“Between 5 and 6 o’clock the wind became almost due east and increased in violence. The debris fairly flew past, so rapid had the tide become. At twenty minutes to 6 o’clock (I am exact because I noticed my large clock had stopped, and wound it up and set it by my watch) there was a marked increase in the violence of the wind. I went to a west window to watch a fence I had been using as a marker on the tide, and while I was looking, I saw the tide suddenly rise fully four feet at one bound. In a few minutes several houses on the south side of P½, between Twenty-fifth and Twenty-sixth, went to pieces and floated away, and the debris from a number of large buildings began to float past from the east.
THE ROAR WAS AWFUL.
“It was then getting dark very rapidly. I turned on my lamps, but, as I had anticipated, there was no electricity. I had found a candle and lit that, then I thought I had best save it, so I blew it out, got a comfortable arm-chair and made myself as comfortable as possible. Being entirely alone, with no responsibility on me, I felt satisfied and very complacent, for I was fool enough not to be the least afraid of wind or water.
“About 7.30 o’clock I heard heavy thumping against the east side of my house, and concluded it was downstairs in one of the lower bed rooms. I lit the candle and went to the stairs, and found the water was very nearly up to the top of them. I put the candle down, went to the front door and opened it. In a second I was blown back into the hall. I eased myself along the east side, caught the door knob, then the side of the door on the gallery and drew myself out far enough to catch hold of a blind, and, clinging with both hands, I drew myself out on the gallery and stood there. The scene was the grandest I ever witnessed. It was impossible to face the wind, which had now increased to fully 100 miles an hour, and drove sheets of spray and rain, which were blinding.
“The roar was something awful. I could see to the right and, to the left, and, so far as I could see, only my house and that of my next door neighbor, Mr. Youens, were left standing. All the others were gone, and we were left practically out in the Gulf of Mexico. About two minutes after I got on the gallery, I saw Mr. Youens’ house begin to move forward. It turned partly around and then seemed to hang as if suspended. Suddenly the wind switched to the south by east, and increased in violence. Mr. Youens’ house rose like a huge steamboat, was swept back and suddenly disappeared. I knew that he had his family with him, his wife, son and two daughters, and my feelings were indescribable as I saw them go.
POSTS BLOWN AWAY LIKE STRAWS.
“The new position of the wind and its increased violence caused a sudden rise in the water, and at one bound it reached my second-story and poured in my door, which was exactly thirty-one feet above the level of the street. The wind again increased. It did not come in gusts, but was more like the steady downpour of Niagara than anything I can think of. One of the front posts on my gallery blew out, split my head open and mashed my shoulder badly. I was knocked insensible for a moment, but pulled myself together and hung on.
“The constant shaking and jarring had loosened the front door facing, and I saw I could tear it loose from the top when the crash came, so I kept hold of it all the time. I had outlined a plan of campaign from the first and carried it out to the letter. The other posts and railing of the gallery blew away like straws. The top of the gallery was lifted up and disappeared over the top of the house. The gallery floated away, and, with one foot inside the door, I was left hanging against the front of the house. It was an easy thing to stay there, for the wind held me as firmly as if I had been screwed to the house.
“It is hard to believe, but still it is true. A little after 8 o’clock the wind actually increased in violence. I am confident I do not exaggerate one bit when I say it was blowing fully 125 miles an hour. I could see into the hall, and saw a beautiful phenomenon when the wind was at its height. Whether from phosphorescence of the sea water or from electricity generated by the high wind, I can’t say, but, from whatever cause it was, the drops of rain became luminous as they struck the wall, and it looked like a display of miniature fireworks. The luminous particles were about the size of a pin head, though one ball about half as large as a boy’s marble, formed on the door facing and slowly slipped down into the water.