We left the train at a siding about a mile from the works, and had just started in their direction when there came a sudden boom and roar, and the earth shook. Over the powder works there rose a huge column of black smoke, flaring wide into the sky.
We found a great crater where the mixing house had stood. Three men were working in the building when the explosion occurred. A fortunate survivor who had left the place a moment before to go for a bucket of drinking water, was walking about the crater, apparently searching for something among the scattered remnants. As we approached him, he sadly said:
“I can’t find much of the boys. I guess you’ll have to plow the ground if you want to bury them.”
A LIVELY DEAD ONE
Several years ago, at the works of the American Forcite Company, a batch of nitrogelatin blew up in process of manufacture and several men were killed. One laborer who was working so close to where the explosion occurred that his clothing was nearly all blown off and he was spattered with the blood of his companions and crazed by the shock, started in a wild and aimless run along the road, with his tattered garments flying in the wind.
A woman of the neighborhood, whose husband was employed at the works, intercepted him with the eager inquiry:
“Is anyone killed?”
“Yes, yes!” said he, “We are all killed! Every one of us is killed!”