San Francisco During the Eventful Days of April, 1906 | Page 9

8 A. M. Friday, I saw by the smoke that three large
fires were burning at North Beach, in the direction of the Union-Street
engine-house, from my house.
I afterwards walked down into the business part of the city. The streets
in many places were filled with debris - in some places on Kearny and
Montgomery streets to the depth of four feet in the middle of the street
and much greater depth on the sidewalk. The track and slot rail of the
California Street R. R. were badly bent and twisted in many places. The
pavement in numberless places was cracked and scaled. A very few
people were to be seen at that time among the ruins, which added much

to the general gloom of the situation. I found it then, and ever since,
very difficult to locate myself when wandering in the ruins and in the
rebuilt district, as all the old landmarks are gone and the only guide
often is a prominent ruin in the distance. As there were no cars running
in the burnt district, I found my automobile very useful although the
rough streets filled with all manner of debris, punctured the tires too
frequently.
The water supply in our house was gone, as was also the gas and
electric light. The only light we could use was candle-light, and that
only until 9 P. M.. The city authorities issued an order that no fires
could be built in any house until the chimneys were fully rebuilt and
inspected by an officer. The water we used was brought by my son in a
wash-boiler in his automobile. He got it out near the Park. People all
cooked in improvised kitchens made in the street. As we were
prohibited from making fires in the house, I improvised a kitchen on
the street. I found some pieces of board which were blown into the
street and partially covered with brick and stone, from St. Luke's
Church and with some portieres from the house constructed a rude
shelter, and put a laundry stove in it, so we could make coffee, stew,
and fry after a fashion. Some people set up a cooking stove, many set
up two rows of bricks, with a piece of sheet iron laid across. Our
door-bell was rung several evenings, and we were ordered to "put out
that light."
About noon on the 20th the blocks between Pacific and Filbert were on
fire at Jones Street, and the fire was again threatening Van Ness
Avenue, but several engines were pumping, from one to another,
saltwater from Black Point and had a stream on the west side of Van
Ness until it was saved.
While the fire was threatening, I went up to my daughter's (Mrs.
Oxnard's) and told the servants to get things ready to take out. I would
go back home, and if it crossed Van Ness I would return, but if I did
not return in fifteen minutes they might consider the danger over. It did
not cross. While this pumping was going on, and when the fire had
approached the east side of Van Ness Avenue, one of the engines in the
line suddenly stopped. This was a critical moment, but the firemen
were equal to the emergency, and they uncoupled the engine which was
playing on the houses, and remembering that the earthquake had

disrupted and choked up the sewer, thereby damming up the outlet, and
in fact creating a cistern, they put the suction down the manhole and
continued playing on the fire, and saved the buildings on the north side.
I tried to get the names of the foreman and men who had the presence
of mind and cool judgment, but was unable to do so. This ended the
conflagration; but for three nights after there were fires from
smouldering timbers and slow-burning debris, sufficient to light up my
room so that I could see to read. I was still in fear of a fire breaking out
in the unburnt district west of Van Ness Avenue, and as there was no
water in the pipes we would be as helpless as ever. This gave much
anxiety during the two weeks following the calamity.
When night came on the evening of the 19th, the parks and the Presidio
were filled with frightened people, old and young. Thousands left their
homes in the (which afterwards proved to be) unburned district, and
sought shelter, as stated, in the parks and streets in the open air. Mr.
and Mrs. Dr. J. W. Keeney and family left their home at 2222 Clay
Street, and remained on Lafayette Square in the open air for two days
and nights, with hundreds of others, who feared another earthquake and
the conflagration.
The afternoon after the fire had exhausted