How much damage did the Anchorage earthquake cause?

Anchorage Earthquakes: When the Ground Shakes and the City Reels

Anchorage. Just the name conjures images of stunning Alaskan landscapes. But beneath that beauty lies a stark reality: this city sits in earthquake country. We’re not just talking about a little rumble here and there. Anchorage has weathered some serious seismic storms, most notably the Good Friday quake of 1964.

That ’64 quake? Forget about it. It was a monster. A magnitude 9.2 – the biggest ever recorded in North America, and second biggest ever, period, since we started keeping track. The ground didn’t just shake; it rolled. And the tsunamis that followed? Devastating. The whole region felt it, and Anchorage got hit hard.

Picture this: March 27, 1964, 5:36 PM. It wasn’t a quick jolt. This went on for three minutes. Imagine the sheer terror. Anchorage, just 78 miles from the epicenter, took the worst of it. And it wasn’t just one type of damage; it was a perfect storm of destruction.

Landslides were the big killer. Especially in areas built on that unstable Bootlegger Cove Clay. The Turnagain Heights neighborhood? Practically swallowed whole. Seventy-five homes vanished in a massive slide. Now it’s Earthquake Park – a grim reminder of nature’s power. I can only imagine what it must have been like to watch your house crumble and slide away. The Government Hill school? Split right in two. Just…gone. Downtown wasn’t spared either. Landslides ripped through Fourth Avenue and L Street, and the Alaska Railroad yards took a beating.

Then there was the soil liquefaction – where the ground turns to something like quicksand. Ground fissures opened up everywhere, swallowing streets and sidewalks. Underground pipes? Forget about it. Twisted and broken. It was chaos.

And the buildings… Many simply weren’t built to withstand that kind of force. The J.C. Penney building? Toast. The brand-new Four Seasons apartment building? Collapsed. Schools, including Government Hill Grade School and Anchorage High School, were hammered. It’s heartbreaking to think of the impact on the kids and the community.

The economic cost? Eye-watering. Back in 1964 dollars, we’re talking about $311 million in damage. But get this – adjust that for inflation to 2022, and you’re looking at nearly three billion dollars. Some estimates even put it higher, closer to four billion. The Army Corps of Engineers alone spent over a billion (in today’s money) just cleaning up the mess. The Alaska Railroad? Twenty-four million in damages – docks, terminals, the whole shebang. It’s hard to wrap your head around those numbers.

Now, fast forward to November 30, 2018. Another big one. A magnitude 7.0. Not as bad as ’64, thank goodness, but still…scary. I remember feeling that one. Everything shook.

This time, the damage was “only” estimated at $76 million. Still a lot of money, but a fraction of what ’64 cost. Public facilities took a hit – roads, bridges, schools. And people’s homes, of course. Hundreds damaged. The school district was looking at anywhere from $25 million to over $150 million to fix things. Can you imagine being a school administrator trying to deal with that?

Even a year later, in late 2019, they were still trying to figure out the full economic impact. Some folks were saying the total damage could climb to half a billion, maybe even three-quarters of a billion dollars. The feds were supposed to cover most of it, but still…that’s a huge burden on the state.

So, what’s the takeaway? Anchorage is earthquake country, plain and simple. The ’64 quake was a once-in-a-lifetime event, but the 2018 quake was a stark reminder that it can happen again. We need to be prepared. We need to invest in strong buildings, resilient infrastructure, and, most importantly, community preparedness. Because when the ground starts shaking, it’s not just about the money; it’s about the people, their homes, and their lives. And that’s something you can’t put a price on.