“The story that will be told when this mountain of ruins is removed may multiply the horrors of the fearful situation. As usual in great calamities the people are dazed and speak of their losses with an unnatural calmness that would astonish those who do not understand it.
“I do believe there is danger of an epidemic. But the nervous strain upon the people, as they come to realize their condition may be nearly as fatal. They talk of friends that are gone with tearless eyes, making no allusion to the loss of property.
“A professional gentleman who called upon me this afternoon, a gentleman of splendid human sympathies and refinement, wore a soiled black flannel shirt, without a coat, and in apologizing for his appearance said in the most casual, light-hearted way: ‘Excuse my appearance: I have just come in from burying the dead.’
“But these people will break down under this strain, and the Red Cross is glad of the force of strong, competent workers which it has brought to its relief.
“Portions of the business part of the city escaped the greatest severity of the storm and are left partially intact. Thus it is possible to purchase here nearly all the supplies that may be wanting. Still, the Galveston merchants should be given the benefit of home demands.
“Mayor Jones has offered to the Red Cross as headquarters the best building at his disposal. Relief is coming as rapidly as the crippled transportation facilities will admit. No one need fear, after seeing the brave and manly way in which these people are helping themselves, that too much outside aid will be given.”
Reported dead several times, their obituaries printed in Galveston and Houston, Peter Boss, wife and son, formerly of Chicago, were found, after having passed through a most thrilling experience.
TRIED TO ESCAPE WITH HER MONEY.
Mrs. Boss’ story of her experience in the disaster was a thrilling one. With her husband and son she was seated at supper in her home on Twelfth street when the storm broke. She seized a handkerchief containing $2000 from a bureau, and, placing it in her bosom, went with her husband and the son to the second story.
There they remained until the water reached them and they leaped into the darkness and the storm. They lit on a wooden cistern upon which they rode the entire night, clinging with one hand to the top of the cistern. Several times Mrs. Boss lost her hold and fell back into the water, only to be drawn up again by her son. Timbers crashed against their queer boat, people on all sides of them were crushed to death or drawn into the whirling waters, but with grim perseverance the Boss family held on and rode the night out.