Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Dear Readers: I have revised my earlier story Siskiyou Islands.
For viewing the “old” version you may find it at:
http://www.frugalsquirrels.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=forum;f=33
Revised Chapters 1 - , 3 copyright 2006, Siskiyoumom, Somes Bar California
Siskiyou Island Part One, Chapter One: The Wave and It's Aftermath
I am attempting to reconstruct the story Siskiyou Islands. Due to various chapters being on three different computers (no I did not save to a disc, silly me) I will be editing and revising chapters as I go. The story line will be pretty much the same. Although some character names may undergo a change.
Siskiyou Islands
Part One: The Wave and It’s Aftermath
Chapter One:
Thinking back, when did I become the woman I am today? When did I find the strength to think of how I could survive the unthinkable? Which adults blessed me with the art of questioning what is put before me in school, at church, on TV? Why have I come to this place and time and why am I here and others are lost?
The wave crashing over the coastal mountain range of California arrived on May 15th. I was in the middle of teaching PE; rather I was letting my Junior High students play basketball in the gym. It was their most favorite activity of the school day. The weather had turned warm, and after four months of unseasonable snow fall the kids decided that yes indeed they would behave enough to earn PAT time (preferred activity time) to have an extra long PE period.
Since February, we in the great state of California had been experiencing the worst weather in 500 years. Everyone expected that once the snow and ice finally melted we’d be flooded. But, we did not expect to be flooded by the mega tsunami coming up the Klamath River corridor from the Pacific Ocean. Seems that there was a massive subduction zone quake of magnitude 10.4 on the intersection of the North American, Juan de Fuca, Pacific and Gorda plates and the Mednocino fracture zone converging 8 nautical miles from the small coastal town of Petrolia.
For a great graphic on the Cascadian Subduction Zone use the addresses below in your browser.
Source Note: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/art...0&type=science. If you have questions email David Perlman at dperlman@sfchronicle.com.
http://www.berkeley.edu/news/media/r..._marshes.shtml
woodshole.er.usgs.gov/operations/obs/rmobs_pub/html/mendocino.html
http://www.seismo.unr.edu/ftp/pub/lo...tectonics.html
This quake put the Indonesian quake to shame as far as loss of property. Due to the smaller north coast population the direct loss of life was less than 7,500 souls.
The ocean receded twelve miles west and then sent 350 foot tall wall of foaming water cascading over the coastal communities of Ferndale, Petrolia, Eureka, Loleta, Scotia, Manila, Arcata, Mckinleyville, and Trinidad in Humboldt county. Havoc reached 400 miles north and 400 miles south along the Pacific coastline.
Folks were a bit surprised that the dreaded San Andreas Fault was not the culprit, but the Little Salmon fault. The waves crested over the lowest mountains and coursed up the as far inland as 20 miles. Roaring up the Eel, Klamath, Trinity, Mad, Elk, and Smith rivers and their tributaries. The back wash coming down the summits at Lord Ellis and Barry Summits was full of debris,timber, soil, gravel, boulders, homes, animals and vehicles with bodies bobbing along.
http://ceres.ca.gov/planning/countie...t/spatial.html
The now decommissioned nuclear power plant at Little River consisted of just the spent fuel pool. The dry cask storage units which were waiting to be filled with decaying rods simply vanished with the outgoing waves. The pool had been rumored to be leaking for over 50 years. And now the radiation was spread miles inland and out to sea as the super heated fuel erupted when the cooling waters leaked out with the second wave rushing to the sea. Then the third massive wave washed the broken rods back inland.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humbold...rating_Station
http://quake.wr.usgs.gov/recent/index.html
The first major building to be wiped out was the county courthouse. And the pink palace (the county jail). In the basement the county Emergency Operations Center and Homeland Security Office was flooded before even one distress call could be received or go out.
All of us were aware that a quake had occurred. The small town I was teaching in is only 39 miles from the coast as the crow flies (75 miles by highway and county roads). Only a few lights fell in the gym as we were all knocked on behinds. The school secretary implemented our Emergency Plan and checked in on us. She said, “Just stay in the gym, school is out soon and the kids deserve their PE time. I’ll call the DO (district office) and Forest Service to get a report on what happened. Don’t sweat it, we still have school.” With a confident smile she walked out of the building. Seconds later, at 2:50 PM the roar of the water cold be heard.
I gathered the students together and told them to follow me to the north east corner of the gym. I said that it sounded like water was coming towards us and a flash flood might be happening. One of the kids said his Dad had a river raft on a trailer just across the field and that he knew it could hold 12 people. The school was located in the center of town, snuggled into a beautiful narrow river valley surrounded by 2nd growth Douglas fir and Pinion Pines. Next to the field was the Indian Housing Subdivision.
Within seconds the roaring was louder and a constant flow of water was entering the gym, quickly rising to about two feet deep. My class had 22 students. I quickly numbered the shortest 11 off and sent them scurrying out the back door of the gym and across the field towards the lot where the raft was. The boy with raft was Johnny. My class was a mix of 6th, 7th and 8th grade students. Being a tiny rural school meant multiple grade classes. The remaining 10 students were my taller, stockier stronger students. Having been raised on the reservation they were tough and in many ways much more mountain wise than I could ever hope to be.
The seconds it took for the raft group to cross the field, climbe the fence and disappear on the other side was a joy to watch. I tried to think quickly on if it were better to stay inside or fight the quickly rising waters. By now the water as up to our necks and the current was trying to pull us out of the gym. We saw much debris in the water and it was dark and very foamy. In seconds the kids were freaking out and crying and screaming.
I had to shout above the roar “Shut up and listen. If you want to die, go out the door. You want to live, then listen to me. Follow my orders and do not give me any crap!” For once this year they actually shut up and listened to me. What a shock!
The two rectangular tables used for holding the score board equipment were floating at this point. I directed the kids to grab on to them. More debris started popping up in the water, washed in by the current of the water. At one table the biggest three boys were on one side starting to capsize it. I swam over and told them to space themselves evenly out, one to a side. The kids had gotten very quiet, except for a few who were crying silent tears.
Josh, one of my big 6th graders said, “Gosh, I have never heard you swear before Mrs. Carlson.” As the water rose in the gym it got pretty dark. My mind was spinning, the water was icy cold, and the kids started to complain about the cold. I asked them “Who saw Titanic?” Josh answered, “Man, are you trying to freak us out more?” I laughed and said “No, but did you know one way to get warm for a few seconds is to pee in the water?” The girls went “Oh, gross!!” Tommy, my class clown, said “Hey it works!!”
As we rose higher and higher towards the gym ceiling I told the kids, “The building is strong, if it hasn’t collapsed yet, it probably won’t, we will float till the water starts to go down we’ll float down and be ok.”
The roar of the water became louder and louder and I thought my idea was pretty lame. I was cold, in shock, and as scared as the kids.
As the water pushed us closer to the ceiling I realized we were 16 feet in the air, which meant we were actually 23 feet above river level. I thought that my BOB in my classroom and in my rig were probably washed either up or down river by now.
As the minutes passed more and more debris kept popping up. Sadly, it included bodies of town folk. The boys and girls started freaking out, especially if they knew the person swirling by. I told them to hang on tight to the tables and to close their eyes or turn their heads.
The water got colder and colder. The gym got darker and darker. I had thought the water would go down quickly. It did not. I had no idea that upriver the Iron Gate Dam had collapsed when fault lines near Yreka broke loose. Sending even more water to our small town.
http://www.friendsoftheriver.org/Pub...n/klamath.html
The kids got quiet for awhile. Then they started asking, “Why did this happen?” I could only say that the s**t had hit the fan and that the quake we felt must of caused a tidal wave that reached us. Every once in a while a kid or I would cry out when we were bumped in the dark by a human corpse or the body of a dead animal. The darkness was totally freaking me out.
The water did not go down! I thought we were just going to wear out like the passengers of the Titanic and drop off the tables and drown. Then I thought, hey girl, pray, think, don’t give up. One of my students said, “Hey Mrs. C. please think of something for us to do. I need to get home soon and check in on my Gram and baby brother. I gotta get outta here!”
I looked at my watched and realized it was not working. I asked, “Anyone know what time it is?” Josh said, “Tool time” with a smirk. Then he said, “It is 11:11 PM. Dang, let’s get outta here.”
I told the students. “We are going to push the tables to the walls where the doors are. We will dive down and out in pairs. Remember where the big grandma trees are in the school yard? First swim there and wait for all of us to regroup. After we regroup, we’ll decide where to swim to next, OK.”
My biggest pain in the butt students, two 8th grade girls started to back talk me and moan about the plan. I told them, “Fine, I am no longer your teacher. You want to stay in here with dead bodies all night and drown, then that is your choice. I am getting out of here now.” I started pushing the table I was hanging onto with the two smallest of my students, William a 6th grader and Jessie a 7th grader. William said in a soft voice, “Mrs. C my Mom trusts you and so do I please help me get home.” I patted his shoulder and off we went. As we reached the wall I told the two to take a depth breath and swim down and out and try to grab onto the light fixture at the roof line of the gym and to wait for me. I’d join them when I geo the rest of the kids out.
After watching all the students dive down and out I followed them. I took a deep breath, dove down, clawed my way out of the door and popped up outside.
It was night and the stars were bright. The entire town was covered in water. It was dark and the sliver of moon reflected off the snow covered firs in the school yard. The kids had already swum over to the tall fir trees and I joined them. The current was so strong I almost missed grabbing onto a branch. I held on with all my strength. I was so cold.
]
The kids were shivering in the dark. I thought of hypothermia and said out loud, “It is a fine fix you got us into this time Ollie”. William replied, “Mrs. C I gotta an idea….”
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 2
Oh, God. I have lost Rosa!
She was just here, next to me clinging to this wretched fir tree.
She quietly slipped away as I reached out to grab what I thought was Mariah.
God, it is so cold. I am shivering. I have hypothermia. I am dying.
I can’t die. I have at least three girls left. We will make it. What is that? A light? I hear an engine.
It is Johnny my totally jerk of a student with A.D.H.D.! I reach for my river rafting whistle. It is still hanging around my neck with my redundant car, trailer, and school room keys. I blow hard and long.
I blow S.O.S. I hear Johnny say, “S**T, I think that is Mrs. Hansen’s whistle. Dang, I thought she’d be long drowned like a rat!"
I yell, “Richard, get you’re a** over here now!."
Amazingly he pulls over with a river boat and tosses a savior line to us.
Thomas, another of my students shines a bright light and I see that Mariah is the only one who made it to the fir tree. The boys haul us in to the river boat. In its former life it was used to fish the salmon and steelhead.
Tonight it hauls in a middle aged junior high teacher and Johnny’s cousin Mariah. The other girls are lost as far as we can tell. I thought we were were hanging onto the fir tree in the yard of the school.
I soon realize we are actually a mile upriver near the tribal health clinic.
I asked Johnny, “How did you know we were here?”. He said, "We were just tooling around trying to find some house above water." He asked if we knew if his sister Susan was safe. I said that last I saw of her she was still in the gym with us. He grew quiet and said that once he found a place to dump us, he was heading back to town to try and find her.
Amazing, the student who spends only half his day at school due to his psychotic behavior is the one who saves my life? He says, “Mrs. Hansen, you better wrap us in this shiny blanket, it might make you warmer."
He tosses me an emergency blanket, I tear it apart, wrap up in it, and think, man oh man, he has the Forest Service boat!
I ask him, “Richard, how’d yah get the boat?”
He says, “Well, yah know how Angelaa is doing the recycling thing for the tribe? Well, I had to do community service and she’d let me help her out. I was with her when the big quake hit. We were in the Forest Service yard hooking up the trailer. She said that she thought it was the BIG one. And to go over to the rig with the river boat. She said no matter what happened next I should unhook the boat from the trailer, check the gas tank for fuel, see if I could find the ignition key under the left front tire of the truck hauling the boat.
I asked her, why would the key be there, and she said that Pissfirs (a local name for Forest Service employees) always put the keys under the left front wheel if they are sharing a rig.
So I go and get the key, and then I hear her scream, “Ah, S**t!!”
I look up and see a wall of water coming up the creek from the river! I jump up into the boat, and as the water rises I piss my pants and hang on tight. I ended up 8 miles up river near Somes Bar. As I got to the bridge that crosses the Salmon River I finally started the engine and headed down river. I got to you guys about an half hour ago. What the f**k happened Mrs. Hansen? Where is my family?"
Richard began to sob, then as I reached out to him he lashed out,
”Keep away from me!”.
The four of us sat there silently as we floated with the current.
Then we started heading down river.
I YELLED to Richard to go toward the far shore of the Klamath. The reverse tide of the tsunami was happening. We ended up above where the clinic once was. We got to the east side of the river. We quickly tied off the boat and climbed out. We hiked up another 25 feet and as the sun rose we watched the debris making its way towards the hamlet of Orleans. The boat was secure, but by now it was 30 feet above the highway, and if the river went to its normal level we’d have a heck of a time getting it back to the water.
We did not have to worry. Once the river reversed itself and started to flow back towards the Pacific the water stayed at the 380 foot level. Prior to the tsunami the Orleans was officially at 360 feet. This meant that all the areas down river were now under the river and receding sea water. The water still tasted salty to my lips. Oh God, what are we going to do?
Richard said that he was really pissed and why did this happen? I said my same lame excuse, “S**t happens”. He shyly looked up at me and laughed and said, “Mrs. Hansen you gotta come up with a better line than that!”. We all laugh and then Mariah asked me what are we going to do Mrs. Hansen”
I say, “ We are going to live.”
Siskiyou Islands Part One, Chapter 3
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 3
As the sun rose we looked out at the devastation over our little mountain valley. The highway was still underwater as far as we could see. Johnny said, “Man, I am hungry, tired and want to go home!” As I look towards the Indian housing unit I saw that where Johnny’s home was under water. I asked him, “Hey John is your grandma ok?” He said, “No Mrs. Hansen. I think she is gone. Mom to. Then I think I saw my sis washed down river.” Mariah started weeping. She is Johnny’s cousin and all those he lost were her close relations. She said, “ What about my Ma?” He shook his head no, and turned away from her to gaze out across the valley.
The sight we saw that day was stark, harsh and still very beautiful. The tsunami had scoured the edges of the valley and mountainsides of most vegetation, buildings, and road signs. The abutments of the bridge were left, but the roadway and arches were gone. All the trailers and mobile homes were gone. Gone long gone. The only buildings standing were the school gym and the shell of the brick walled forest service equipment building. The valley floor was strewn with twisted debris and smashed building materials. The orchards were torn out by the strength of the water. We saw bloated cows, dogs and cats.
I asked Johnny if he had any idea of any other survivors? He said he wanted to drag the boat down to the water and do a check on the other side of the river and valley. He thought that some of the folks who lived up the Gasquet Orleans Road (GO Rd) might be ok and might be able to help us out or we can help them. Mariah had stopped crying and said, “Yeah, Auntie Rose is up there at 1 mile. “ So we unlashed the boat and paddled across the river. Heading down stream towards the GO road. We paddle around the school gym and see that the school buses are gone along with the main building. We just skim over the tops of the ball field fencing, cross the Indian Housing Unit, the Indian Senior Center, the old lumberyard, the vineyard, and finally reach the spur of land rising up out of the mass of water and the ribbon of asphalt rising like a snake up towards the snow covered slopes of the Siskiyou Mountains.
We tied the boat off around an old stump then inventoried the contents of the boat. The air was chilly and both Mariah and I are both still soaking we and were violently shivering. Thomas gallantly takes off his red hooded sweatshirt and hands it without a word to Mariah. She shyly takes it and puts it on. Johnny is in his standard outfit of Chicago Bulls athletic baggy shorts and 5 sizes to large tank top with the regulatory white undershirt, spiffy black basket ball shoes, black Bulls ball cap on backwards and his tobacco pouch on a leather thong around his neck. His grandma who is a master basket weaver for the tribe made his tobacco pouch for his turning of 13-birthday celebration. In it is all his hopes, dreams, Injun Root (a local root). The design woven in that tiny basket was intricate and holds special meaning for Richard.
Johnny pulls out a Forest Service sweatshirt out of a non-descript blue pack and tosses it to me. “Here Hansen,” he says. We lay all the contents of the boat onto the roadway. We find:
EMT Medical Bag
River Rescue Gear
Small anchor
Assorted ropes
Halogen rescue light
Johnny had his blue pack and I asked him what he had in it.
He just shrugged his shoulders and said it was his stuff and we could not have it,
I said I did not want his stuff.
I told him all I wanted him to do was to help carry the EMT Gear and ropes.
He said, “Oh, Ok”. He opened the pack and inside I saw he had one can of soda, his Walkman CD player, and a small 22-caliber handgun.
I asked him, “Well, you got bullets for the gun?” He said, “What gun?” “Knock it off Rich. We may need to use it for protection from cougars or bad guys. If you have bullets, then load it. I know you know how to use it. And for gosh sakes don’t put it in your shorts, you may end up shooting off your you know what, O.K.? We talked about the strategy of walking up the road and how to be safe if there were any crazy folks out and about. We were still a quarter mile from Auntie Roses’ house. Johnny said he’d take lead, then Mariah, and then Thomas and I took the rear spot.
The sun was shining and reflecting brightly off the snow banks. As we walked up the steep road I assessed myself. I was amazed to see that I had both my tennis shoes on, my still wet dress slacks, my Duo Form long johns were wicking away the cold, I had on a newer pair of wool blend socks, undershirt, long sleeved dress blouse and light wool vest. My hair was drying out and keeping my head a bit warmer. Mariah was far worse off than I. She was wearing short cotton socks, synthetic athletic shorts, a large oversized tank top and a short top under it. She looked like she was warming up in the sweatshirt, but I knew at dusk both she and I would be in a world of hurt without shelter.
Thomas was quiet and alert. Constantly scanning the terrain. He told me his family’s compound on the east side of the valley was still under water. His Mom worked weekdays up river in the town of Happy Camp. He said he was sure she was ok and that she’d be down to get him sooner or later. He was worried about his other family in the valley though. All three of these students were highly capable mountain kids.
They know how to put in firewood, to garden, hunt and fish. I had no doubts that they would make it if we could find shelter and clean water. My mind was reeling of all the images of the last day. I kept thinking, one foot in front of the other, keep an eye out. Breathe.
As we round the bend ahead of us we heard a cry of “Praise God, Mariah and Rich, they are alive!!” A crowd of crying smiling adults and children came running down towards us, swooping up the two young teens and gathering them into their loving embrace. Thomas and I stood back, teary eyed and silent. Auntie Rose is a dignified Karuk medicine woman who stands just shy of 5 foot 2. She walks towards us, opens her arms and says, “ Praise God, please come in by the fire and eat.” She guides us like a mother hen into her humble singlewide trailer. The warmth of the wood fire heats me quickly and I feel like I want to climb into the stove. Rose brings me a mug of coffee and offers sugar and powdered creamer. I accept and slowly sip the dark brew. I look around and recognize the faces of all those gathered around me. They are the children of my school, their parents and guardians. I begin to silently weep as I see the sorrow and grief in their eyes. We all know those who have been swept away by the salty muddy waters.
Rose leans towards me and whispers. “Honey, I can’t offer you a hot shower just yet, but there is a basin of warm water in my room, some nice and clean and dry underwear and a set of clothes for you to put on. And girl, brush your hair, you look like you have been ridden hard and put away wet. With a little smile she guides me to the room. It is tiny. There are small school pictures of her children, nieces and nephews, and grandchildren adoring her mirror above a small oak dresser.
She has laid out a baggy pair of jeans, long johns, cotton socks, thermal shirt, flannel shirt, and a beautiful crocheted cap. I took off my still damp clothes, washed from the basin, dried off and dressed. The room was a bit chilly, but very warn compared to the water I had almost died in. My skin was still shriveled up from the cold water. After I dressed I gathered up my hair and picked up the scissors resting on the dresser top. I quickly cut off my shoulder length hair to above my collar and trimmed my bangs. I wadded up the hair into the towel. Picked up my clothing and wet shoes and stepped into the hall. Rose met me at the door way to the small living area. I asked her if I could burn my hair in her wood stove. She said yes with a slight nod of her head. She guided to me the stove opened the door and I opened the towel. As I threw my locks into the fire tears began to fall down my face. I was remembering the last time I cut my hair in grief. It was when my seven-year-old son died. As the hair shriveled in the flames and the acrid smell wafted out Rose began to sing a song of praise to God. She sang of His loving kindness, his ever-present help, his healing of the nations, his leading and his drying the tears of the grief stricken.
I looked around and realized Rose and I were alone in the room. She took my hands into hers and she said that I must be strong, wise, and not be foolish. She asked me if I felt ill. She placed her hand on my forehead and asked me to open my mouth. She said my tongue looked healthy, but my color was weak and I was still too cool to the touch. She guided me to her rocker, sat me down and covered me with a small down throw. She brought me a rich beef broth in a cup. I drank it, sat the cup down, and leaned back into the rocker, closed my eyes and fell asleep.
The shining of the sun into my eyes woke me. I suddenly realized where I was. I looked around and saw Johnny asleep on the couch. Mariah in a sleeping bag on the floor, and I through the sliding glass door I saw Thomas sitting on the steps of the porch.
I got up and went to the door, went out and sat next to him. He said the phone was out, that the water had not gone down, and that there really wasn’t room for him or me at Roses’. He said she said we could stay, but he could count heads, and her kitchen cupboard was not exactly full of food.
He said that if I wanted to join him he planned to stay one night and would continue to hike up the GO Rd. then cross over the mountain via Bark Shanty Lane, follow Ishi Pishi Road along the Klamath River and then take the old mule pack trail when the water was too high. He wanted to head north to wear his Mom should be.
I told him I would go as far my place past Somes Bar. But first when will stop at my place on Thunder Mountain to get more gear. He said, “Cool.” Then he leaned back against the deck post, closed his eyes and went to sleep. I leaned back and started inventorying in my mind what I could share with Keith for his long walk to his Mom. And I though of what I could carry from my trailer to the cabin. Then I too leaned back dozed off in the sun.
That evening Rose, Johnny, Thomas, and I discussed our plans. Rose says that yes, it would be better if we move on.
She is expecting more folks to find their way to her doorstep. Johnny tells us of a short cut to Bark Shanty and gives us two pairs of snowshoes, his blue pack, another worn out black pack, and he gives me his hat.
He tells me that since I am so pale I will be sunburned in no time. I accept the hat and say thanks. Rose adds to the packs some salmon jerky, two small water bottles, zip lock bags with toilet paper, two candles, matches, and a worn out copy of the forest service map. Johnny marks out the short cut for us. We see that we will be within two miles of my house.
Rose has made Thomas and I a spot to sleep near the stove. All around us the children and adults are settling down to sleep. I count 23 people squeezed in around us. There is soft whispering, a couple of little ones being fussy. After awhile the room quiets, Rose blows out the oil lamps, her feet softly pattering down the hall. Her doors closes and her tender prayers for all of us under her roof can be heard.
The next morning I shake Thomas gently on the shoulder. He wakes quickly, gets up, grabs his pack and we carefully tip toe out. The sun is not yet up; we see our breath in the cool air. We begin our hike to Thunder Mountain. Thomas pulls out two Salmon River pieces of jade. They are about the size of a quarter and are very smooth. He hands me one and says that Rose told him we should suck on them for breakfast. He laughs. He said, “ At first I thought they were rock candy. So I tried mine out last night. Guess what? It is most definitely not rock candy!” He cracks a smile, takes point and we are off and on our way into the clear cold day.
For viewing the “old” version you may find it at:
http://www.frugalsquirrels.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=forum;f=33
Revised Chapters 1 - , 3 copyright 2006, Siskiyoumom, Somes Bar California
Siskiyou Island Part One, Chapter One: The Wave and It's Aftermath
I am attempting to reconstruct the story Siskiyou Islands. Due to various chapters being on three different computers (no I did not save to a disc, silly me) I will be editing and revising chapters as I go. The story line will be pretty much the same. Although some character names may undergo a change.
Siskiyou Islands
Part One: The Wave and It’s Aftermath
Chapter One:
Thinking back, when did I become the woman I am today? When did I find the strength to think of how I could survive the unthinkable? Which adults blessed me with the art of questioning what is put before me in school, at church, on TV? Why have I come to this place and time and why am I here and others are lost?
The wave crashing over the coastal mountain range of California arrived on May 15th. I was in the middle of teaching PE; rather I was letting my Junior High students play basketball in the gym. It was their most favorite activity of the school day. The weather had turned warm, and after four months of unseasonable snow fall the kids decided that yes indeed they would behave enough to earn PAT time (preferred activity time) to have an extra long PE period.
Since February, we in the great state of California had been experiencing the worst weather in 500 years. Everyone expected that once the snow and ice finally melted we’d be flooded. But, we did not expect to be flooded by the mega tsunami coming up the Klamath River corridor from the Pacific Ocean. Seems that there was a massive subduction zone quake of magnitude 10.4 on the intersection of the North American, Juan de Fuca, Pacific and Gorda plates and the Mednocino fracture zone converging 8 nautical miles from the small coastal town of Petrolia.
For a great graphic on the Cascadian Subduction Zone use the addresses below in your browser.
Source Note: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/art...0&type=science. If you have questions email David Perlman at dperlman@sfchronicle.com.
http://www.berkeley.edu/news/media/r..._marshes.shtml
woodshole.er.usgs.gov/operations/obs/rmobs_pub/html/mendocino.html
http://www.seismo.unr.edu/ftp/pub/lo...tectonics.html
This quake put the Indonesian quake to shame as far as loss of property. Due to the smaller north coast population the direct loss of life was less than 7,500 souls.
The ocean receded twelve miles west and then sent 350 foot tall wall of foaming water cascading over the coastal communities of Ferndale, Petrolia, Eureka, Loleta, Scotia, Manila, Arcata, Mckinleyville, and Trinidad in Humboldt county. Havoc reached 400 miles north and 400 miles south along the Pacific coastline.
Folks were a bit surprised that the dreaded San Andreas Fault was not the culprit, but the Little Salmon fault. The waves crested over the lowest mountains and coursed up the as far inland as 20 miles. Roaring up the Eel, Klamath, Trinity, Mad, Elk, and Smith rivers and their tributaries. The back wash coming down the summits at Lord Ellis and Barry Summits was full of debris,timber, soil, gravel, boulders, homes, animals and vehicles with bodies bobbing along.
http://ceres.ca.gov/planning/countie...t/spatial.html
The now decommissioned nuclear power plant at Little River consisted of just the spent fuel pool. The dry cask storage units which were waiting to be filled with decaying rods simply vanished with the outgoing waves. The pool had been rumored to be leaking for over 50 years. And now the radiation was spread miles inland and out to sea as the super heated fuel erupted when the cooling waters leaked out with the second wave rushing to the sea. Then the third massive wave washed the broken rods back inland.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humbold...rating_Station
http://quake.wr.usgs.gov/recent/index.html
The first major building to be wiped out was the county courthouse. And the pink palace (the county jail). In the basement the county Emergency Operations Center and Homeland Security Office was flooded before even one distress call could be received or go out.
All of us were aware that a quake had occurred. The small town I was teaching in is only 39 miles from the coast as the crow flies (75 miles by highway and county roads). Only a few lights fell in the gym as we were all knocked on behinds. The school secretary implemented our Emergency Plan and checked in on us. She said, “Just stay in the gym, school is out soon and the kids deserve their PE time. I’ll call the DO (district office) and Forest Service to get a report on what happened. Don’t sweat it, we still have school.” With a confident smile she walked out of the building. Seconds later, at 2:50 PM the roar of the water cold be heard.
I gathered the students together and told them to follow me to the north east corner of the gym. I said that it sounded like water was coming towards us and a flash flood might be happening. One of the kids said his Dad had a river raft on a trailer just across the field and that he knew it could hold 12 people. The school was located in the center of town, snuggled into a beautiful narrow river valley surrounded by 2nd growth Douglas fir and Pinion Pines. Next to the field was the Indian Housing Subdivision.
Within seconds the roaring was louder and a constant flow of water was entering the gym, quickly rising to about two feet deep. My class had 22 students. I quickly numbered the shortest 11 off and sent them scurrying out the back door of the gym and across the field towards the lot where the raft was. The boy with raft was Johnny. My class was a mix of 6th, 7th and 8th grade students. Being a tiny rural school meant multiple grade classes. The remaining 10 students were my taller, stockier stronger students. Having been raised on the reservation they were tough and in many ways much more mountain wise than I could ever hope to be.
The seconds it took for the raft group to cross the field, climbe the fence and disappear on the other side was a joy to watch. I tried to think quickly on if it were better to stay inside or fight the quickly rising waters. By now the water as up to our necks and the current was trying to pull us out of the gym. We saw much debris in the water and it was dark and very foamy. In seconds the kids were freaking out and crying and screaming.
I had to shout above the roar “Shut up and listen. If you want to die, go out the door. You want to live, then listen to me. Follow my orders and do not give me any crap!” For once this year they actually shut up and listened to me. What a shock!
The two rectangular tables used for holding the score board equipment were floating at this point. I directed the kids to grab on to them. More debris started popping up in the water, washed in by the current of the water. At one table the biggest three boys were on one side starting to capsize it. I swam over and told them to space themselves evenly out, one to a side. The kids had gotten very quiet, except for a few who were crying silent tears.
Josh, one of my big 6th graders said, “Gosh, I have never heard you swear before Mrs. Carlson.” As the water rose in the gym it got pretty dark. My mind was spinning, the water was icy cold, and the kids started to complain about the cold. I asked them “Who saw Titanic?” Josh answered, “Man, are you trying to freak us out more?” I laughed and said “No, but did you know one way to get warm for a few seconds is to pee in the water?” The girls went “Oh, gross!!” Tommy, my class clown, said “Hey it works!!”
As we rose higher and higher towards the gym ceiling I told the kids, “The building is strong, if it hasn’t collapsed yet, it probably won’t, we will float till the water starts to go down we’ll float down and be ok.”
The roar of the water became louder and louder and I thought my idea was pretty lame. I was cold, in shock, and as scared as the kids.
As the water pushed us closer to the ceiling I realized we were 16 feet in the air, which meant we were actually 23 feet above river level. I thought that my BOB in my classroom and in my rig were probably washed either up or down river by now.
As the minutes passed more and more debris kept popping up. Sadly, it included bodies of town folk. The boys and girls started freaking out, especially if they knew the person swirling by. I told them to hang on tight to the tables and to close their eyes or turn their heads.
The water got colder and colder. The gym got darker and darker. I had thought the water would go down quickly. It did not. I had no idea that upriver the Iron Gate Dam had collapsed when fault lines near Yreka broke loose. Sending even more water to our small town.
http://www.friendsoftheriver.org/Pub...n/klamath.html
The kids got quiet for awhile. Then they started asking, “Why did this happen?” I could only say that the s**t had hit the fan and that the quake we felt must of caused a tidal wave that reached us. Every once in a while a kid or I would cry out when we were bumped in the dark by a human corpse or the body of a dead animal. The darkness was totally freaking me out.
The water did not go down! I thought we were just going to wear out like the passengers of the Titanic and drop off the tables and drown. Then I thought, hey girl, pray, think, don’t give up. One of my students said, “Hey Mrs. C. please think of something for us to do. I need to get home soon and check in on my Gram and baby brother. I gotta get outta here!”
I looked at my watched and realized it was not working. I asked, “Anyone know what time it is?” Josh said, “Tool time” with a smirk. Then he said, “It is 11:11 PM. Dang, let’s get outta here.”
I told the students. “We are going to push the tables to the walls where the doors are. We will dive down and out in pairs. Remember where the big grandma trees are in the school yard? First swim there and wait for all of us to regroup. After we regroup, we’ll decide where to swim to next, OK.”
My biggest pain in the butt students, two 8th grade girls started to back talk me and moan about the plan. I told them, “Fine, I am no longer your teacher. You want to stay in here with dead bodies all night and drown, then that is your choice. I am getting out of here now.” I started pushing the table I was hanging onto with the two smallest of my students, William a 6th grader and Jessie a 7th grader. William said in a soft voice, “Mrs. C my Mom trusts you and so do I please help me get home.” I patted his shoulder and off we went. As we reached the wall I told the two to take a depth breath and swim down and out and try to grab onto the light fixture at the roof line of the gym and to wait for me. I’d join them when I geo the rest of the kids out.
After watching all the students dive down and out I followed them. I took a deep breath, dove down, clawed my way out of the door and popped up outside.
It was night and the stars were bright. The entire town was covered in water. It was dark and the sliver of moon reflected off the snow covered firs in the school yard. The kids had already swum over to the tall fir trees and I joined them. The current was so strong I almost missed grabbing onto a branch. I held on with all my strength. I was so cold.
]
The kids were shivering in the dark. I thought of hypothermia and said out loud, “It is a fine fix you got us into this time Ollie”. William replied, “Mrs. C I gotta an idea….”
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 2
Oh, God. I have lost Rosa!
She was just here, next to me clinging to this wretched fir tree.
She quietly slipped away as I reached out to grab what I thought was Mariah.
God, it is so cold. I am shivering. I have hypothermia. I am dying.
I can’t die. I have at least three girls left. We will make it. What is that? A light? I hear an engine.
It is Johnny my totally jerk of a student with A.D.H.D.! I reach for my river rafting whistle. It is still hanging around my neck with my redundant car, trailer, and school room keys. I blow hard and long.
I blow S.O.S. I hear Johnny say, “S**T, I think that is Mrs. Hansen’s whistle. Dang, I thought she’d be long drowned like a rat!"
I yell, “Richard, get you’re a** over here now!."
Amazingly he pulls over with a river boat and tosses a savior line to us.
Thomas, another of my students shines a bright light and I see that Mariah is the only one who made it to the fir tree. The boys haul us in to the river boat. In its former life it was used to fish the salmon and steelhead.
Tonight it hauls in a middle aged junior high teacher and Johnny’s cousin Mariah. The other girls are lost as far as we can tell. I thought we were were hanging onto the fir tree in the yard of the school.
I soon realize we are actually a mile upriver near the tribal health clinic.
I asked Johnny, “How did you know we were here?”. He said, "We were just tooling around trying to find some house above water." He asked if we knew if his sister Susan was safe. I said that last I saw of her she was still in the gym with us. He grew quiet and said that once he found a place to dump us, he was heading back to town to try and find her.
Amazing, the student who spends only half his day at school due to his psychotic behavior is the one who saves my life? He says, “Mrs. Hansen, you better wrap us in this shiny blanket, it might make you warmer."
He tosses me an emergency blanket, I tear it apart, wrap up in it, and think, man oh man, he has the Forest Service boat!
I ask him, “Richard, how’d yah get the boat?”
He says, “Well, yah know how Angelaa is doing the recycling thing for the tribe? Well, I had to do community service and she’d let me help her out. I was with her when the big quake hit. We were in the Forest Service yard hooking up the trailer. She said that she thought it was the BIG one. And to go over to the rig with the river boat. She said no matter what happened next I should unhook the boat from the trailer, check the gas tank for fuel, see if I could find the ignition key under the left front tire of the truck hauling the boat.
I asked her, why would the key be there, and she said that Pissfirs (a local name for Forest Service employees) always put the keys under the left front wheel if they are sharing a rig.
So I go and get the key, and then I hear her scream, “Ah, S**t!!”
I look up and see a wall of water coming up the creek from the river! I jump up into the boat, and as the water rises I piss my pants and hang on tight. I ended up 8 miles up river near Somes Bar. As I got to the bridge that crosses the Salmon River I finally started the engine and headed down river. I got to you guys about an half hour ago. What the f**k happened Mrs. Hansen? Where is my family?"
Richard began to sob, then as I reached out to him he lashed out,
”Keep away from me!”.
The four of us sat there silently as we floated with the current.
Then we started heading down river.
I YELLED to Richard to go toward the far shore of the Klamath. The reverse tide of the tsunami was happening. We ended up above where the clinic once was. We got to the east side of the river. We quickly tied off the boat and climbed out. We hiked up another 25 feet and as the sun rose we watched the debris making its way towards the hamlet of Orleans. The boat was secure, but by now it was 30 feet above the highway, and if the river went to its normal level we’d have a heck of a time getting it back to the water.
We did not have to worry. Once the river reversed itself and started to flow back towards the Pacific the water stayed at the 380 foot level. Prior to the tsunami the Orleans was officially at 360 feet. This meant that all the areas down river were now under the river and receding sea water. The water still tasted salty to my lips. Oh God, what are we going to do?
Richard said that he was really pissed and why did this happen? I said my same lame excuse, “S**t happens”. He shyly looked up at me and laughed and said, “Mrs. Hansen you gotta come up with a better line than that!”. We all laugh and then Mariah asked me what are we going to do Mrs. Hansen”
I say, “ We are going to live.”
Siskiyou Islands Part One, Chapter 3
Siskiyou Islands Chapter 3
As the sun rose we looked out at the devastation over our little mountain valley. The highway was still underwater as far as we could see. Johnny said, “Man, I am hungry, tired and want to go home!” As I look towards the Indian housing unit I saw that where Johnny’s home was under water. I asked him, “Hey John is your grandma ok?” He said, “No Mrs. Hansen. I think she is gone. Mom to. Then I think I saw my sis washed down river.” Mariah started weeping. She is Johnny’s cousin and all those he lost were her close relations. She said, “ What about my Ma?” He shook his head no, and turned away from her to gaze out across the valley.
The sight we saw that day was stark, harsh and still very beautiful. The tsunami had scoured the edges of the valley and mountainsides of most vegetation, buildings, and road signs. The abutments of the bridge were left, but the roadway and arches were gone. All the trailers and mobile homes were gone. Gone long gone. The only buildings standing were the school gym and the shell of the brick walled forest service equipment building. The valley floor was strewn with twisted debris and smashed building materials. The orchards were torn out by the strength of the water. We saw bloated cows, dogs and cats.
I asked Johnny if he had any idea of any other survivors? He said he wanted to drag the boat down to the water and do a check on the other side of the river and valley. He thought that some of the folks who lived up the Gasquet Orleans Road (GO Rd) might be ok and might be able to help us out or we can help them. Mariah had stopped crying and said, “Yeah, Auntie Rose is up there at 1 mile. “ So we unlashed the boat and paddled across the river. Heading down stream towards the GO road. We paddle around the school gym and see that the school buses are gone along with the main building. We just skim over the tops of the ball field fencing, cross the Indian Housing Unit, the Indian Senior Center, the old lumberyard, the vineyard, and finally reach the spur of land rising up out of the mass of water and the ribbon of asphalt rising like a snake up towards the snow covered slopes of the Siskiyou Mountains.
We tied the boat off around an old stump then inventoried the contents of the boat. The air was chilly and both Mariah and I are both still soaking we and were violently shivering. Thomas gallantly takes off his red hooded sweatshirt and hands it without a word to Mariah. She shyly takes it and puts it on. Johnny is in his standard outfit of Chicago Bulls athletic baggy shorts and 5 sizes to large tank top with the regulatory white undershirt, spiffy black basket ball shoes, black Bulls ball cap on backwards and his tobacco pouch on a leather thong around his neck. His grandma who is a master basket weaver for the tribe made his tobacco pouch for his turning of 13-birthday celebration. In it is all his hopes, dreams, Injun Root (a local root). The design woven in that tiny basket was intricate and holds special meaning for Richard.
Johnny pulls out a Forest Service sweatshirt out of a non-descript blue pack and tosses it to me. “Here Hansen,” he says. We lay all the contents of the boat onto the roadway. We find:
EMT Medical Bag
River Rescue Gear
Small anchor
Assorted ropes
Halogen rescue light
Johnny had his blue pack and I asked him what he had in it.
He just shrugged his shoulders and said it was his stuff and we could not have it,
I said I did not want his stuff.
I told him all I wanted him to do was to help carry the EMT Gear and ropes.
He said, “Oh, Ok”. He opened the pack and inside I saw he had one can of soda, his Walkman CD player, and a small 22-caliber handgun.
I asked him, “Well, you got bullets for the gun?” He said, “What gun?” “Knock it off Rich. We may need to use it for protection from cougars or bad guys. If you have bullets, then load it. I know you know how to use it. And for gosh sakes don’t put it in your shorts, you may end up shooting off your you know what, O.K.? We talked about the strategy of walking up the road and how to be safe if there were any crazy folks out and about. We were still a quarter mile from Auntie Roses’ house. Johnny said he’d take lead, then Mariah, and then Thomas and I took the rear spot.
The sun was shining and reflecting brightly off the snow banks. As we walked up the steep road I assessed myself. I was amazed to see that I had both my tennis shoes on, my still wet dress slacks, my Duo Form long johns were wicking away the cold, I had on a newer pair of wool blend socks, undershirt, long sleeved dress blouse and light wool vest. My hair was drying out and keeping my head a bit warmer. Mariah was far worse off than I. She was wearing short cotton socks, synthetic athletic shorts, a large oversized tank top and a short top under it. She looked like she was warming up in the sweatshirt, but I knew at dusk both she and I would be in a world of hurt without shelter.
Thomas was quiet and alert. Constantly scanning the terrain. He told me his family’s compound on the east side of the valley was still under water. His Mom worked weekdays up river in the town of Happy Camp. He said he was sure she was ok and that she’d be down to get him sooner or later. He was worried about his other family in the valley though. All three of these students were highly capable mountain kids.
They know how to put in firewood, to garden, hunt and fish. I had no doubts that they would make it if we could find shelter and clean water. My mind was reeling of all the images of the last day. I kept thinking, one foot in front of the other, keep an eye out. Breathe.
As we round the bend ahead of us we heard a cry of “Praise God, Mariah and Rich, they are alive!!” A crowd of crying smiling adults and children came running down towards us, swooping up the two young teens and gathering them into their loving embrace. Thomas and I stood back, teary eyed and silent. Auntie Rose is a dignified Karuk medicine woman who stands just shy of 5 foot 2. She walks towards us, opens her arms and says, “ Praise God, please come in by the fire and eat.” She guides us like a mother hen into her humble singlewide trailer. The warmth of the wood fire heats me quickly and I feel like I want to climb into the stove. Rose brings me a mug of coffee and offers sugar and powdered creamer. I accept and slowly sip the dark brew. I look around and recognize the faces of all those gathered around me. They are the children of my school, their parents and guardians. I begin to silently weep as I see the sorrow and grief in their eyes. We all know those who have been swept away by the salty muddy waters.
Rose leans towards me and whispers. “Honey, I can’t offer you a hot shower just yet, but there is a basin of warm water in my room, some nice and clean and dry underwear and a set of clothes for you to put on. And girl, brush your hair, you look like you have been ridden hard and put away wet. With a little smile she guides me to the room. It is tiny. There are small school pictures of her children, nieces and nephews, and grandchildren adoring her mirror above a small oak dresser.
She has laid out a baggy pair of jeans, long johns, cotton socks, thermal shirt, flannel shirt, and a beautiful crocheted cap. I took off my still damp clothes, washed from the basin, dried off and dressed. The room was a bit chilly, but very warn compared to the water I had almost died in. My skin was still shriveled up from the cold water. After I dressed I gathered up my hair and picked up the scissors resting on the dresser top. I quickly cut off my shoulder length hair to above my collar and trimmed my bangs. I wadded up the hair into the towel. Picked up my clothing and wet shoes and stepped into the hall. Rose met me at the door way to the small living area. I asked her if I could burn my hair in her wood stove. She said yes with a slight nod of her head. She guided to me the stove opened the door and I opened the towel. As I threw my locks into the fire tears began to fall down my face. I was remembering the last time I cut my hair in grief. It was when my seven-year-old son died. As the hair shriveled in the flames and the acrid smell wafted out Rose began to sing a song of praise to God. She sang of His loving kindness, his ever-present help, his healing of the nations, his leading and his drying the tears of the grief stricken.
I looked around and realized Rose and I were alone in the room. She took my hands into hers and she said that I must be strong, wise, and not be foolish. She asked me if I felt ill. She placed her hand on my forehead and asked me to open my mouth. She said my tongue looked healthy, but my color was weak and I was still too cool to the touch. She guided me to her rocker, sat me down and covered me with a small down throw. She brought me a rich beef broth in a cup. I drank it, sat the cup down, and leaned back into the rocker, closed my eyes and fell asleep.
The shining of the sun into my eyes woke me. I suddenly realized where I was. I looked around and saw Johnny asleep on the couch. Mariah in a sleeping bag on the floor, and I through the sliding glass door I saw Thomas sitting on the steps of the porch.
I got up and went to the door, went out and sat next to him. He said the phone was out, that the water had not gone down, and that there really wasn’t room for him or me at Roses’. He said she said we could stay, but he could count heads, and her kitchen cupboard was not exactly full of food.
He said that if I wanted to join him he planned to stay one night and would continue to hike up the GO Rd. then cross over the mountain via Bark Shanty Lane, follow Ishi Pishi Road along the Klamath River and then take the old mule pack trail when the water was too high. He wanted to head north to wear his Mom should be.
I told him I would go as far my place past Somes Bar. But first when will stop at my place on Thunder Mountain to get more gear. He said, “Cool.” Then he leaned back against the deck post, closed his eyes and went to sleep. I leaned back and started inventorying in my mind what I could share with Keith for his long walk to his Mom. And I though of what I could carry from my trailer to the cabin. Then I too leaned back dozed off in the sun.
That evening Rose, Johnny, Thomas, and I discussed our plans. Rose says that yes, it would be better if we move on.
She is expecting more folks to find their way to her doorstep. Johnny tells us of a short cut to Bark Shanty and gives us two pairs of snowshoes, his blue pack, another worn out black pack, and he gives me his hat.
He tells me that since I am so pale I will be sunburned in no time. I accept the hat and say thanks. Rose adds to the packs some salmon jerky, two small water bottles, zip lock bags with toilet paper, two candles, matches, and a worn out copy of the forest service map. Johnny marks out the short cut for us. We see that we will be within two miles of my house.
Rose has made Thomas and I a spot to sleep near the stove. All around us the children and adults are settling down to sleep. I count 23 people squeezed in around us. There is soft whispering, a couple of little ones being fussy. After awhile the room quiets, Rose blows out the oil lamps, her feet softly pattering down the hall. Her doors closes and her tender prayers for all of us under her roof can be heard.
The next morning I shake Thomas gently on the shoulder. He wakes quickly, gets up, grabs his pack and we carefully tip toe out. The sun is not yet up; we see our breath in the cool air. We begin our hike to Thunder Mountain. Thomas pulls out two Salmon River pieces of jade. They are about the size of a quarter and are very smooth. He hands me one and says that Rose told him we should suck on them for breakfast. He laughs. He said, “ At first I thought they were rock candy. So I tried mine out last night. Guess what? It is most definitely not rock candy!” He cracks a smile, takes point and we are off and on our way into the clear cold day.