The pitcher of milk sits in the center of the table.  Should I sneak a drink to tide me over until the potatoes are mashed?

I love milk, even the concentrated stuff Mom buys at the commissary.  You have to mix it with three parts water and then it's reconstituted. 

As Mom puts the finishing touches on dinner, I sit down at the table next to my Dad.  I'm hungry.  My brother and sister are engrossed in a tv program.

"Stop shaking the table, Daddy," I complain.

He has a habit of putting his knee under the table and making this rickety army-issue table vibrate and dance the food all over the place.  Then I shriek, and Dad laughs.  He loves to tease.

"I'm not doing it," he replies innocently.

"Oh, sure," I'm thinking.

"Come on, Daddy, stop it," I whine.

Dad isn't laughing.

"I'm not doing it," he insists.  About that time the kitchen counters start vibrating, too.  My chair dances on its own legs.

I stay put in the chair, but Dad hops up and steadies the fifty-gallon fish tank.  Water sloshes over the sides in both directions.  Dad yells, "Let's get out."

In my bare feet, I about get trampled standing in the small entryway trying to poke my foot into a boot.  So I grab them and follow the family out the door.  Dad is right behind me, yelling,

"Stay away from the power poles," which are dancing to the same tune as the chair and the table.

On March 27, 1964, Anchorage started shaking like it never shook before. Earthquakes are a common occurence along the Pacific Rim. However, the 1964 Good Friday earthquake remains the most powerful seismic activity ever recorded in the United States.

Our family lived about 75 miles (120 kilometeres) from the center of the quake which was in Prince William Sound.

I cannot describe the sheer horror of living through that night. The shaking lasted about three minutes. When the realization of what happened began to sink in, the fear became horrible. My brother, sister and I could not sleep inside that night. Daddy parked the camper nearby and we slept there.

In the dark the aftershocks were even more scary than the original quake. As the reports of damage came in over the radio, we realized the enormity of what we had just experienced.

• The airport control tower collapsed.
• The second floor of West Anchorage High School collasped flat.
• Concrete-slab walls of the J.C. Penney store crash to the street.
• One side of downtown 4th Avenue sank eleven feet.
• Turnagain by the Sea subdivision was now Turnagain in the Sea.

A businessman put a sign outside his store, "I knew that making a living in Alaska would be hard, but I never thought I'd go this far in the hole."

At the time of the earthquake, we were told the magnitude was 8.5. According to the way earthquakes are measured in 1999, the magnitude has been revised to Mw 9.2 on the Richter Scale.

When our family returned to our quarters, a huge mess awaited. The kitchen cabinet doors were open and all the contents had mixed on the floor, combinations such as corn meal and syrup. At the top of the stairs, the bookcase tipped over and all the volumes cascaded down the steps.

One item, though, escaped destruction. The pitcher of reconstituted milk was sitting right where we left it, in the middle of the kitchen table, not one drop of milk had spilled.

• Seismology at Geophysical Institute, University of Alaska Fairbanks.
• 1964 Alaska Earthquake
• Everything you wanted to know about earthquake magnitudes, but were too shaken to ask.
• The Great Alaska Earthquake of 1964
• Virtual Earthquake
• Photos taken March 28, 1964.
• National Earthquake Information Center