When she arrived at the dam, she greeted an acquaintance with, “I’ve been a pretty tough old bird, but I wouldn’t want to go through that again!” [Illustration: Mrs. Grace Miller’s house, which dropped into Hebgen Lake, floating along what used to be Route 287. (U. S. Forest Service)] In a forest fire lookout on top of 10,300-ft.-high Mt. Holmes in Yellowstone Park, the first shock threw Penn State College student David Bittner out of his bunk. “By golly, they’ll believe me this time,” he said with satisfaction as he picked himself up off the floor. Several days earlier he’d phoned a report of substantial tremors, but no one would take his report seriously. Charles Godkin, chef at the Frontier, and his wife, Ruth, a waitress, were driving home at 11:37. “We must have a flat,” she said as the car thumped and shook along the road. When Godkin got out to look, the ground was bucking so strenuously that he could hardly stand up. Back at the Frontier, he found steak plates all over the floor. In the establishment’s walk-in freezer he found the floor covered with mayonnaise—a foot deep! ■ At the Emmett J. Culligan place, dubbed the “Blarneystone Ranch,” the Santa Barbara water softener tycoon spent hundreds of thousands of dollars building a refuge from the possibility of atomic attack. Ironically, the main fault of the earthquake rammed through one end of his building’s cement block foundation, raising the ground 15 ft., twisting and cracking the whole 150-ft. length of the building. Ironically, too, Culligan’s spread was perhaps the only one reputed to be covered by earthquake insurance. His caretaking family, John and Doris Russell, were trapped in their cottage and had to crawl out and pass their children through a chin-high 15-inch square window. ■ At the proud dude ranch, Parade Rest, where Bud and Lu Morris capitalize on the area’s superb fishing, the shock toppled chimneys atop the massive log buildings and sent the guests scurrying outdoors. Huddled around a huge campfire in the courtyard, where it seemed safer, they felt bewildered and helpless as the ground continued to heave and writhe throughout the night. For hours, the shocks continued at the rate of one every minute. By morning the kitchen was a shambles—“like a cabin a grizzly bear had worked over. Dishes, flour—everything crashed to the floor. The only thing to do was to clean it up with a broom and shovel,” Lu Morris said. [Illustration: The fault scarp running through the Culligan place. (U. S. Geological Survey)] [Illustration: This ground was level before the quake. (Christopherson)]