I was celebrating my sixteenth birthday two days early on
March 27, 1964. It was Good Friday and a school holiday. The plan for the day
was to go swimming at the Spa with my younger sister and a few neighborhood
friends and then come home for cake and ice cream. The Spa was the only public
swimming pool in Anchorage at the time. It was located on Arctic Boulevard
below the 15th Street hill across from what is now Valley of the Moon Park. It
was a solid practical building made of concrete and steel and had few
embellishments. The pool area had a high ceiling and tall glass windows all
around, which gave it an open, airy feeling.It was a great place to be on a cold March day, and we were
all having fun.
I was in the pool and didn’t notice anything unusual until
the water started moving on its own. My first thought was that someone was
draining the pool, and I looked around to find out why. I quickly realized the
whole building was moving and that everyone but me had gotten out of the pool
and was hanging onto the steel poles surrounding the pool. We were in the
middle of an earthquake! The movement of the water was making it difficult for
me to get out of the pool. When I looked around for help, I saw the lifeguard
under an archway, frozen in place with a look of panic on his face. A young boy
half my size reached for my hand and helped me out of the pool.
As I held onto one of the steel poles, I remember
experiencing a sense of awe and amazement at what was happening around me. I
watched the water roll rapidly back and forth, rising so high on one end of the
pool that at the other end, the bottom and sides were totally drained and
visible. I watched as a wall of water rose up over the edge of the pool and
moved towards the window. I saw daylight appear between the base of the wall of
windows and the floor as they separated from each other and the water rushed
out. I remember thinking it was like watching a small tidal wave in action and
I was in awe of the power of water. I was glad that I wasn’t still in the pool. Outside the windows I watched birch trees flip from side to
side, touching their tops to the ground on each side, and I wondered how they
could bend in half without breaking. The shaking stopped soon after this, and
we moved into the locker room, got dressed, and went out to find my father who
was picking us up. As a child I was able to experience the earthquake with more
wide-eyed curiosity than fear, but I do remember being happy to see my father
show up to take us home.
None of us realized at the time how much damage had been
done to the building and just how lucky we were. I remember seeing a big crack
in the archway above where the lifeguard stood and thinking that he hadn’t
picked such a safe place after all. There was also a large crack in the ground
outside the building, and we found out later this crack was so wide underneath
the building that it could have collapsed into it.
When my father drove us home, we found that mother was all
right, and our house in Rogers Park had little damage. My birthday cake was
still intact on a pedestal plate on the kitchen counter.
Colleen Mullaly was born in the Territory of Alaska in the
old Providence Hospital on 9th and L Streets in Anchorage in 1948 and has lived
here for most of her life. She finished her education with a Bachelor of Arts
in Anthropology at Alaska Methodist University (now Alaska Pacific University).
She worked for the state of Alaska for 30 years as a social worker. Mullaly has
raised twin sons; been through earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and windstorms;
seen a pope, an emperor, a president, and world-renowned artists; and met
wonderful friends through the years. She looks forward to what else Anchorage
has to offer.
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