|
Earthquake Stories
Sunday, March 11, 2001 THE ROAD BACK: ONE BUSINESS
Downtown digs out, digs in, reopens doors Store owner perseveres, plans to rebuild SCOTT WYLAND, THE OLYMPIAN Originally published Mar. 11
OLYMPIA -- In the heart of downtown, a sidewalk clock is frozen at 10:52, the time it showed when the earthquake thundered through.
It's a telling reminder of an event that left many buildings battered and many people uncertain about downtown's future.
But just 10 days after the earthquake, fenced-off areas are vanishing. Stores are re-opening.
Downtown is recovering.
"Business is back to normal, with some rare exceptions," said Connie Lorenz, executive director of the Olympia Downtown Association.
Traffic has been slower since the earthquake, partly because the Fourth Avenue bridge is closed and partly because people perceive downtown as a ghost town, with sealed-off streets and empty stores, Lorenz said.
Now, she is trying to reverse that perception.
The truth is that most streets are free of barricades, traffic is flowing smoothly and merchants are back at work, she said.
"We need to get people back to downtown, to keep supporting the businesses and keep them alive," Lorenz said.
But even though the city's outward scars are less obvious, many business owners are still recovering financially and emotionally.
Like a locomotive
On Feb. 28, Carl Applebaum was in his violin shop, talking on the phone to a person in San Francisco, when he heard a roar similar to a passing train.
A second later, the shop began heaving like a ship in a storm. Violins that hung from hooks began swinging and twirling. Several were priceless pieces crafted in the 18th century.
The San Francisco man on the phone had been through a couple of quakes and recognized the sounds. "He asked, 'Are you having an earthquake?' " Applebaum recalls. "I said, 'Yes, I guess we are.' Then the phone cut off."
Most of the instruments, including a grand piano in the playing room, came through unscathed. A few violins were left with minor nicks that could easily be fixed.
But for two days, Applebaum was gripped with uncertainty as he waited for inspectors to decide whether his building, the former Olympia Hotel, should be condemned.
"Not being able to get back in the building was distressing," Applebaum said.
He dreaded the prospect of laying off employees, slipping into debt and being uprooted from a place that had always felt right to him.
As the owner of a small shop, he couldn't just write off financial losses and move on, he said.
Being idle frayed his nerves even more.
"I didn't know what to do with myself for a couple days," he said. "I'm one of these people that defines (himself) by what he does."
Applebaum said he is still unsettled by how suddenly and unexpectedly an earthquake can disrupt a person's life.
"There's that kind of feeling of insecurity that your world has been shaken up a little, and it takes awhile to get back from that," he said. "Any cataclysmic event will make you look at your life, where you're going."
Peeling back layers
The Urban Onion, a neighboring tenant, was closed for six days after the quake.
"That's a huge chunk of business," said Elyse Harrington, who has owned the eatery since the late 1980s. "We get between 350 and 400 (patrons) a day."
The restaurant has yet to rebound, she said, estimating that on Thursday she was serving 80 to 100 customers. "Hopefully the business is going to come back."
Many people see the scaffolding out front and assume the building is still off limits, but they need to know it is safe to come in, she said.
Harrington is still surveying the damage.
The earthquake destroyed a dozen bottles of mid-priced wine and computer equipment. It also knocked out the power, spoiling all the food in the walk-in coolers.
Because she carried no earthquake insurance, the only loss that's covered is the spoiled food.
Harrington has begun bouncing back emotionally.
"It's very draining," Harrington said. "I'm the kind of person that keeps going and going and going. I was exhausted Sunday night just from the earthquake stuff."
No rooms at the inn
With the state Legislature in session, the 125-room Ramada Inn Governor's House was enjoying its peak season.
Then the earthquake hit.
An 800-gallon water tank, installed on the hotel's top floor, was wrenched from its main pipes.
Water poured from the tank and high pressure lines, flooding rooms on the eight floors below.
The quake also caused major structural damage and ruined heating and air-conditioning equipment, said Sandra Miller, the hotel's general manager.
The inn sustained about $4 million in damage, Miller said. Pumping water out of the rooms alone will cost $40,000, she said.
The hotel is a franchise owned by a family in the Seattle area, she said. It's not part of a huge corporate chain.
"We're a small business like any downtown business that makes it or breaks it on their own," she said.
About 40 employees at the hotel have been given pink slips. A half-dozen people have remained to book guests into other hotels and to help clean up, she said.
The hardest part of the whole experience was when city officials ordered her to lock down the hotel, something she's never had to do in her 15 years in the hospitality business, she said.
"To totally lock it down to where there's no access," she said. "It was extremely hard -- devastating -- at that point."
But Miller is confident that the hotel will reopen eventually.
"We're going to come out of this," she said.
Scott Wyland is a business reporter for The Olympian. He can be reached at 357-0748.
On the web:
The Olympian Copyright 2000 back to main Earthquake Stories index
|
|
|
 The Olympian - Olympia, Washington 
Use of this site signifies your agreement to the Terms of Service. ©2002 The Olympian. |