San Francisco During the Eventful Days of April, 1906 | Page 5

the usual method was to drag a trunk, which made a
harsh, scraping noise on the sidewalk. I overtook a man dragging a
trunk with a valise on the top which kept frequently falling off. As I
approached him I took the valise in my hand and with the other took
hold of the rope and helped him drag the heavy trunk. As we were
strangers, I am sure that he at first took me for a thief who intended to
steal the valise. I at once entered into conversation with him, and from
his manner later on I think he changed his mind, for when I left him a
few blocks away he was hearty in his thanks.
While passing the Knickerbocker Hotel, on Van Ness Avenue, I saw a
party of ladies and an elderly gentleman. They were very much excited
and were hesitating about returning to their rooms for their personal
effects. I stopped and assured them that they had plenty of time to go
and return as many times as they wished, as the fire would not reach
Van Ness Avenue for at least five hours. It did not reach there for
thirteen hours. I think I succeeded in quieting them, at least for a time.
When I arrived at Sacramento Street and Van Ness Avenue I saw a
woman tugging at a trunk which had caught on the car-track, and I
helped her release it. From the speed at which the fire was traveling I
judged that it could not reach that spot in many hours, I advised her, as
she was safe, not to over-exert herself, but to take frequent rests. She
would not take my advice and I was obliged to leave her.
The throng of moving people, men and women with babies and bird
cages, and everything which they held most valuable on earth, began
early Wednesday morning and continued until the afternoon of
Thursday. Early Thursday morning Mr. Wilcox, with his mother and
sister, and Mrs. Hicks and daughter left our house and were able to
cross to Oakland, where they got a train for Los Angeles. Dr. and Mrs.
Whitney went to a friend's house. Early in the morning I went over to
the California-Street power-house and had a talk with Superintendent
Harris. He said that he had run out 20 cars, but as the water was shut
off and very low in the boilers, it was not safe to get up steam, and he
was unable to get horses to haul away the cars; so nothing could be
done but await the result, which was that every car in the house and
those in the street, some of them eight blocks away, 52 in number, were
all burned. Not one was left. I came back to 1801 Van Ness Avenue.
The wind was light but was from the northwest. At 9 A. M. I sent in my

son's automobile my personal clothing, silverware, bedding, and linen
to Mrs. Oxnard's, 2104 Broadway, and at 10:30 I had the rugs and some
other things ready, and he took them to the Presidio. Matters about this
time began to be rather wild. Van Ness Avenue was filled with people,
all pale and earnest, every one loaded with bundles and dragging
valises or trunks.
We concluded that it was best for Mrs. Winslow and the children to
leave the city; so my son with his automobile took them to Burlingame.
He had but little gasoline in his machine, and it was very doubtful if he
had enough to make the run there and return. Not a drop could be
obtained in the city. He learned that it might be obtained at the
Washington-Street police station, so applied for some, but could get
none, and barely escaped the appropriation of his machine by the police,
by saying that he was preparing to take out of the city a load of women
and children, and starting up suddenly and getting out of their reach. So,
with the children, Mrs. Winslow, and a few articles of apparel hastily
gathered together, he, by a circuitous and zigzag route, out of the city,
made the trip and landed them safely in Burlingame at 4 o'clock. They
could get no accommodation at the club, so they accepted the
hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Coleman in a tent, and the next
morning (Friday) went to Mr. and Mrs. Will Tevis's. Their kitchen
chimney had not fallen, which made it possible to have cooking in the
house, and as they had wells, the men put the pumps in order; so they
had the luxury of a bath. When she left San Francisco she expected her
own house and mine would certainly be burned. So, with neither
telephone, telegraph, nor mail, she