San Francisco celebrates earthquake’s centenary
SAN FRANCISCO – This city awoke before sunrise Tuesday to mark the 100th anniversary of its darkest hour – a deadly early-morning earthquake that killed more than 3,000 and left half the city homeless.
As the first hints of dawn colored the sky, thousands gathered at Lotta’s Fountain on Market Street to observe a moment of silence for those who perished and to honor the survivors of the April 18, 1906, temblor, one of the worst natural disasters in U.S. history.
Men sported black bowlers and carried finely crafted walking canes. Women wore corseted dresses and platter hats. One man turned up in a stocking cap and nightshirt, illustrating how residents at the time were driven from their beds to wander the streets.
Ann Barbee, an office manager in Marin County, made it for the 50th anniversary of the Golden Gate Bridge in 1997 and rode the cable cars on the last day before they were closed for repairs.
“This is historic,” she said. “How could you not come?”
Tuesday’s activities – which also included 6 a.m. beers and Bloody Marys served up at nearby watering holes and a 10 a.m. parade – started in solemn remembrance as Mayor Gavin Newsom and other dignitaries laid a wreath at the fountain and recognized a dozen survivors in attendance.
The survivors were treated as celebrities. They signed autographs and were ushered to a breakfast in a 1931 Lincoln with whitewalls.
As one elderly survivor in a red sweater and pink scarf ambled onto the stage, she raised her arms in victory, like a boxer after a knockout.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Roving about like a game-show host, Newsom interviewed the survivors on a brisk morning where temperatures dipped into the low 50s.
How did white-haired Norma Norwood feel?
“Cold,” she responded.
Then, without missing a beat, she added, “But I’ve got Gavin Newsom to warm me up,” bringing a blush from the mayor, who’s young enough to be her great-grandson.
One after the other during the 90-minute event, officials boasted of how magnificently the city rebuilt itself. In the background hung the centennial commemoration’s official banner: “San Francisco Rising.”
“In the days after the quake, the writer Jack London wrote for eastern readers that ‘San Francisco is gone. Nothing remains of it but memories,’ ” Annemarie Conroy, executive director of the city’s Office of Emergency Services, told the crowd. “But we say today, ‘How wrong he was!’ “
As the 5:13 a.m. memorial moment neared, the crowd began an impromptu countdown. At the end, someone shouted, “Happy anniversary, San Francisco!”
The moment of silence that followed ended with the wail of fire engines. Several horse-drawn fire wagons, the type used to fight the fires that erupted after the 1906 quake, were wheeled past, prompting one woman to observe: “No wonder the whole city burned.”
But the survivors stole the show. Wrapped in fleece blankets provided by the event’s longtime organizer – Taren Sapienza – they pondered questions from Newsom. Norwood told the mayor she was “the result of the earthquake” – conceived and born in a tent in Golden Gate Park.
An hour later, brothers Matt and Kevin Murphy, San Francisco natives, toasted the earthquake with Budweiser at a downtown bar.
“Here’s to San Francisco,” Matt said, clinking his brother’s bottle. “We’re proud of this place.”
With that, a bleary-eyed, proud, reflective city stumbled into morning.