San Francisco During the Eventful Days of April, 1906 | Page 7

steep street, and when
within one hundred feet of Gough Street I rested on a doorstep. I had
not been there for more than two minutes before a soldier on the
opposite side of the street leveled his gun and cried out, "Get out of that
old man, and go up on to Gough Street." As he had a loaded gun, and
appeared very important, I quickly obeyed his polite order. As I
reluctantly ascended Clay Street in charge of the soldier, I held back
long enough to see the steeple of the Presbyterian Church fall. I stayed
at Gough Street a while, looking down upon my house, expecting every
minute to see the flames coming out of it. I watched from Gough Street
with much anxiety, and made up my mind that I would see if I could
not get back into my house, for I believed I could save it. The heat was
so intense that it had driven the guards away from Van Ness Avenue;
so, seeing no one near, I quietly slipped down the north side of
Washington Street to Franklin. As no one was around there, I continued
to Washington and Van Ness and, putting up my coat-collar and
protecting the side of my face with my hat, I ran along Van Ness to my
front door and quickly got into the house again at 5:40, being kept out
fifty-five minutes. My clothing got very hot but was not scorched. This
I did at a great risk of my life, for these soldiers were very arrogant and
consequential at having a little brief authority, and I was afraid they
would not hesitate to shoot on slight provocation. I felt provoked and
disgusted that I had to take such a risk to enter my own house. When I
returned, Mr. Merrill's house had been dynamited, and the two

churches, St. Luke's and the First Presbyterian, the Bradbury house at
the corner of Van Ness and California Street, and the Knickerbocker
Hotel adjoining, and the Gunn house, corner of Clay and Franklin, had
shared the same fate.
On getting into my house again, I saw that the Neustadter house, at the
corner of Sacramento and Van Ness, was half-consumed, but it had not
set on fire the Spreckels residence, and as at this time Mr. Merrill's
house, which had been dynamited the second time, was so demolished,
I felt that I could consider that my house had passed the critical time,
for I hoped that Mr. Merrill's house in burning would not endanger the
west side of Van Ness.
But now a new danger threatened. The range of blocks from the north
side of Washington Street to the south side of Jackson were on fire at
Hyde Street, and the flames coming toward Van Ness Avenue, with the
possibility of crossing. The Spreckels stable on Sacramento and also
the houses back of the Neustadter residence were now on fire. This, I
knew, would set fire to the three Gorovan cottages, two other two-story
houses, and the dynamited house of Mr. Gunn, all fronting on Clay
Street, between Van Ness and Franklin. So I watched from my front
window, the fire approach Van Ness between Washington and Jackson,
then going to my back window to see the threatened danger from Clay
Street. The Wenban residence, at the corner of Jackson and Van Ness,
was well on fire at 6:15; at 6:55 it fell in. The Clay-Street danger began
at about 7:30 P. M.. At 8:15 the whole front as here described was
blazing and at its full height. My windows were so hot that I could not
bear my hand on them. I opened one and felt the woodwork, which was
equally hot. I had buckets of water in the front and rear rooms, with an
improvised swab, made by tying up a feather duster, ready to put out
any small fire which would be within my reach. I watched the situation
for an hour, and as the flames died down a little I had hope, and at 10 P.
M. I felt satisfied that it would not cross Van Ness Avenue, and neither
would it cross Clay Street. At this time, as the heat had somewhat
subsided, I ventured out, and saw a small flame, about as large as my
two hands, just starting on the tower of Mrs. Schwabacher's house,
which is next to mine on Clay Street. A very few people were around.
James Walton of the Twenty-eighth Coast Artillery, was there, also C.
C. Jones, of 2176 Fulton Street, and David Miller Ferguson, of Oakland.

I said I would give any man ten dollars who would go up and put out
that fire. They went into the house with a can of water, climbed the
stairs