CLEARING AWAY THE DEBRIS
Efforts were made to clear away debris in sections where the flood water had run off, and it was feared bodies might be found in these masses of wreckage. With well organized crews doing this work, others took food to persons still marooned in Riverdale and North Dayton.
The two hundred and fifty persons marooned in the Algonquin Hotel, in the heart of the flood district, moved from their prison after the waters had receded. Most of them said there was a general scare at the fire which burned along Jefferson and Third Streets, on Wednesday night. There was one death in the hotel, Johnny Flynn, a bell boy. Several of the guests organized the majority after the flood waters had cut off escape on Tuesday, and for three evenings programs of entertainments were given in the hotel dining-room. It was decreed by a safety committee that any person who declined to contribute to the entertainment would be compelled figuratively to walk the plank. There were no dissenters.
Among those marooned in hotels were one hundred from New York, Chicago, Columbus, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Toledo, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Detroit, Boston and St. Louis. All were safe.
A brilliant sunshine threw an uncanny light over the distorted scenes in the areas where the homes of 75,000 people were swept away or toppled over. A view down almost any street revealed among the wreckage, tumbled-over houses, pianos, household utensils and dead horses brushed together in indescribable confusion. At two points the bodies of horses were seen still caught in the tops of trees.
Digging bodies out of the mud was the chief work of rescuing parties. The water had drained off from almost all the flooded area. In some instances the mud was several feet deep.
The rush of the currents claimed the greatest toll of lives, judging from how most of the bodies recovered were found. They were washed up onto the ground from new-made rivers and many were found buried in the wreckage. In moving this workmen moved carefully, fearing they might tread upon bodies, but they were not found in groups.
It was anticipated that the majority of the bodies of flood victims would be found buried under the debris in the Miami Canal under great piles of wreckage and far down the Miami River, at Miamisburg, Middletown and Hamilton. Those who were drowned for the most part were caught in the streets either while on their way to their places of business and employment or while trying to get to places of safety when forced to flee from their houses. Lieutenant Leatherman, surgeon of the Third Regiment, O. N. G., who went through the flood in West Dayton, said that he saw scores of dead bodies floating down the Miami River and many people were swimming, but there was not one chance in ten thousand that these were saved, he said.
The policing of the city by the military was reorganized with Brigadier-General George H. Wood commanding and Captain Tyrus G. Reed as Adjutant General. The city was turned over into a military district of five military zones, and rigid orders were laid down for the conduct of its affairs.
Chairmen of the various committees were unanimous in asking that word be spread broadcast that mere sightseeing visitors were not wanted. The railroads were informed of this attitude and conductors refused to accept passengers who could not show that their presence here was necessary. There were thousands of visitors in the city. Most of them were from surrounding towns.