This splendid eyewitness account was written by Emma M. Burke, wife of San Francisco attorney Bart Burke, who lived on Waller Street near Golden Gate Park at the time of the earthquake.
It grew constantly worse, the noise deafening; the crash of dishes, falling pictures, the rattle of the flat tin roof, bookcases being overturned, the piano hurled across the parlor, the groaning and straining of the building itself, broken glass and falling plaster, made such a roar that no one noise could be distinguished.
We never knew when the chimney came tearing through; we never knew when a great marine picture weighing one hundred and twenty-five pounds crashed down, not eight feet away from us; we were frequently shaken loose from our hold on the door, and only kept our feet by mutual help and our utmost efforts.
We never knew when the chimney came tearing through; we never knew when a great marine picture weighing one hundred and twenty-five pounds crashed down, not eight feet away from us; we were frequently shaken loose from our hold on the door, and only kept our feet by mutual help and our utmost efforts.
of the greatest possible degree or extent or intensity
We never knew when the chimney came tearing through; we never knew when a great marine picture weighing one hundred and twenty-five pounds crashed down, not eight feet away from us; we were frequently shaken loose from our hold on the door, and only kept our feet by mutual help and our utmost efforts.
I rushed to the window and saw my neighbor of the lower flat standing in the middle of the street in her nightclothes, clasping her little babe in her arms.
But the ambulance was found to be narrower than the remaining door, willing hands were lifting and turning the great stones out of the way, and finally the frightened horses hauled it out over an amount of debris that in ordinary times would have been considered insurmountable.