole thing was shaking," said Kim Clanton, a bookkeeper from San Francisco. "I've lived through quakes where you had tremors that maybe break things on the shelves, but we were swaying (in the box)."

 

When the game was finally canceled due to lack of electricity, fans filed calmly out of the stadium.

 

Traffic on access roads outside the stadium was hopelessly snarled.

Many people remained in the stadium, drinking beer at the concession stands, which remained open.

 

Meanwhile, in downtown San Francisco, people quickly recovered from the initial shock and remained in good spirits as they waited for power to be restored.

 

Hundreds of people gathered in Union Square to get away from the threat of falling buildings, though there was little apparent damage in the area.

 

Nobody panicked after the quake, and people quickly and quietly left downtown buildings for the relative safety of the streets.

 

Although traffic lights were knocked out, traffic in the Union Square vicinity was moving smoothly.

 

The most obvious damage occurred at the I. Magnin department store on the square, which lost about half its windows from eight floors. Some passers-by were injured by the falling glass.

 

At the supposedly "earthquake-proof" Hilton Hotel, emergency power was on and the staff was dispensing refreshments to guests, who chatted merrily in the lobby.

 

Within 10 minutes of the earthquake, wags on the street were already referring to "the World Series that shook the world."