Ahhhh, indeed, the earthquake hit with a vengeance! Right across the road from Lake Union, stood the City Light Plant. On it's roof, it had six huge smokestacks. Those smokestacks were doing the HULA, let me tell you. I was fixated by their motion. As I said earlier, Lake Union BOILED! In the eyes of a 5-year-old, that's just what it looked like. Of course, it wasn't boiling. It was air escaping from the bottom of the lake. A LOT of air, so all the bubbles made it look like boiling water to me.

My Grandmother (Mama's Mama) lived in a one-room houseboat, which was tied up right across the pier from ours. Remember I told you that she spoke no English. The roiling water and ground movement caused her little house to break free of its mooring and go floating away. There she was, with a little copper pan, trying to bail water out of her house. I mean, Lake Union was a churning, roiling, boiling mass of waves. Grandma was lucky that her little house didn't flounder and swamp.

Mama had grabbed me and went flying out the door. Poppy pulled her back in and told her to stand in the doorway, which was the safest place to be. Mama had never been in an earthquake before, so you can imagine how panicked she was feeling. And, there was her Mother floating away at a pretty good clip. Mama was thunderstruck!

Don't know how long the quake actually lasted, but it seemed like forever. The Coast Guard had to go retrieve Grandma. That was quite a job. She wouldn't let them board her houseboat. She waved the little copper pan in a threatening manner and hollered at them in Italian. She didn't know them, so she wasn't about to let them get on her houseboat. :) One of the fellas spoke a tiny bit of Italian and was able to convince her that they were only trying to help her. She reluctantly allowed him to board her houseboat and he was able to tie a line to the Coast Guard cutter. They towed her back to our place. All the while, she stood on guard with her little copper pan.

I was quite fascinated by the quake and thought it was great fun! Being on the houseboat was like riding a bucking bronco. Much damage was done, though. All around the shore of Lake Union, buildings, cars, boats, houseboats, and streets were a jumble. There were many fires and injured people. The Coast Guard brought several of these poor folks to our house. Most of them were just terribly shook up and/or had minor injuries. Mama started cooking. Mama was a unique and wonderful person. I will tell you something of her when I do the next update. Just to leave you with a sense of just how unique she was, she was known as "America's Only Bargewoman."

A three-masted schooner, later converted to an oil tanker, was named the "Diamondhead." In her heyday, she was a beautiful ship with graceful sails and a proud crew. During World War I, she obediently carried her flag high and sailed through the worst of weather. She had even been refitted with cannon. She did her captain proud. Then came World War II. The dignified old lady was converted to an oil tanker so that the naval fighting force could be refueled at sea. Eventually, she came to be tied up at our pier on Lake Union.

The war was still raging and more and more of our men were called to fight for America. They gladly went, leaving a great shortage of the masculine gender to keep America going. Naturally, as in World War I, the women took over. Anybody remember "Rosie, the Riveter?" She was a shining example of what women could do.....and DID!

Mama was no exception. She was a registered nurse, at the time, but here on the homefront.....in Seattle, WA. She cared for the children in Pediatrics. She was an excellent nurse and took her work very seriously. While some nurses gave necessary care to the children, they were cold and stony of facade. Mama gave them comfort and love, as well tending to their health needs.

But, I digress. When the Diamondhead was retired and berthed on Lake Union, she needed a caregiver, too. The Navy offered Mama the rank of Captain, along with living free on the houseboat.....all expenses paid except for food. There was even a write-up about her unique position in Life magazine. Her son, my brother Stan, wore out three trycycles on the decks of the Diamondhead. Mama tended the Diamondhead throughout the entire war.

Poppy worked for Socony-Vacuum, which later became General Petroleum, which later became Mobil. I remember watching the big, flashing, red neon sign of the "Flying Horse Pegasus," (which has been the Mobil logo since its inception) from my bedroom window in the houseboat. That sign reflected on Lake Union's surface at night. It fascinated me. Poppy was lucky to have a job during those years. See, you have to know that Poppy had been in the Navy during World War I and had been around the world three times. He was a Veteran already, so wasn't called for the Second world war.

Money was tight and, while Poppy had a full-time, regular job, the pay wasn't the greatest. He had purchased a Model-A Ford, right off the showroom floor, and ended up having it voluntarily repossesed. That was the first and last time he bought anything on credit. Yes, there was credit back them. Just having the money to pay rent was cause for celebration. When Mama was offered her Captaincy, it was like manna from Heaven.

Of course, all of this occurred before I was born. By the time I came on the scene, the war was winding down. Then came the flood of soldiers and sailors needing jobs. The job market was swamped. So many families living in shanties. Even tent cities and cardboard boxes. WHOLE FAMILIES! We were MOST fortunate. I most of all.

I was a chubby baby. It must have made folks laugh to see me toddling around. My hair was white blond (even though it was copper-red when I was born) and was a mass of tight curls. As I got older, my hair darkened to a rich brown, with auburn red highlights aplenty, and it hung to the backs of my knees. I remember Mama curling my hair with rags. It hurt like crazy. Oh, the temper tantrums I threw when Mama got the "rag box" out. She would use long strips of cloth and wind it (and my hair) round and round and round, until it looked like a long, tight sausage. By the time Mama finished with me, I looked like Medusa! You know, the gal with snakes growing out of her head? I HATED THAT!!! After all, at four years old, a gal is getting some vanity.

After the 1949 quake, we moved from my beloved Lake Union. My folks bought a two-bedroom house on dry land. We moved from the middle of downtown Seattle to a place called, Kenmore, which was out north in the middle of nowhere! Talk about isolation!! We lived at least 30 miles from the nearest Parochial school. Because of that, I didn't get to go to Kindergarten. When I started school, in the First Grade, I had to be up at 4 a.m. in order go be to school on time. That was St. Anne's on Queen Anne Hill in Seattle. I wouldn't get home until nearly 5 p.m. It was grueling for a little six-year-old.

It was at that tender age that I found out that something was VERY wrong with the Catholic Faith. We children were being lied to by the nuns and priests. I constantly raised my hand and questioned the teachings in our catechism. It was not a pretty picture.