San Francisco's Marina District Ignores Its Seismic Plight

A few months ago S.F. location manager Cathryn "Catbird" Blum called and asked if I'd like to be interviewed for a BBC "programmme" about geology called "Journeys From The Centre of the Earth." I was a little surprised. Why would a show about geology be interested in talking to me? For what do I know about rocks? The only real qualification I might have is a long, yet ancient, history of getting stoned in Marina saloons.

Though that might have been a side effect of being in a major earthquake, the more salient point was that I, as a radio reporter, extensively covered the Loma Prieta Earthquake in 1989 for KQED-FM. Yes, I lived on Chestnut Street at that time. I saw the fire at Beach and Divisadero, the collapsed homes, the terrified residents, the dazed, empty gaze of the helpless locals as they watched their homes being "red-tagged," that is, condemned. Some were lucky enough to have a couple of minutes to run upstairs and gather what possessions they could. I also knew the woman whose baby was crushed to death in her arms when the building came down at Fillmore
and Cervantes.

The BBC will be airing their show on earthquakes to coincide with the 100th anniversary of the Big Quake of 1906 this month. The thrust of their interest lies in how well Marina residents are prepared for another quake and why would they live here in the first place, given the dodgy geologic track record the Marina has for seismic calamity.

I met the film crew under the rotunda of the Palace of Fine Arts on a cold, rainy blustery day. Iain Stewart, the convivial Glasgow-born "presenter" of the show, said the weather reminded him of the Highlands. I kept thinking about what would happen if a quake struck while we were standing there, would the rotunda come tumbling down around our ears? The Marina is ground zero for another major quake. As a geologist, Stewart knows where the action is -- or could be.

The Brits, who live on the seismically-settled island of Albion, seem puzzled that we would live here with the Sword of Damocles hovering over us, with an inevitable catastrophe waiting to destroy the City, as it did a mere 100 years ago -- a snap of the fingers in geological terms.

"Don't people here in this Marina District worry about a quake recurring?" Stewart asked. "Why would they buy homes here, knowing what happened in 1989?"

Some may or may not recall that the Marina took a big hit in the Loma Prieta. Many homes, particularly those with garages on the first floor, collapsed. Edifices on the street corners were also vulnerable. But weirdly, much of the damage was seemingly random. One house was battered and twisted, another next door seemed untouched. We now know this had much to do with the quality of the landfill underneath the homes. The lagoons used to run through the what is now the Marina.

There was no Marina, as we know it, before the land was created with debris, much of it from the detritus left by the destruction from the Great Quake of 1906. Broken sinks, toilets, burnt lumber, and so on. A great irony. The man-made landscape set the scene for the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition, a spectacle that was designed to show the world that San Francisco had literally risen from the ashes. Yet another irony. When the fair was dismantled a year or so later, a very nice new piece of real estate had emerged. Pretty but precarious.

That's what's so fascinating to Iain Stewart and his BBC clan.

"Don't people know about the quake that hit here in '89?" Stewart
wanted to know.

"I don't know. It seems many younger Marina residents don't seem to know about it or just don't think about it. There's a great denial in this town."

Stewart, a little amazed, pressed on. "What about precautions? Are San Franciscans prepared for the inevitable?"

Mostly, no. It's no secret that a major quake--one that exceeds 6.5 on the Richter Scale and is centered anywhere around here--will leave The City helpless for time, without outside resources. That could be for days. We saw what happened with FEMA in the Katrina. But the people who suffered from damage from Loma Prieta have already learned how impotent and useless FEMA can be. FEMA became a four-letter word.

The bridges to San Francisco will likely be down. We'll have to fend for ourselves. What I did see in the Marina during the days that followed the Loma Prieta quake was a fervent, kind cooperation between neighbors -- with many gestures of cooperation and generosity. It seemed to bring the best out of San Franciscans--for a while. Let's hope we'll at least have that going for us when the next Big One hits. We might lose our City again, but God help us if we lose our humanity.