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

HOUSES IN FRIGHTFUL COLLISION.

“A house was washed against ours. In it the wreckers found eight bodies, three of these and a night sergeant of police were buried in one yard. Our house rocked dreadfully. It and the two houses on either side of it, are old houses built over. No one thought they could stand the fury of the gale; but they were the only three left standing in that part of the city. Mr. Frank Groome and Mr. Hall had to swim home. The house in which Mr. Hall spent the night was split in two, but the side he was in was left standing. If the wind had continued for two hours longer, there would not have been one person left to tell the tale. When the storm first started my brother and I went to the beach to watch the water.

“Even then the water was backing up in the gutters and the little whitecaps were dancing on the waves. The steps of our house were washed away, but Sunday morning we found the body of a woman lodged in the brick work. Our pet donkey was drowned, but we saved the dogs and the cats as they were in the house. There were five big dogs and three little puppies. Paddy, a big dog, would sit around looking at us. He kept whining the whole time as if he knew something unusual was going on. They say black cats are lucky. Well, we had three of them. These would rub up against us in a frightened way.

“Sunday morning, Mr. Groome came out to tell us about papa. Mrs. Brown, a friend of mamma’s, sent for us to come to her house. Nearly all the furniture of her house was ruined by the water. The surrender of the city of Galveston to the Union troops was written in her house and the table on which it was written is still there. We had a hard time getting to Mrs. Brown’s. We walked part of the way. A colored man with a bony horse hitched to a rickety little delivery wagon—‘dago carts,’ we call them—hauled us the rest of the way for a dollar a piece. All through the streets we met hysterical women and dazed-looking men.

“The wife of Dr. Longino, an army surgeon, was at a friend’s house, with her little baby, when the storm commenced. During the storm, from fright or something else, the baby lost its breath. Everybody thought the child was dead and tried to persuade Mrs. Longino to leave it and try to save herself but she would not do so. She caught hold of the baby’s tongue and held it so it could not retard the passage of air in the windpipe.