San Francisco Island

By Randi Hart

Living in San Francisco has been wonderful for the Welles and Dyer families, next-door neighbors and best friends who are so close they are really like one big family. Jim Welles is a successful lawyer, and Bob Dyer is a geologist – a profession which is about to become useful in a way nobody ever wanted it to be.
 
Their sons are two teenage boys who are scheduled to play in a state championship baseball game Saturday, on the Oakland side of the Bay Bridge. Mother Nature has other plans, however. The families are not the only things that get separated when an earth-shaking event shocks the nation.
 
In this G-rated novella, Randi Hart tells a story of what it is like to feel helpless and isolated, when people who have been living a perfect, comfortable life are suddenly thrown into the chaotic uncertainty of coping in the wake of a national disaster which is unprecedented in scale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andy Kasch
• Release date: Oct 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393885702

Book preview

San Francisco Island

Randi  Hart

© 2012 by AndrewKaschPublishing.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, religious bodies, corporate or governmental entities, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without the prior written consent of the author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One  The Families – Thursday, April 28th

Chapter Two  A Fairly Typical Friday – April 29th

Chapter Three  Not Your Typical Saturday – April 30th

Chapter Four  The Big One – Saturday, April 30th

Chapter Five  Back at Home

Chapter Six  Emergency Management Team

Chapter Seven  Back at the Ball Park

Chapter Eight  Bureaucratic Bedlam

Chapter Nine  Home is an Island

Chapter Ten  A Night in Chaos

Chapter Eleven  Official Business

Chapter Twelve  Into the Darkness at Home

Chapter Thirteen  Where the Boys Are

Chapter Fourteen  Emergency Management Committee

Chapter Fifteen  Some Things are the Same

Chapter Sixteen  Passing the Days and Nights

Chapter Seventeen  Finally, Help is on the Way ...Sort of

Chapter Eighteen  One Week Later

Chapter Nineteen  Where the Heart Is

Chapter Twenty  Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Twenty One  A New Life

About the Author

Prologue

Saturday, April 30

The clacking sound of each grid below the tires of a vehicle has its own rhythm, almost melodic, perfect and soothing. Jim had driven seven of the 8.4 mile span of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, eyes fixed forward with an occasional glance in his rear view mirror.  The lower span heading east was not the attractive part of the ride, but occasional views down to Yorba Buena Island and Treasure Island broke the monotony.  From overhead came the same recurring rhythm as traffic headed west into San Francisco from Oakland.

It seemed to have been a good decision to have the boys take the bus to Oakland earlier in the morning for their state championship baseball game. The time Jim spent consoling his client on the phone, who had little concern for his day off and family schedule, had cut so far into the time needed for the boys to get to the game they may otherwise have been late. The client’s dilemma kept surfacing in Jim’s mind, but he found it difficult to concentrate for some reason.

A flicker of red light in his rear view mirror drew Jim’s attention away from his thoughts. It’s not unusual to see police vehicles on the span, given the number of agencies traversing from one area to another. Military vehicles also go back and forth all the time, as there are bases surrounding Oakland and San Francisco.

The flickering lights grew larger, until he could no longer ignore the fact that something was going on behind him on the bridge. Jim’s eyes kept darting from windshield to rear view mirror, each time sure that the red light in the rear view mirror was larger than before. He tried to tune in the radio, but that was impossible while on the Bay Bridge, too much interference. 

Flashing red lights now appeared ahead of him, seemingly from out of nowhere. He lowered his speed from 50 miles per hour, out of habit, and moved from the center lane further to the right. Glancing again in the rear view mirror, all he saw now were red flickers but for the cars behind him also heading into Oakland, all beginning to slow down.

As he reached the end of the bridge where he would normally exit on to the 680 freeway, which would lead him to route 24 toward the ball park, Jim pulled over and motioned to a motorcycle cop on the side of the road.

Good morning, officer. Can you tell me what’s happening? Jim asked.

Good morning, sir. All we know is that engineers found some structural damage from the little quake we had last night, so they alerted police agencies to close the Bay Bridge in order to assess the damage. It’s probably nothing much to worry about. Better safe than sorry, right? And they’ve closed the Golden Gate Bridge, too. 

His badge identified him as California Highway Patrol Officer John Salazar.

Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to explain. I’m sure they will be through by the time I head back to the city.

Jim put his car in gear and moved forward off the bridge, anxious to reach his son and be away from the area as quickly as possible. He needed to let Katherine know about the bridges being closed before they got caught in the resulting traffic snarl. The girls would have to take the ferry across to get to the game.

Once parked along the shoulder, he turned at an angle to better see in the mirror, while reaching for his phone on the charger.

Then it happened ...what Californians have feared and expected for years ...a roaring sound exploded under the earth, shaking and rocking every bit of ground like a Disneyland ride. Jim’s heart went to his stomach as he fought an instant wave of nausea—for he somehow knew that life had just changed in a way no one is ever prepared for.

The shaking and rolling lasted much too long – longer than it was supposed to, much longer than earthquakes usually last, even the larger ones. When Jim looked up, he saw that the San Francisco Bay Bridge had come loose from the San Francisco side, its suspension flailing about over the opposite shoreline, the boats below it like toys on top of a swimming pool.

An awful silence ensued. Radio transmissions stopped, television towers on Mt. Sutro crashed to the ground, and cell phone towers fell. The bright blue sky above, without as much as a cloud, belied what was happening on the ground below.

Panic has its own sound. It usually sets in after the initial thirty second shock wears off following a disaster. No planes had flown into skyscrapers. This was an earthquake. The ground stopped shaking and rolling; now people could be heard screaming in the distance.

Jim Welles, for the first time in his life, did not know what to do next. 

Chapter One

The Families – Thursday, April 28th

She was late again, the second time this week, definitely not normal for Katherine. Her habits of continuity and reliability were shattering before her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to take hold of the problem, let alone change it. Her normally organized life was unraveling without as much as a hint for the cause of it.

The animals were acting strangely as well, although they weren’t forgetting appointments or losing their car keys. Ginger, the normally docile collie, hadn’t eaten in two days that Katherine was aware of. She made a mental note to check on Rusty, the cocker spaniel who never deviated from her ordered life. And the cat – when had she last seen the cat? She couldn’t remember.

Thursday was Katherine’s regularly scheduled day as a docent at the San Francisco Museum of Art, from noon to 5 pm, a schedule she had kept for several years. It was a ten minute drive from her home on Telegraph Hill. She sat in the car for a moment before turning on the ignition, double checking to be sure she had things under control. She pulled her SUV forward out of the garage of their home into the street, noting that no one ever backs out of a driveway on Telegraph Hill—one of those social courtesies by neighbors that the city actually believes was imposed by them to make the street safer, as there is always so much traffic there.

The Welles home on Vallejo Street is considered to be halfway up the Hill, Telegraph Hill, one of the most beautiful points in this City of Hills. Only La Paz (in Bolivia) has more hills than San Francisco.  Few who live in the city understand the history and regality of the hills, or appreciate the gardens that flow down Filbert Street to Levi’s Plaza. Except for endless traffic to Coit Tower, Telegraph Hill is much quieter than the adjoining North Beach area, which comes alive primarily in its bustling cafes after dark.

Katherine and Jim bought their home ten years earlier without hesitation or concern about anything, except perhaps for a caution which came from the realization that they had instantly fallen in love with the place. It was a home they would live in to raise their children, who were quite young when they bought it. Later in life it figured to be an easy task to create an environment which would allow everyone to grow older without having to move. And by everyone, they meant themselves as well. It was a four story home if you include the garage at ground level. The second story was a creation of theirs that stumped the city planner’s office at first, but contractors and designers eventually applauded their ingenuity.

Rather than make the second floor the family residence such as living room and kitchen, with the bedrooms on the top floors as most of their neighbors had done, they chose to create an environment for the comfort and enjoyment of children of all ages on the second floor. Their own children, now 15, 14, and 11, influenced the recent decorating changes to adapt more to sports and teenage lifestyles than the previous young children décor. Thus the second floor was actually the recreation room, huge over the three car garage, a place for everyone to hang out.  It was fully furnished with a kitchen and all the supplies one needed for whipping up a quick meal of sloppy Joes or popcorn, had juices and soft drinks on tap, a music area for live jam sessions, a juke box in one corner, a bean bag and director chairs, couches and love seats, pillows of all sizes on the floor, and a pool table.  There were no restrictions on noise, as the overhead and sidewalls adjacent to neighboring homes were soundproofed.

It was the talk of the local designer world. You must see the Welles home. Totally new idea, innovative, a winner. Little did Katherine and Jim realize at the time what an impact they had made. To them, it was practical and lots of fun to plan and live in.

Naturally, they put in an elevator, as it would be too difficult for Jim’s elderly parents to take the stairs to the family unit. Jim’s mother often teased that she always felt like she was visiting at the White House with the family quarters being at the top of the house.

But the library area and living room on the fourth floor always made people realize why they loved living in San Francisco. One window captured the elegance of the Palace of the Legion of Honor and the Golden Gate Bridge. The lights of the Richmond Bridge were visible through a telescope and another side window sparkled from lights dancing on the top span of the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. The panoramic view was exquisite, particularly at night. With the main kitchen and dining areas on the top floor as well, the family could entertain formally or not, depending on who they invited over or the occasion.

Jim and Katherine had both grown up in more formal furnishings, much more the accepted high end decor in the fifties and sixties. They never tired now of their more simple and clean-cut Danish furnishings, light and open rather than heavy fabrics which felt oppressive. It was a battle that both had been prepared for with each other when they first married, but never happened.

The third floor had four bedrooms and a study, which both Jim and Katherine shared as part of the master suite. That suite had dressing rooms which Katherine joked about as being unfinished. She did not have the wardrobe to fill up such space, and told Jim that one day, when the house or children didn’t need anything more, she was going to buy lots of things for herself. He always kissed her behind the ear when she said that, knowing full well the day she put herself before the rest of them would never come.

The two girls were currently sharing a bedroom, but it was clear that Beth, now 14, needed her own room apart from a pesky 11 year old sister. She ranted daily that it just isn’t fair, pleading her saucer brown eyes at her parents, who pretended to hear but not listen. Amy was beginning to complain as well, totally bored with the drama Beth inflicted in her life every day. Jim and Katherine spent time each evening reviewing the possibilities for a solution, knowing they could not give up the guest room and subject their parents to sleeping in the rec room when they came to visit. Without tipping anything to Beth, they believed they were close to making it happen. At least they had blueprints.

Is that what was distracting Katherine, why she was