The Spirit of 1906 | Page 5

through the long hours I watched the intermittent
flashes, heard the noises and in the darkness went through the added
suffering of overstrained nerves.
A neighbor, J. F. D. Curtis, since dead, but at that time and for years
after the manager of the "Providence Washington Insurance Company,"
passed the silent watches of the night with me, each of us smoking
ourselves blind and watching - talking but little, although thinking and
feeling a whole lot. We were a mile from the fire, nevertheless it was so
light that a newspaper could easily have been read by its glow from the
time when the sun set on the ruins to the hour when it rose on the next

day of horror. Curtis, turning and pointing to the flaming city, inquired
in quiet tones if the California Insurance Company could pay the bill. I
replied that as a stockholder in the company, I felt that I was ruined and
I feared that the company would "go broke." He stated that he believed
the Providence Washington would weather the storm and if the worst
came to the worst with me, he would like to have me join him in the
management of the company he represented. It was a ray of sunshine. It
was a beacon of hope. It was like a life buoy thrown to a drowning man,
and I shall never forget the encouragement that came with his offer nor
the gratitude I felt, and, although subsequent events have shown that
my first fears were wrong, my gratitude endures to this day.
The night passed and while we were eating a cold breakfast, principally
composed of sandwiches, the man on horseback arrived again; this time,
however, with the glad tidings that the fire had been stopped at Van
Ness avenue and we could return to our homes. It was afterward
learned that the salvaging of the section of the city beyond Van Ness
avenue was due to the excellent work done by two salt water streams
pumped from the bay by tugs stationed at the foot of Van Ness avenue
and carried along by relays of fire engines. So intense and so furious
was the fire that while one set of firemen, their heads covered with
blankets, held the hose, the second stream was used to drench them,
also the engine. Further proof of the fierce and terrific heat was shown
in the circumstance that houses one hundred and twenty-five to one
hundred and thirty-five feet across the avenue had windows cracked
and paint blistered. The last grand heroic stand of the fire fighters was
made at the corner of Van Ness avenue and Vallejo streets.
A man was found with a wagon to cart our things back to the house and,
while we did not have much worldly wealth in our clothes, we were
prepared to pay liberally. Under the circumstances, when his modest
charge of two dollars was met we felt that he had earned it many times
and in addition, our gratitude. Arriving at the residence, we found the
sidewalks and the street in front of it three inches thick with ashes and
cinders. Now came the task of unearthing the trunks and with it came
the thought that had this section been entirely burned how difficult it
might have been to locate the place where they had been buried.
Necessity for action and to be up and doing was too strong, however, to
allow time for any such conjectures. There was too much going on to

dwell on post-mortems. That night the streets were patrolled by
marines from United States warships in the harbor, whom the
government had hurried to the scene of action with all promptness
possible.
No lights nor fires were permitted in houses. It was either retire at
sundown or retire in the dark. Whatever water was needed had to be
carried from the nearest well and even after the mains had been
restored to normal efficiency this practice was continued for fear that
the possibly broken sewers might contaminate or pollute the water. No
fires nor cooking were permitted in any building until every chimney
and flue had been passed upon by the authorities.
In order to obtain water it was necessary first to procure buckets, then
carry it from an old well in Lafayette Square, some dozen blocks away.
Baths were forgotten and shaving was a luxury. It entailed severe labor
to secure water with which to prepare the necessities of life and to
maintain a reasonable degree of personal cleanliness. In common with
every other citizen our stove was placed on the curb and this was our
kitchen and dining room for over six weeks. As there was no oven,
baking and roasting had to be dispensed with, boiling and frying being