A Woman who went to Alaska

by May Kellogg Sullivan

Happy, indeed, were the great numbers of dogs fed from the "Star" kitchen. No beggar was ever turned away. No homeless and discouraged soul, whether man or woman, sober or drunken, was allowed to leave as forlorn as he entered. Men often sat down at the tables, who, when filled with good food and hot drink, in a warm and comfortable room fell asleep from the effects of previous stimulants and sank to the floor. When this happened some strong and helpful arm assisted such a one with friendly advice, to the street.

The two sisters were now our nearest neighbors, the third and married one having gone with her husband to live in a new cottage of their own in another part of the town. The eldest of the two had kindly offered me lodging in the back part of their store building of which our restaurant rooms were a half, and from which we were only separated by a board partition. This was a temporary arrangement until I could find something that suited me close at hand, as I chose to be near my work on account of going to my room in the evening after my duties were done. The sisters themselves still lived in their large warehouse a few feet back from the store, and between it and the surf which rolled ceaselessly upon the sands.

I was now more comfortably lodged than since I had landed at Nome. My canvas cot, placed in the back of the store, vacant except for a few rolls of carpeting, matting and oil cloth on sale by the sisters, stood not far from the large coal heater in which fire was kept during the day, making the room warm and dry when I came in at night. Near the foot of my cot a good window admitted light and sunshine, and a door opened upon a flight of six stairs into a tiny square yard before one entered the warehouse, where lived the sisters. This latter building was made of corrugated iron, on piles, with windows and a door in the south end looking directly out upon the water only a few feet away, and was fitted cosily enough for the summer, but not intended for anything further except storage purposes. A second door in the north end, opposite the one in the store, and only separated from it by the little yard was the door generally used. At this time lodgings without fire were worth dollars a night in crowded Nome, and one's next neighbors might prove themselves anything but desirable.

Meanwhile we worked steadily. Many of the Anvil Creek mine owners and their men took meals at the "Star" whenever in town. Some of their office employees came regularly. Hundreds were "going outside" on boats, and all was bustle and excitement. At least twenty-five thousand people had landed at Nome during the summer, and fully one-half of them had gone home discouraged.

On Sunday, September second, there came up a most terrible storm, which, for the velocity of its gales, tremendous downfall of rain, terrific surf, accompanied by great loss of life, as well as length of duration, had not been equalled for over twenty years. Never before was the property loss so great on the Behring Sea coast.

By nine o'clock Sunday morning the large steamers at anchor had put far out to sea for safety. The wind rose, the rain poured. The surf was growing more rough. At dinner time those who came in reported the dead bodies of nine men picked up on the beach. They had attempted to land from a steamer, and their small boat was swamped. One of the men drowned was the mate of the vessel. For days the storm lasted and our work increased. It was not long before the continuous rain had penetrated our little kitchen roof and walls, roughly built as they were of boards, and from that on we worked in rubber boots and short skirts tucked still higher. With the storm at its hardest, I donned a regular "sou'wester," or water proof hat, rather than stand with the rain dripping upon my head, and a cape of the same material covered my shoulders.

People living in tents when the storm began—and there were thousands—had been washed out, or been obliged to leave them, and could not get their own meals. The "Star" swarmed with hundreds who had never been there before, as well as those in the habit of coming. Ten days passed. Sometimes there would be a lull in the storm for a few hours and we hoped it was over, but the surf ran high and could not return before the wind again lashed it into fury.

One midnight, when I was sleeping soundly after an unusually hard day's duties in the kitchen, there came a hasty knock at my door.

"Let me in quick Mrs. Sullivan, the warehouse, we fear, is going. We must come in here. We will bring some more of our things," and little sister dropped the armful of clothing she carried and ran back for more.

Sure enough, as I looked, the water surged up under the warehouse to the foot of the steps. When she returned with another load I offered to dress and assist them, but she said they would only bring the clothing and bedding, and I better go back to bed.