The Sikorsky air crane seemed to appear from nowhere, moving southwest and gliding just above Lake Washington. But W7HEU didn't notice.

His mouth tight and his hand-held radio clutched in his hand, he stood a little more than six feet from the edge of the giant fissure. All around, houses lay in ruins. Telephone poles and uprooted trees were strewn across heaved and broken yards, some crushing homes or cars parked in the streets. From the top of the hill, the devastation yielded a clear, unexpected view of Lake Washington and occasionally he glanced that direction, only to find the destruction too cruel to contemplate.

Onlookers watched the activity around the fissure from a safe distance. Shirley Goodman, her face cut and one arm bruised, brought a pot of fresh coffee heated over a camp stove. But the Amateur Radio Operator and the young football players with blistered hands refused to pause. Once more, they lowered the only available harness over the edge. One hundred and sixty feet below, another of their team quickly slipped it around a teenage girl, buckled the belts and yanked on the rope. Slowly and carefully, the girl was pulled out of the chasm. Yet fear of the fissure closing grew with each passing moment and the rewards only numbered two women and seven children saved. People still waited amid the ruins of crashed cars and toppled houses -- at the bottom of the frightening "V" shaped crevice.