“The wind at 125 miles an hour is something awful. I could neither hear nor see when it was at its height and it was difficult to breathe. I am nearly six feet in height and estimating the surface of my body exposed to the wind at five square feet, my body sustained at that time a pressure of 390 pounds. I began to think my house would never go. The wind acted as if it thought so, too, for it got harder and harder and harder until finally I felt the house yielding. I took a firm hold of my door facing, placed both feet against the house, exerted my full strength, tore the facing loose and as the house went kicked myself as far away from it as possible, so as to avoid sunken debris rising to the surface.
“The house rose out of the water several feet, was caught by the wind and whisked away like a railway train and I was left in perfect security, free from all floating timber or debris, to follow more slowly. The surface of the water was almost flat. The wind beat it down so that there was not even the suspicion of a wave.
“The current impelled by the wind was terrific. Almost before I had felt I had fairly started I was over the Gartenverein, four blocks away. The next moment I was at the corner of the convent. Here I got in a big whirlpool and caught up with a lot of debris. I was carried round and round until I lost my bearings completely and was then floated off (as I found afterwards) to the northwest, finally landing in the middle of the street at Thirty-fourth and M ½, or fifteen blocks from where I started.
“It was very dark, but I could see the tops of some houses barely above the water; could see others totally wrecked and others half submerged. I knew it was not so very late and as I could not see a light or hear a human soul I concluded that the whole of that part of the town had been destroyed and that I was the only survivor. For eight hours I clung to my board, which had found a good resting place, and during the whole time I did not hear a human voice except that of a woman in the distance calling for help.
NEARLY FROZEN TO DEATH.
“The wind beat the rain on me and nearly froze me to death. I was never so cold in my life. I think I had at least a dozen good hard chills before the water fell sufficiently for me to wade to a house half a block away, a little elevated cottage of two rooms in which fifteen or twenty colored people, who forgot their own misery when they saw me bareheaded, covered with blood and shaking with cold. They pulled me in out of the rain, wrapped some half dry clothes about my shoulders to get warmth in my body and for the moment forgot their own misery.
“When daylight came two of the men piloted me to town, where I met a friend whose room had escaped destruction. He took me there, sent for a doctor, had my wounds dressed and by 9 o’clock I was myself again and barring weakness from loss of blood was as well as ever.
“In conclusion, I desire to say this of the storm. In my opinion it began south of Cuba, developed fully near Yucatan, came to the northwest, landed west of Galveston, its center passing south of Galveston between 6 and 7 o’clock Saturday evening, and that it was from 200 to 300 miles in diameter. It passed to the northeast, going out of the United States over the great lakes through Canada and died out in the far North Atlantic. I have seen absolutely no report of this storm, but this is my conclusion from my observation.”
Said a citizen of Galveston: “It is not all tears in Galveston, not all sorrow. Hearts bowed down with grief are not heavy all the time, and there are smiles and good cheer and hearty hand shakes with it all. Here is a sample of the conversation:
“‘Hello, Bill, I’m glad to see you alive!’