Indianapolis awoke the following morning to find the waters higher than ever appeared before, with a property loss that two days before would have been unbelievable. It was hard to bring the full realization of the damage to the people, who had no thought of a flood from streams that ordinarily are unimportant, aiding only in beautifying the city's parks and boulevard driveways.
A NIGHT OF DISASTER AND FEAR
During the night the water advanced upon the exclusive residence section along Fall Creek. It tore away one bridge, destroyed the city's most pretentious driveway and forced the families living along its banks to desert their palatial homes.
A few hours before they had no idea they were in any danger, and were awakened by the militiamen to be ordered from the threatened buildings, only to find every hotel in the city full. They were cared for at the homes of friends.
The Washington Street bridge over the White River that connects Indianapolis and West Indianapolis, which was closed for traffic late Tuesday night, in the early morning was torn apart by the waters, the floor of the structure being carried away.
A DESOLATE CITY
With the breaking of day came the proposition of feeding the refugees. The city appropriated money to supply immediate needs and a relief fund was started. Drinking water was at a premium, and water for bathing was practically unattainable.
Schools were closed, and there was a general suspension of business. The water in some of the streets north of Fall Creek, only fifteen miles from the business district, swept everything before it. The street cars remained standing in the streets where they were stopped when the power house was flooded. All interurban lines were at a standstill and the steam roads had poor success in getting trains out of the city. Passenger trains were shut out of the city on the lines entering from the West, and the passengers were forced to share the lot of the homeless refugees.
By Thursday conditions in Indianapolis were such that Governor Ralston was impelled to issue a proclamation asking for general relief. Five hundred refugees from West Indianapolis were brought in small boats to the Blaine Street wharf. Some of these had been clinging to trees for hours. Others were taken from floating houses. Women with babies were taken from the upper stories of houses. The refugees said that many had been killed in Wolf Hall when the floors of that building gave way under the strain of hundreds who had taken refuge there. Reports of death were everywhere exaggerated, owing to the difficulty of accurate knowledge and the shattered nerves of the sufferers.
SYSTEMATIC RESCUE WORK