Clara Barton: A Centenary Tribute to the World's Greatest Humanitarian / Founder of the American Red Cross Society, Author of the American Amendment to the International Red Cross Convention of Geneva, Founder of the National First Aid Association of America

by Charles Sumner Young

A grateful mind is not only the greatest of virtues but the greatest of all virtues. Cicero.

Don’t kneel to me—that is not right. You must kneel to God only, and thank Him for the liberty you will now enjoy. I am but God’s humble instrument. A. Lincoln.

Grateful to me! It is I who should be grateful, and I am.

Clara Barton.

We of South Carolina can never forget her contributions to the storm-wrecked people on our desolated sea-coast, after the fearful tempest of 1893. She came as an angel of mercy. With uncovered heads, and with profound deference, we bow to the blessed name of Clara Barton. The Southern Reporter.

FELL ON THEIR KNEES BEFORE “MIS’ RED CROSS”

A terrific hurricane and tidal wave had struck the coasts of North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia. It was estimated that at least thirty thousand people were rendered homeless,—the larger number of these being of the colored population. Governor Tillman and Senator M. C. Butler sent an urgent request to Clara Barton to come to their assistance.

Clothing was so scarce among the poor colored people that only the men could appear on the streets. About four o’clock in the morning, a crowd gathered about the warehouse. Only men were present and these were attired in such garments as could be found, mostly ragged at the best. In some cases only rags were tied about them, just enough to enable them to come for their rations of food, for their starving families. A motley crowd it was, but there was never any jostling or crowding, nor confusion of any sort.

“Many pathetic scenes come to my mind as I remember this work,” says “Sister Harriette.” “When Miss Barton was engaged and could not be seen, it was my place to receive the visitors, ascertain their wishes, and dispose of them as seemed best. They called Miss Barton ‘Mis’ Red Cross,’ came to see her, sometimes in crowds and, when she was not otherwise engaged, they were taken to her office. Many of them were old women, and upon entering the room one and all fell upon their knees and bowed their heads, as if in the presence of a superior being. She approached them graciously; some seized her hands and kissed them; others reached a fold of her skirts and carried it to their lips, never saying a word, asking for nothing, satisfied with just being permitted to look at her. They left as quietly as they had come in and went out to their homes satisfied that they had been permitted to see ‘Mis’ Red Cross.’”