On Monday there were deaths from hunger and exposure, and the list swelled rapidly. People were living as best they could—in the ruins of their homes, in hotels, in schoolhouses, in railway stations, in churches, in the streets by the side of their beloved dead.
So great was the desolation one could not imagine a more sorrowful place. Street cars were not running; no trains could reach the town; only sad-eyed men and women walked about the streets; the dead and wounded monopolized the attention of those capable of doing anything whatever, and the city was at the mercy of thieves and ruffians.
All the fine churches were in ruins.
From Tremont to P street, thence to the beach, not a vestige of a residence was to be seen.
In the business section of the city the water was from three to ten feet deep in stores, and stocks of all kinds, including foodstuffs, were total losses. It was a common spectacle—that of inhabitants of the fated city wandering around in a forsaken and forlorn way, indifferent to everything around them and paying no attention to inquiries of friends and relatives.
God forbid that such scenes are enacted again in this country.
It was thought the vengeance of the fates had been visited in its most appalling shape upon the place which had unwittingly incurred its wrath.
It was fortunate after all, however, that those compelled to endure such trials were temporarily deprived of their understanding; were so stunned that they could not appreciate the enormity of the punishment.
The first loss of life reported was at Rietter’s saloon, in the Strand, where three of the most prominent citizens of the town—Stanley G. Spencer, Charles Kellner and Richard Lord—lost their lives and many others were maimed and imprisoned. These three were sitting at a table on the first floor Saturday night, making light of the danger, when the roof suddenly caved in and came down with a crash, killing them. Those in the lower part of the building escaped with their lives in a miraculous manner, as the falling roof and flooring caught on the bar, enabling the people standing near it to crawl under the debris. It required several hours of hard work to get them out. The negro waiter who was sent for a doctor was drowned at Strand and Twenty-first streets, his body being found a short time afterward.
Fully 700 people were congregated at the city hall, most of them more or less injured in various ways. One man from Lucas Terrace reported the loss of fifty lives in the building from which he escaped. He himself was severely injured about the head.