FLORIDA HORROR.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 234, 3 October 1935, Page 18

FLORIDA HORROR.

TERRIFIC STORM. DEATH ROLL EXCEEDS 100. SURVIVORS' VIVH» STORY. (From Our Own Correspondent.) SAN" .FRANCISCO, Sept. 11. Talcs of liorror were narrated by survivors of tlio terrific hurricane which lasliecl the Florida coast and caused incalculable loss of life and damage to property on a wide scale. Dr. Lnsser Alexander, medical officer at Camp No. 1 at Snake Creek, who was taken to Miami suffering from numerous cuts, 'bruises and abrasions, said the storm stalled in fury at 8 p.m. "A lot of people were washed away and others left dead after the storm passed," ho said. '"One man I talked with counted 80 dead persons at this camp, and the total was supposed to be from 125 to 150. Every building was razed, and at one time the tide rose entirely over the island. I was at Snake Creek hotel, which was used, as a, hospital. This collapsed about 10 p.m., with many persons under the ruins. There were about 40 patients in this building, about hah" women and children. Out of this number there were only seven men and three or four of the women and children saved.

"When the building toppled over, I was able to walk out through a hole in the wall into about three or four feet of water carrying floating timbers and debris. The wind was about 50 or l>o miles an hour and carried flying timbers that caused most of the casualties.

"With the aid of a flashlight I made my way in the direction of the railway grade, which was the highest point. I reached a high bank covered with grass after walking about 250 yards and being knocked down several times by flying timbers. I finally reached a rock wall about four feet high with a party of other men. and huddled there for 20 or 30 minutes. Dug Into Ground. "When we found the water still rising, we made our way to the railway track, and, placing ourselves behind the grade, wo dug holes into the earth under the : cross-ties, to protect our heads from the flying debris," he continued. "This was the only way we could find to keep our brains from being crushed out. We stayed on the railway track until 3 a.m.. as that was the only point above water

"At daybreak on Tuesday we found a tank full of water which offered refuge from the wind, and a number of others built a fire and made coffee for the sick and injured. There we remained until 1 later in the afternoon, .when we were rescued' through; the heroism of Buck Wright and several others, who took us across Snake Creek in a row boat, one •at a time. We then were placed on trucks and brought to the mainland. One of those killed in the collapse oi the Snake Creek hotel was Dr. E. C. Main, medical director of the camp, who lost his life before my eyes." A former ahny aviator, Joseph Factsau, timekeeper at Camp No. 5, saw his wife, two daughters and two grandchildren killed, after reaching Camp No. 1 seeking safety. He said he doubted if anyone at Camp 5 could have survived because of the lack of shelter. "Upon hearing the storm warning," Factsau said, "I started out in a car from my home, halfway from Camps 5 and 3, and my wife, Frieda, and my two daughters, .Marie Madsen, 18 years of age, and Dorothy Vester, 16. We were accompanied, by my two grandchildren, Kav Madsen; (2J) and Dorothy Vester (one). Washed Into Surf. "After travelling through increasing winds and-over wreckage-strewn roads for 18 miles on a flat tyre, we reached Camp No.» 1. The building Ave were placed in lasted only an hour. I tried to make a.human chain from the building to the railway track to get all the women and, children to safety, but I was washed out into the gulf by a high wave. I swam back as quickly as I could and reached shore just as the hospital collapsed. I heard my wife calling my name, but I was not able to get to her in time. They were killed under'thc ruins. It. Baker, from Camp 5, who also took refuge at Camp 1", was killed. Another woman that I know was killed, although I succeeded in' rescuing her child from the waves. The survivorsthen took refuge behind the tank car * until rescuers arrived." Joseph M. Lydon, another Camp No. 1 veteran, in short sentences punctuated by gasps of pain, told liis story. '*lt s like this," lie said. "We didn't know it was going to hit us like that. Y\e thought the train would get there in time. I was eating in one of ■'the cabins about 5 o'clock, I guess. We,heard the wind, and there were .tilings flying through the air, but we thought we would be all right till the train got there. Suddenly the wind tipped the whole cabin over —carried everything out to sea. I got washed away from the- cabin somehow. The waves were terrible big things—landed on a rcef--I guess that's what cut me up so much. .At Jackson Memorial Hospital, men with broken limbs and cut faces lay on hastilv improvised cots in the corridois and wards. Some of them were stunned, barely conscious of fractures and cuts others were in oxygen tent^—stiil others twisted their feet in pa;n as harried nurses and doctors applied hrst aid. / Warning Received, j ■ \ There the first clear story of the relief train was obtained from Charles Van Yechten. "You cannot imagine how sudden and how awful it was," he said. At noon we were told to expect a; storm_ maybe not a bad one —but that a train would arrive in time to take us out. We packed up in the afternoon and assembled, reads' to leave —but the stoim hit us before we got there. We were told the train would get there 4 p.m.—-and told to get ready to leave. We waited and the storm got worse and worse. There was timber flying through the air and the water got higher. When it seemed like the whole camp was going to be washed away, we saw the train coming, Soiulq of the camp men flagged it—l think they got on—but the train did not stop to pick any of us up. It went on and we never saw it again. It was like something that just could not have happened—but did. There was a big wall of water—l3ft high—2oft, maybe. It swept over those sharks and messed them up us if they were match l>nxe«. We huntr on the best way we could to the railway ties and trees, but most of us got washed against the reefs. "In the next bed lay Walter Wise, also from camp 1. He could talk only in whirtpcrs, broken up by uncontrollable sobs. I swain around—could not get very far—just kept myself and another guy up. Then a building washed on top of- us- 1 -had to let him go to

save myself—l saw him washed away oh, it was horrible. I tried to get us both out." Vivid Story of Gale. Jack Bell, who witnessed the havoc, said: "Down in the Keys this morning the sun shines serenely on the dead. A hurricane has come up from the south, whipped savagely at a few of old Mother Nature's pitifully weak human beings, gone on about its business—and hospitals are filled with broken bodies, dazed and uncomprehending survivors stare into nothingness, and stiff, blackened forms lay along the shattered roads to Windly and Matecumbe Keys. "They're bringing out the dead now— what they've found of them. All day yesterday, while Miamians rejoiced because the winds Avent elsewhere, battered survivors from the Keys straggled out of the underbrush and remains of wrecked houses. All Tuesday night a one-armed pilot of a little outboard ran back and forth through the dangerous tip of Windly, carrying the wounded veterans who had been in camp there. "A larger boat also arrived and carried nurses and medical supplies south. But it was the outboard pilots who saved the survivors of this storm. I talked to dozens of survivors and invariably they told of water —the winds were secondary with them—of water that crashed through the wrecks that had been their homes, carrying them awav in its swirling clutches, as they grasped desperately at a mattress, a floating timber, anything within reach, as they were swept from their moorings. And the veterans, they never had a chance. Caught In Bunkhouses. "At Camp No. 1, on Windly Island, they were caught in. the bunkhouses, which were as so much stacked wood when the wind struck with terrific force. Most of these fellows, they tell me, are the old bonus army marchers, sent down here to work, chiefly because the Government didn't know what else to do with them. I saw a big, powerful man, sitting upright on the road. He wore a blue denim ja-cket and overalls, nothing else. Beside Jiim sat a little Koy of about five, his hand wrapped in a great ungainly-, bandage, a ripped open. The man sat staring into space. 'What is your name?' I asked. He lifted his head and stared at me. 'Don't you remember your name?' I asked, trying to help him. Still he stared vacantly at me, saying nothing. "I Walked - away; Soon two other men came up to him. One. I knew, had been searching for his family. They began talking. 'I lost five—four of my babies and my wife,' said the man who had refused to talk to me. 'All mine are gone,' replied the searcher. 'I'm all alone—there's nothing left—nothing.' 'I lost my mother and my sister and my wife,' said the. third." * ' ' Scenes Aboard Liner. A typical account of scenes aboard the liner Dixie, driven on to a reef during the height of the hurricane, was given by. Miss Florence E. Steiler, of Sail Francisco: "It started to rain about, 10 o'clock .on Monday morning. At noon the ship started to pitch and the storm brojic in all its fury about 3 o'clock. We seemed to be in the teeth of a hurricane. At 4.30 the storm abated somewhat, but it broke anew in the next hour with , greater intensity. Then came a tremendous jar and terrific vibrations. We were all ordered to put on our lifebelts, and during the remainder of the night the ship swung from side .to side. The devastation was terrible. Iron windows and .doors went from under the weight of the heavy seas. The water was up to the bunks in the cabins. Men were compelled to roll up their trousers to their knees, while women sitting on their bunks had to raise their feet as the water flowed from one side of the stateroom to the other. I want to pay particular praise to the crew, which lived up to the highest traditions of the sea, and especially, to William S. Beltou, a steward. His efforts wero untiring in cheering up the passengers. He inspired at times a spirit of levity. There was no hysteria. We all sang. The death which seemed to face us was discussed freely. Fear seemed to be unknown. as we were all of the opinion we would finally be carried down."

Wearing lifebelts the passengers aboard the reef-trapped liner crowded the saloon and sang songs and played musical instruments during the height of the storm.