The Great Galveston Disaster / Containing a Full and Thrilling Account of the Most Appalling Calamity of Modern Times Including Vivid Descriptions of the Hurricane and Terrible Rush of Waters; Immense Destruction of Dwellings, Business Houses, Churches, and Loss of Thousands of Human Lives; Thrilling Tales of Heroic Deeds; Panic-Stricken Multitudes and Heart-Rending Scenes of Agony; Frantic Efforts to Escape a Horrible Fate; Separation of Loved Ones, etc., etc.; Narrow Escapes from the Jaws of Death; Terrible Sufferings of the Survivors; Vandals Plundering Bodies of the Dead; Wonderful Exhibitions of Popular Sympathy; Millions of Dollars Sent for the Relief of the Stricken Sufferers

by Paul Lester

CLOTHED ONE THOUSAND.

One thing developed by the storm that has not been commented upon is the manner in which the so-called “society men” have taken hold of things. They have worked like Trojans, every one of them, and have proven that the wearing of good and fashionably cut garments is no evidence of lack of manhood. Some of the first to go out in charge of gangs of men clearing away the debris and burying the bodies were the young fellows one meets at cotillions and fashionable functions. To-day their fair skins are cracked and burned with sun and wind, their hands blistered and burned, and their clothes covered with mud and slime. They glory in their young manhood, and are not one bit ashamed to go about with their collarless negligee shirt open at the neck, or their sleeves rolled up. Some of them have not shaved since the storm, and look more like subjects for charity than many who apply for relief.

One young man, who probably clothed one thousand people in two days, is going around in a very much soiled, borrowed shirt. His home was destroyed, and all the clothes he saved he had on his back at the time. He has not had time to buy new clothing, although he has probably clothed one thousand people. He would as soon have stolen as to have taken one of the nice clean shirts he was giving away. Besides, it never occurred to him.

Mr. J. Martin, one of the refugees at Houston, who passed through the storm at Galveston all right, save a gash in the head, a black eye, a mashed nose, and a sprained arm and leg, says that on the night of the storm he sought shelter in six different houses. As the last of these houses in turn succumbed to the force of the hurricane, Mr. Martin was plunged into the dark and angry waters, amid its splintering ruins. Numerous times, he said, falling timbers would knock him unconscious for a few moments, and after regaining his senses he would be so full of water, so exhausted and weak from his desperate exertions and loss of blood, that he felt like giving up all hope and allowing the water to draw him under and relieve him of his sufferings.