Mr. A. V. Kellogg, a civil engineer in the employ of the Right of Way Department of the Houston and Texas Central Railroad in Houston, went down to Galveston Saturday morning on company business, leaving on the Galveston, Houston and Henderson train which departs from Houston at 9.45. Mr. Kellogg had an interesting tale of his experiences getting into Galveston, of the storm and its effects and how he managed to get out of the city and into Houston again.
“When we crossed the bridge over Galveston Bay going to Galveston, said Mr. Kellogg, the water had reached an elevation equal to the bottom of the caps of the pile bents, or two feet below the level of the track. After crossing the bridge and reaching a point some two miles beyond we were stopped by reason of the washout of the track ahead and were compelled to wait one hour for a relief train to come out on the Galveston, Houston and Henderson track. During this period of one hour the water rose a foot and a half, running over the rails of the track.
“The relief train signaled us to back up a half mile to higher ground, where the passengers were transferred, the train crew leaving with the passengers and going on the relief train. The water had reached an elevation of eight or ten inches above the Galveston, Houston and Henderson track and was flowing in a westward direction at a terrific speed. The train crew were compelled to wade ahead of the engine and dislodge driftwood from the track. At 1.15 we arrived at the Santa Fe union depot. At that period of the day the wind was increasing and had then reached a velocity of about thirty-five miles an hour.
THE HOTEL FLOODED.
“After arriving at Galveston I immediately went to the Tremont Hotel, where I remained the balance of the day and during the night. At 5.30 the water had begun to creep into the rotunda of the hotel, and by 8 o’clock it was twenty-six inches above the floor of the hotel, or about six and one-half feet above the street level. The front windows of the hotel were blown in between the hours of 5 and 8. The roof was blown off and the skylights over the rotunda fell in and fell through, crashing on the floor below. The refugees began to come into the hotel between 5.30 and 8 o’clock until at least 800 or 1,000 persons had sought safety there. The floors were strewn with people all during the night.
“Manager George Korst and the employes of the hotel did everything in their power to help the sufferers from the effects of the storm and to give them shelter. At 5 o’clock the wind was blowing from the northeast at a velocity of about forty-five miles an hour, and by 9 o’clock it had reached the climax, the velocity then being fully 100 miles. The vibration of the hotel was not unlike that of a boxcar in motion. I tried to sleep that night, but there was so much noise and confusion from the crashing of buildings that I didn’t get much rest.
STREET SIGHTS WERE APPALLING.
“I arose early Sunday morning. The sights in the streets were simply appalling. The water on Tremont street had lowered some eight feet from the high water mark, leaving the pavement clear from two blocks north and six or seven blocks south of the Tremont Hotel. The streets were full of debris, the wires were all down and the buildings were in a very much damaged condition. Every building in the business district was damaged to some extent but with one or two exceptions, and those, the Levy Building, corner of Tremont and Market, and the Union Depot, both of which remained intact and went through the storm without a scratch.
“The refugees came pouring down into the heart of the city, many of them had but little clothing, and scores of them were almost naked.
“They were homeless without food or drink, a great many had lost their all and were really in destitute circumstances. Mayor Jones issued a call for a mass meeting, which was held Sunday morning at 9 o’clock and was attended by a large number of prominent citizens. Steps were taken to furnish provisions and relieve the suffering of the refugees and to bury the dead.