SAN FRANCISCO — The last time I wrote a column from this seat, there was fire in my hands. An earthquake had struck, Candlestick Park was dark, most of the frightened crowd had already rushed the exits. Alone, with no lights and one working telephone, I took a cardboard lunch box, lit it with a match, and, holding its flame above me so I could see, I tapped out the keys to send a story to my newspaper.
SAN FRANCISCO — Slowly, they began to clap. First one, then two, then all of them, applauding, cheering, these rescue workers who have been days without a smile, covered in dirt, performing the most gruesome task that humans can be asked to perform: removing the dead. The bodies were mangled. Crushed. Some beyond recognition. And suddenly, miraculously, a heartbeat, a breath of life.
A man named Bucky Helm, trapped since Tuesday’s earthquake in the wreckage of the Nimitz Freeway.
If Herschel Walker, whose talents still did not lead to a single victory for the Dallas Cowboys this season, was worth 12 players, a new house, a Mercedes and an extra $1.5 million cash above his salary, just think what other NFL stars might fetch:
* Eric Dickerson: 15 players, three condominiums, $2 million cash and a lifetime supply of goggles.
* Randall Cunningham: 23 players, apartment complex, $3 million and a Coca-Cola bottling plant.
* Joe Montana: 45 players, most of Bloomfield Hills, $8 million and General Motors.
SAN FRANCISCO — I am writing this column in the most frightening position I have ever been in, some 200 feet above the ground in Candlestick Park, which just moments ago was shaking as if the entire stadium were on a wagon being wheeled over cobblestone. An earthquake, they call it out here, with some regularity, and even as I type these words, the stadium occasionally rolls — aftershocks — with the concrete, the steel supports, everything shaking, as if suddenly there is no such thing as sturdy, not anymore.
The only newsletter dedicated to updates, exclusive content, and giveaways of Mitch's books!
