The 1906 earthquake: Did it happen here?

Petaluma saw significant damage from the quake, but much less than its neighbors, so it went about helping Santa Rosa and San Francisco

April 12, 2006

By DANE GOLDEN AND KATIE WATTS
FOR THE ARGUS-COURIER

Nothing happened in Petaluma on April 18, 1906, the day of the great San Francisco Earthquake and ensuing fire.

Or so the common wisdom goes.

But while it's true that the damage in Petaluma was slight in comparison to the destruction wrought on San Francisco or Santa Rosa, it was far from nothing. In fact, if the same amount of damage had happened in Petaluma today, it probably would have occasioned the need for federal assistance.

"Nothing," in this case, means the following, according to issues of the Daily Argus, the Daily Courier, City Council minutes and a statewide earthquake report.

The building on the corner of Washington and Main (now Petaluma Boulevard) belonging to Ellen Johnson of Oakland, was condemned and in need of major repairs. Other downtown buildings in need of significant repairs included the Miller, Brown, Lynch, and Conway buildings, the National and Wickersham banks, the American Hotel, the electric light station, and the tower and all the corners of the Carlson-Currier silk mill (later Sunset Line & Twine). A couple of buildings in the Golden Eagle Mill complex were damaged, as well as the chimney of the Western Refrigeration Company. A busted water main on the top floor of City Hall created an enormous mess. Also, the clock tower was damaged, as well as the Sonoma drawbridge. Damage to schools kept them closed for a week, and the stone McNear hay barn was completely destroyed.

The California State Earthquake Investigation Commission study (also known as the Lawson report) stated that in the majority of Petaluma homes, chimneys fell down. Citizens were encouraged to cook outdoors, less they start a fire in their damaged chimneys and ignite the entire town like San Francisco, which was still on fire days after the quake. A chimney inspector began checking 80 homes a day, and 20 men were deputized to prevent people from starting any fires in their homes.

Additionally, the reservoir had cracked and a water main burst at Sixth and I streets, so water was scarce in town.

But in comparison to the surrounding areas, Petaluma's damage was insignificant. The town was very connected to the outside world and knew it had nothing to complain about.

"Although there were narrow escapes, no lives were lost," reported the Argus. "Most of the buildings wrecked were ancient affairs which should have been condemned years ago."

When the earthquake hit in the pre-dawn hour there were no doubt a number of local farmers already beginning their daily chores. According to the Argus, local dairymen reported that when the earthquake occurred "the cows all laid down and refused to get up." In addition, "horses smelled of the earth and snorted with terror. Chickens cackled, dogs whined and the air was full of strange sounds."

Although the Argus reported early on that no local citizens died in the quake, that didn't prove to be entirely accurate.

The elderly and infirm Mrs. Ehlinger, who "was completely prostrated over the earthquake," according to the Courier, fell down a few hours after the quake hit and became partially paralyzed. She died a few days later. Petaluma resident Henry Seiss was staying with relatives in San Francisco and died when trapped in the burning building.

A week after the quake, Mr. R.H. Rasmussen of Bodega Avenue, a former McNear employee, committed suicide by hanging himself from the tree in his yard, apparently because of significant financial losses in San Francisco. And Robert G. Alkire, a quartermaster sergeant of Petaluma's Company C National Guard unit, died on April 29 of pneumonia while the unit was deployed in Santa Rosa.

In addition, reported the Courier, "Miss Jeannette Murry of B Street, whose mind became unbalanced by the earthquake, was adjudged insane and taken to the state hospital for the insane at Ukiah."

Former Petalumans who died in crumbling buildings included Miss Phoebe Green in Santa Rosa, and Mrs. Annie Conway and Mrs. Mollie Fay in San Francisco.

Additionally, scores of Petaluma residents, former residents, friends and relatives were in San Francisco, Santa Rosa or Napa during the quake, in buildings that collapsed upon them as they slept during the early morning hour, but lived to tell about it. Many soon returned to Petaluma, bringing their horrid tales with them.

Many aftershocks, sometimes several a night, extended for several weeks. At first, many residents slept outdoors, afraid to have their homes fall on them while asleep.

And locals were hungry for news of the outside world. So much so that they stole the evening Daily Courier newspapers off residents' lawns the day after the quake.

"It would probably be advisable for subscribers to watch for the paper for a few nights until things quiet down some," the paper suggested.

City rose to the occasion, helping Santa Rosa and San Francisco

On the evening of the quake, the Argus reported, Petalumans met en masse at City Hall to "make arrangements for the immediate assistance and relief for our sister city, Santa Rosa." Committees were formed to solicit subscriptions and provisions, both inside and outside the city, and City Marshal Collins was charged with borrowing horses for those engaged in collecting. And all households "were asked to get together that which would be most desirable in the way of provisions, to be sent to City Hall." Women were appointed to take charge of all cooked food.

As soon as the city itself had been assessed for damage, and news had come of the severity of the quake in Santa Rosa, two trains were dispatched. The first carried medical assistance: local doctors Gossage, Urban, Bennett, Peoples, McMullin and Anderson. The second relief train brought the Petaluma fire department, Company C (Petaluma's National Guard contingent), and hundreds of willing workers and anxious ones seeking local relatives. The trip was made in a record 14 minutes. "The firemen on the flat cars and in the box cars clung to each other for safety," the paper said.

Later in the day, Mrs. H.H. Huntington and the ladies of her committee returned from Santa Rosa to ask Petalumans to donate clothing, "especially night gowns." A number of Santa Rosans came as well "and were tenderly cared for. They were principally traveling men, wearing nondescript attire and all were dazed by their awful experience."

The most somber note of all came in the report that local coroner Frank Blackburn "brought up a number of coffins for the victims of the calamity."

By Thursday morning, "City Hall looked like a big grocery store and bakery combined É The building containing the Palm Café was condemned so the owner added his entire stock of food."

The burning city of San Francisco was not forgotten either. On Wednesday evening, the steamers Gold and Sonoma had to return to Petaluma with all their freight, and nearly all the eggs in the shipment had broken. But by the following day the steamers were delivering food and water and returning with refugees.

San Rafael, also spared heavy damage, was unable to care for all who came seeking refuge. "A special 3 o'clock train brought several hundred to this city today. They were met by a committee and escorted to Kenilworth Park, where they will be made comfortable in the big pavilion."

But most refugees were taken to Petalumans' homes. Three days after the quake, the Argus reported, "The population of Petaluma is today nearly 10,000. Over 99 percent of the refugees are former Petalumans who have relatives and friends here. As the scores of refugees left the cars the past few days, nearly all were grabbed by somebody and hugged."

Farmers living outside town also responded enthusiastically, "contributing supplies liberally and offering accommodations."

Although damaged, the Golden Eagle Mills were still able to run at full capacity. "They will run night and day to furnish flour for the suffering," the Argus reported,

Cash donations were made by many. The Foresters of America donated $1,000, the Eagles $130 and James Moore, $50. The high school students gave their yearbook money, and Jim Kee, who ran a laundry in Petaluma's Chinatown, donated $23 he had collected from his friends.

Two of Petaluma's law firms, Lippitt and Lippitt and Haskell & Denny, offered their offices for Santa Rosa's legal community to use as their own. Local doctors offered free treatment to "any stranger in Petaluma" and D.W. Ravenscroft donated the use of several of his cottages on Broadway Street as a temporary hospital. The Odd Fellows Hall was offered as a shelter as well.

"Cheer up your despondent friends," advised the Argus. "When order comes out of chaos, the work of rebuilding will make work for a vast army. The banks of California are bursting with coin. California is all right, and San Francisco will rise phoenix-like from her ashes."

(Contact the writers at argus@arguscourier.com. Special thanks to Katherine Rinehart, Walter Roeder, John Benanti, Claire Cooper, Alice Forsyth and several others for their assistance in the research of this story.)