When Calamity Comes at a Crawl

Soft sheets of gray rain swept across the steep hills of Astoria, Oregon, on the last Saturday of January 2024, the mizzle a comforting patter on the roof. It was one of the few days Adrienne Fabrique was able to sleep in, a respite from the constant demands of running a small property management company. But her dogs started barking, and soon, there was a loud knock. She opened the door to a police officer. He told Fabrique a slow-moving landslide had begun in the neighborhood overnight, and within a few hours, she had to evacuate.

The word “landslide” typically conjures images of mud and rock rushing down a slope, burying or destroying anything in its path within moments. Survivors talk about hearing the thunder of the earth rushing toward them as the only warning of an impending calamity. These rapid disasters are typically caused by the top layers of soil losing their hold. But slow-moving landslides are often generated by a deeper split, resulting in larger cleavages that can move at much subtler rates, from a millimeter to a few meters a year.

Some houses have moved so much they’ve