My Father Bob Blackburn (Documentary Photo #d3458)
I must have been at work. I don't remember, really, that day. Everything was sketchy at the bank, and everyday was busy. I was probably buried in work.
|As far as I can determine, nothing of any significance
happened on the site during the earthquake. The nearest residence was over a mile and half
down the hill, and the resident, a portly guy named Phil who still lives there, reported a
mild shaking but nothing special. If anything did happen to the ground, the
excavation obliterated the evidence. The only real disturbance, apart
from frantic news broadcasts, occurred near the epicenter.
I can remember that day like it is encased in a snowglobe. We were living in Idaho Falls at 626 Dickson. Mom was getting ready to take me to school at Ethel Boys Elementary, and I was lying on the couch in the living room when the house started to bounce. Not shake. Bounce. Mom stumbled in and I said, "its an earthquake, grab something."
She raced across the floor and grabbed a lamp.
Evidence at the site: none.
State Geologist Ernest Housel (Documentary Photo #ss332)
That quake shouldn't have happened. Literally. None of the usual warnings, pre-tremors and the like, occurred. Surface signs were all nominal. It should have been a nice day.