Copyright USGenNet Inc., 2014 All Rights Reserved USGenNet Data Repository Please read USGenNet Copyright Statement on this page: Transcribed and submitted by Linda Talbott for the USGenNet Data Repository http://www.us-data.org/ =========================================================================== Formatted by USGenNet Data Repository Chief Archivist, Linda Talbott All of the above information must remain when copied or downloaded. =========================================================================== (Extracted records pertaining to the Great Lakes region) ANNUAL REPORT OF THE OPERATIONS OF the UNITED STATES LIFE-SAVING SERVICE for the FISCAL YEAR ENDING JUNE 30, 1883 WASHINGTON: GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1884 - 6 - DISTRICT SUPERINTENDENTS: Ninth District. - David P. Dobbins, Buffalo, New York Tenth District. - Jerome G. Kiah, Sand Beach, Michigan Eleventh District. - Nathaniel Robbins, Benton Harbor, Michigan --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - 47 - SERVICES OF CREWS AT THE WESTERN FLOODS IN 1883 The repetition of the Western river floods during the year, on a scale even more formidable than that of the year preceding, gave oc- casion for the services of life-saving crews at certain points--services which were broadly extra-official, and so marked in their extent and character as to merit special notice in the annual record. The swelling of the streams dates from almost the beginning of Feb- ruary. As early as the 3d of that month there was a sudden rise in the Grand River, near the mouth of which, or at the entrance of Fair- port Harbor, Lake Erie, the Fairport Station is situated. The action of heavy rains and consequent melting of snow, caused the ice in the river to break up and run down to the harbor mouth, where it was met by the solid ice in the lake, and formed a gorge, which soon after brought about a tremendous overflow. The cottages of three members of the Fairport crew were deeply flooded, and the men, with their families, had to seek safety and shelter at the station, which stood at a somewhat higher elevation near by, and in which the keeper (George F. Babcock) with his wife and three children were living at the time. The house which had thus become the refuge of eleven persons was in hardly better plight than the dwellings the refugees had left. Its lower floors were inundated, the harbor piers and beach being entirely submerged, and its occupants were kept busy staving off with boat-hooks the stream of ice- cakes, heavy timbers, logs, and drift-wood which were incessantly swept toward it by the strong river current, and threatened it with destruc- tion. Fortunately for those within, the danger was of comparatively short duration, the flood abating by the giving way of the gorge on the third day after it set in. About the same time the Cuyahoga River, running through Cleveland, Ohio, suffered a similar rise. At 5 o'clock in the morning of February 4th a policeman came to the Cleveland Station, where the keeper (C. C. Goodwin) and his family were residing, the station being closed for the season, and gave notice that the water was seven or eight feet deep in the region near the river side, known as Stone's Levee, two miles above the station, and that a number of poor families were al- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 48 - ready insulated in their houses by the flood, and could not get away. The keeper at once called his son, hunted up two river boatmen to as- sist, and loaded a clinker-boat upon a wagon which the policeman had thoughtfully brought with him for the purpose of taking the boat across the city. By 6 o'clock the party arrived at the scene of disaster. Gen- erally the river at Cleveland has high banks or bluffs, but at this par- ticular locality the banks are even lower than the river's level, and the water had therefore effected an inundation. The region is one of lumber-yards intersected by streets, in which are houses two stories in height, the lower stories being rented for offices and the upper to laborers in the yard. Here people, half clad, were floating around on lumber-piles in ten feet of water, and others were perched on the roofs or grouped at upper windows. A cold drizzling rain added to the general wretchedness. The boat was instantly launched on this distressful scene and the work of taking in men, women, and children began, and was con- tinued throughout the day in an incessant rain. The place was so blocked with dangerous floating debris or fixed obstructions, such as lumber loaded on cars, that it was almost unnavigable, and the keeper and his men had often to resort to the expedient of building bridges of planks from one lumber pile to another in order to effect the deliver- ance of the sufferers. The day was consumed in this laborious work, and thirty-seven persons were rescued. It was 6 o'clock in the evening be- fore the keeper and his men, wet through, cold, and famished, got back to the station. A few days later the general overflow had culminated in the great flood of the Ohio River, and Keeper Goodwin, with a volunteer crew of seven, all ex-surfmen, rendered signal service at Cincinnati. The Ma- sonic fraternity of that city had sent him a request for assistance, to which he manfully responded, and on February 15th, mustered his men, sent forward twelve small boats, mounted the surf-boat with its carriage on a platform car, and at 1 o'clock in the day started by special train from Cleveland for the scene of disaster, free transportation having been furnished him by the Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati and Indianapo- lis Railroad Company. The life-saving party arrived at Cincinnati the next day, February 16th, and after reporting to the Masonic committee, launched the surf-boat and rowed up through the flooded streets to the neighborhood of the Masonic Temple, where they found the fleet of boats Keeper Goodwin had sent forward. The point of greatest suffering was, it appears, less at Cincinnati than at Newport, Kentucky, on the op- posite side of the river. Here there were several hundred houses sub- merged, or partially so, and ten thousand persons in distress out of a population of near thirty thousand. The Masonic committee, among whom were several persons of official distinction, Mayor Horton, of Newport, being one, having had the life-saving crew placed under their direction, ordered them to this place; and Keeper Goodwin at once loaded up his fleet of boats with about a ton of provisions, and ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 49 - started on the work of succor, arriving at Newport at 1 o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. Before sunset about two hundred and fifty persons, imprisoned in the upper stories of their dwellings, had been supplied with provisions. The good work continued throughout the next day, February 17th, food being served out to about two hundred and thirty persons. On February 18th the life-saving men were re- enforced in their labors by a gallant crew of eight, divided into two boats, members of the Queen City Rowing Club, of Buffalo, who had vol- unteered from that city for the service, and placed themselves under the orders of the Masonic relief committee. The number of persons relieved that day by the life-saving crew was two hundred and fifty. On February 19 the weather came on cold and freezing over the mis- erable scene, and the crew distributed coal as well as provisions. The number of persons succored was two hundred and sixty. On February 20 the water began to fall at the rate of from one to two inches an hour. Fuel and provisions were distributed through the day to about two hundred and forty persons. The weather continued at freezing point. The next day, February 21, the water had fallen ten feet, and Mayor Hor- ton and the committee notified the crew that the need for their services was over, and receiving many thanks for their brave work they returned by the night express to Cleveland, where they arrived the next day, Feb- ruary 22, all of them pretty well worn out, and some of them quite sick with their unremitting toil and exposure, for the labors of each day had been complemented by police duty over the submerged district at night. The surf-boat shared in their dilapidation, its bottom planks being al- most chafed through by its constant rough attrition with submerged ruins and floating debris, and needing to be replaced with new. The number of persons succored through its agency during the five days' toil of the crew was over twelve hundred. It was at one time thought probable that more aid would be needed at Cincinnati, and upon application, this office gave authority to the mayor of the city of Sandusky to command the services of the Point Marblehead life-saving crew (Lake Erie, Ohio). Accordingly, on Feb- ruary 16, Keeper Clemons, who was in charge of the station, received a call by telegraph from the mayor to render service at Cincinnati, and immediately mustered his crew, then not on duty, as the station was closed for the season. A team was procured and the surf-boat hauled over to Sandusky Bay, which was solidly frozen over. The boat was then loaded up on a sleigh and shoved across the ice by the keeper and his seven men, in a pouring rain. From the station to the other side of the bay was a distance of fully six miles. The start was made at a quarter past 6 o'clock in the evening, and continued across the dark ice, over which the rain was sheeting, until 9 o'clock, nearly three hours later, when the crew arrived at Sandusky, and reported to the may-or. They remained waiting under orders until the next day, February 17, when they received word from the mayor that their services would not, after ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 50 - all, be required at Cincinnati, and loading up their boat again upon the sleigh, they again pushed it before them across the ice-bound bay, this time in the face of a strong northwest wind, and arrived at the station at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The misery and horror of the flood were felt in their fullness at Louisville, where nine miles of river front were submerged on both sides of the stream, Jeffersonville, New Albany, Portland, and Shippingport laid under water; hundreds of houses overturned, swept away and broken to fragments, and thousands of people left distitute and homeless. It will be remembered that Louisville is the location of the famous river station at the Falls of the Ohio, the life-saving exploits of whose crew, under the leadership of Keeper William M Devan, have become of wide repute throughout the country. On this occasion they found, even more than at the flood of the year preceding, full scope for their activity. The station was visited at the height of the overflow by Superintendent Dobbins, who was in charge of the Ninth Life-Saving District, in which it is situated. It is constructed so as to float and be secured at one point or another - a house built upon a barge - and the superintendent upon his arrival found it moored head and stern to a large brick block on top of the levee between Third and Fourth streets, in sixteen and eighteen feet of water, the lower story of the block be- ing completely submerged, and the tops of the street lamp-posts in front being just visible. Keeper Devan had been appointed by the mayor of the city and several relief committees to take charge of the distribution of supplies and command the organized effort for assistance of all kinds, and the station had been made the headquarters of general suc- cor. It presented at that time more the appearance of a country store than of a life-saving station. Beds, bedding, furniture, clothing, pro- visions, and groceries of all kinds were piled up on the floor in as- sorted heaps ready for shipment to the sufferers. City and State of- ficials came and went, intermingling with the station men and their assistants. Boats were constantly going from the station laden with bread, meat, groceries, and other stores, and as constantly arriving in its vicinity freighted with groups of wretched creatures and such rem- nants of their household goods as the flood had spared. The scene of operations was well-nigh indescribable. All the lower part of the city, along the whole river front, stood in water, with canals for streets. In this region were lumber-yards, paper-mills, oil- works, iron-works, glass-works, tobacco-works, pork-houses, planing- mills, all sorts of work-shops and manufactories, their lower stories buried in the turbid flood, some of them in a state of partial wreck, and now and then one in ruin. Beyond was a wide and melancholy waste of muddy yellow waves, irregularly dotted here and there with houses half submerged and the tops of trees. The whole scene was one of abject de- solation and destruction. On the surface of the dismal flood tumbled the wrecks of overturned houses, great lumps of ice, masses of floating lumber, arti- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 51 - cles of furniture, debris of all kinds, surging incessantly down toward the chute, which was now undistinguishable from the stream, there being forty-two feet of water on the falls. At night this expanse was the haunt of river thieves, who prowled around in boats through the darkness, and broke through the roofs of any dwellings abandoned by their inmates. The station supply-boats, which did duty upon it by day in conveying fuel and provisions to the still in habited houses, half buried by the overflow, patrolled it, with the city police at night, in all directions, far and near, as a guard. In the city proper, apart from the marginal or suburban districts, which had become the haunt of these picaroons, the danger was no less to life than to proper- ty. At the height of the season of disaster the gas-works had been flooded, and in the total darkness which enveloped the nocturnal streets, ruffians, armed with sand-bag clubs, lurked on the watch for belated wayfarers. Every form of anxiety and apprehension seemed let loose, and wretchedness pervaded daily life like an atmosphere. The river had begun to rise on the 9th of February and reached the danger line on the 11th. On the latter date the entire part of the city known as Shippingport was submerged, the water had heavily backed up into the suburb called Portland, and all the lower parts of the town along the river front were flooded. Already a large number of mills, factories, distilleries, and work-shops of various kinds had been filled to their second stories and compelled to suspend operations, thus throw- ing a multitude of people out of employment. A great many families had removed, and others were preparing to do so. Keeper Devan and his men were in full blast, and, incited by their example, a host of skiffs were out on the river rendering assistance. The station had been re- moved to a safer mooring, and the keeper and crew worked with all their energy in rescuing people and saving property from submerged or breaking houses. About a thousand dollars' worth of household effects were saved that day by their efforts. At noon word came to the station that a large raft of logs, worth $2,000, had broken lose from its moorings some two miles up the river, and was drifting away to destruction. Keeper Devan put a line into his second boat, the READY, rowed away with his men, and coming up with the raft, got the line fast to it, checked its headway by mooring it to a moored coal-barge, and shortly after had it safely brought to shore and delivered to its owner. The remainder of the day was spent in assisting people to escape from their endangered dwellings and removing their household property. At night the crew boated, in alternate watches, over the flooded district, doing police duty. The next day, February 12, was spent by the station men in remov- ing families and their household goods to places of safety. The river continued to rise steadily, and there were thirty-six feet of water on the falls. In anticipation of being flooded, Keeper Devan moved his family further up town. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 52 - The climax of disaster came on the evening of this day. The upper river district of the city, known generally as the Point, is a low val- ley, full of houses, protected from possible inundation by a huge dam or levee, forty feet thick, and two thousand feet long. Beyond this dam was an immense extent of water, sixty feet deep, which had for days been rising gradually, inch by inch. It had now reached the level of the embankment, over which it had spilled all day in a thin sheet, increas- ing by 7 o'clock in the evening to a heavy pour, so that by 9 o'clock five or six inches of water ran over the streets of the neighborhood. At this rate of overflow no damage was likely to ensue, and the only real danger was in the possibility of the dam giving way. Although its great strength encouraged the hope and belief that it would withstand the heavy strain upon it, the chance of its yielding was entertained, and all the afternoon the police were busy notifying the people in the neighborhood to move. Many had gone, but most of them, being poor, and having really nowhere to go, had remained in the trust that all would be well with them. They now formed part of the great crowd which all the evening stood watching the dam by the light of numerous bonfires. At nearly 10 o'clock an anxious party, among which were the mayor, the city engineer, and several other officials, made part of the throng, but soon retired, satisfied that no break in the embankment was then threatened. Keeper Devan and Boatman Farrell had come down with them in the station boat Reckless, but remained after they had left, standing on the levee, the keeper certain, on his part, that mischief was impending. The monotonous noise of the falling water continued, and the crowd gradually thinned off, until, at nearly 11 o'clock, the place was quite deserted. The keeper and his man remained almost solitary, watching, by the light of the dying bonfires, the array of lonely houses, in every one of which a light was burning, and the flood pouring in a broad cascade over the lower section of the dam. Suddenly, with a heart shaking roar, the embankment was cloven and the pent water burst through in a torrent. The valley was in- stantly overswept, and amidst the thunder of the flood there was heard the crashing of timbers and a confusion of cries and screams, while light after light went out quickly, leaving the scene in darkness. It was but the work of a minute for the keeper and Boatman Farrell to haul the long life-boat across the embankment and launch it into the foaming swash of the valley, following the shrieks for help. As the boat dashed along, dangerously steered through a wild riff-raff of rushing debris, the rowers saw fences, shanties, sheds, and outhouses fly up from their fastenings on every side and whirl away to ruin. Now and then small houses went past with mewing cats arching on their roofs, and several times raft-like surfaces, such as plank walks or sections of flooring, were seen thickly covered and all alive with rats. A two-story house, from whence the nearest screams proceeded, was soon reached, and a man and his wife and five children, three of them very small, were ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 53 - taken from the upper windows and quickly landed. The boat then shot back to two houses in succession, rescuing a woman from each. Lights now began to twinkle out on the roofs and upper stories over the flood, showing that the people were making their way aloft to be saved or save themselves. A hundred screams rent the air in all directions. Keeper Devan and Boatman Farrell still kept racing to and fro, making rescues. The other station-boat, the Ready, came down before long and joined in the work. The engine men had been telephoned for and also responded, and soon twenty boats were speeding to and fro delivering the victims. Huge bonfires sprang up in all directions beyond the flooded space, greatly aiding the work of rescue, and to these fires the drenched and streaming people were carried as soon as landed. They could be seen in miserable, shivering groups around the flames, many of them only half clad. No words could describe the confusion, the horror, the anguish of the scene. Probably its most fearful element was the uncertainty of families as to the fate of their respective members, separated in the rude divisions incident to prompt rescue. In many cases mothers could be seen running about in distraction looking for their children. Through all the miserable hurly-burly the station boats and the coadjutors in rescue toiled steadily on, racing hither and thither through the frothing torrent, and by 1 o'clock every one in danger had been brought ashore. Half an hour later the water behind the embankment had got down to the level of the river and the danger of further destruction was over. The main part of the district now presented the aspect of six hundred acres of water, with the top of a house sticking up here and there. Hundreds of dwellings had been swept away and broken to fragments; others had been turned over, and still others lifted from their foundations. Between two and three thousand people had been made outcasts, although, fortunately, thanks to the terrible energy with which the work of rescue had been con- ducted, no lives had been lost. Of course, every house that could afford accomodation was promptly opened for the succor of the res- cued, the engine-houses receiving many of them. The morning of February 13 dawned clear and cold upon a wide pan- orama of devastation. The river continued to rise steadily, being now over thirty-nine feet on the falls, and the flood was creeping higher and higher, forcing fresh removals in all directions along the river front. Thousands of people assembled and stood gazing upon the spread of turbid water, dotted with the roofs of still standing houses or the bobbing wrecks of houses overthrown, and over whose surface, thickly covered with floating timbers, planks, bundles of shingles, sheds, sec- tions of wooden pavement, outhouses, articles of furniture, counters, shelves, desks, barrels, kegs, buckets, and an indescribable pell-mell of rubbish and ruin, a hundred boats were shooting, engaged in recover- ing household goods from all accessible dwellings. By 9 o'clock in the morning the steamboat Mattie Hays had been loaded with pro- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 54 - visions by the relief committee, and, with the mayor, several city of- ficials, and the life-saving crew on board, moved out to the succor of the sufferers. The first persons visited were a famished multitude of men, women, and children gathered in some anchored barges, many of whom had not tasted food since the day before. After they were supplied, the two station boats and one other shot out from the steamer in among the inundated houses, heavily laden with provisions, which were dealt out to the people in the upper stories. By 12 o'clock the distribution was completed in the region of the broken dam. Among the incidents of the voyage was the rescue of a half drowned and frozen cat, which the noble-hearted keeper took into the boat from a piece of floating lumber. A little later, a poor dog, howling piteously on the roof of a shed, was taken off by the same boat and put ashore. At 1 o'clock the steamer headed down the river on another trip of distribution to Portland and Shippingport, where the flood had made serious inroads. Half the life-saving crew assisted in distributing the provisions to the inhabitants in these quarters; the remainder were oc- cupied up at the city proper in assisting to remove furniture from the flooded homes around the levee. The day ended in a dreary fall of rain, which added to the general misery. This rain continued through the whole of the next day, February 14. There were now over forty feet of water on the falls, and the river was steadily rising. The entire river front, from the broken dam to Portland, was under water, and every hour the public alarm increased, as now streets were entered by the rushing torrent. The life-saving boats were out all day, their crews working hard in supplying insulated dwellings with provisions and removing families and their goods from endangered houses. Their method of working was to have a flat in tow of their two boats, loaded with provisions to draw from, and having space on which household effects could be conveniently piled. The range of operations embraced the whole nine miles of river front. In one in- stance a house was entered from the boat by the second-story window and a young mother found in a bed surrounded with water, where, within a few hours, she had given birth to a child. The rain continued on the next day, February 15, until noon, when it stopped, leaving a cloudy sky and pleasant atmosphere. The river still rose, and there were over forty-one feet of water on the falls. Over a dozen houses broke from their foundations during the day and drifted down over the chute, to be finally dashed to pieces. At least fifty additional families were compelled to move by the advance of the flood, those of the station boatmen Leopold and Farrell being among them. Both of the station boats were out all day, and the keeper and his men toiled unremittingly in distributing provisions and removing furniture. The next day, February 16, was cloudy and pleasant until noon, when rain set in. The rising of the river still continued and there were ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 55 - over forty-two feet of water on the falls. Of course, this rise in- volved still further encroachments of the flood, and houses were hourly filling or crumbling under its advance. The gas-works, which were in the flooded district of Portland, had now begun to fill, and the city was threatened with nocturnal darkness. In fact, the city authorities decided not to have the street-lamps lighted that night, but save the gas for the use of householders. A great deal of illness, especially of the malarial type, prevailed throughout the flooded districts, and the life-saving crew, with their coadjutors, had begun to distribute medi- cines suitable to chills and fever along with the supplies of provis- ions. It was on this day that Superintendent Dobbins arrived, and the keeper sent Boatman Gillooley over to Jeffersonville, on the Indiana shore, to row him across. The steamer Mattie Hays had also started on the same errand, with the mayor and a large number of city officials on board, and met Captain Dobbins in the life-saving boat about half way across. He was at once taken on deck, and, after the customary intro- ductions, the mayor took the opportunity to express, in behalf of the city of Louisville, heartfelt gratitude for the aid rendered by the life-saving crew, adding that to Keeper Devan and his brave men the peo- ple owed more than they could ever express. The day was spent by the life-saving crew, like the days preceeding, in rescueing families from flooded houses, saving furniture, and dealing out provisions, and the greater part of the night was given, as had been every night since the 11th, to the same work, and to helping police the river against the swarm of thieves which infested it and broke into the half-submerged houses whenever opportunity favored. The gas-works were now inundated, and at night the city was in total darkness. On February 17 the rain fell heavily until noon, when it changed to hail, with a strong northwest wind, and by evening to a snow-storm. The weather turned bitterly cold, increasing the misery of the sufferers from the flood, and the high wind made fresh havoc among the shaking houses, several of which were overturned, torn from their foundations, and swept over the falls. A strong current in the river also wrought much destruction among the lumber-yards and rafts of logs, a great deal of the material being carried away. Nevertheless the dreary weather and the ravage of the storm were mitigated with hope, for the river had be- gun to go down. The life-savers were almost alone in their work, owing to the savage inclemency of the day, and were out constantly, having the flat in tow of their boats, loaded with provisions and clothing, which they distributed incessantly to all in need. The station medicine-chest was also brought into requisition. During the day a barge of coal was procured and dealt out to many families immersed in their flood- surrounded houses and in misery for want of fire. A number of persons were landed, and their furniture brought away, from tenements tottering in the wind. In one case a family had not vacated the house more than two hours when it turned over on its side and was buried in the waters. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ - 56 - On the next day, February 18, the weather was clear and cold, and the river was still falling. The day was spent by the life-saving crew in the usual distributions of clothing, provisions, and coal. The same ministrations were continued on the 19th, which was also cold and fine. The 20th was occupied in a last distribution, the necessity for the services of the life-saving crew having ceased with this date. The river was now falling sensibly, and the register showed thirty-six feet of water on the falls. The station was removed to her old mooring quar- ters and put in order. The keeper and his men were nearly worn out with their long continued labors. Several of the crew had terribly sore hands, caused by incessant heavy lifting and hard pulling. During their nine days' ordeal this gallant squad had brought ashore four hundred and fifty persons. Of these about two hundred were rescued from actual peril. They comprised men, women, and children, many of them infirm, and several of them so sick that they had to be carried down a ladder into the boats. The number of people to whom the crew distributed pro- visions, clothing, fuel, and medicines was upward of four thousand. No estimate can be formed of the value of the great amount of property they saved, which consisted mainly of the household effects of poor people, to whom, considering the fact that it was their all, it had a worth be- yond computation. A departing flood marks its exodus with ravage, and the inundated districts of the city suffered much destruction from the abating waters for a long time after the need had ceased for the distribution of supplies to the distressed people by the life-saving crew. It is note- worthy that the flood, both in its coming and going, with all its in- volved suffering and loss, appears, judging by the expressions of the local journals and by other testimonies, to have made less impression upon the community of Louisville than the manful and ardent service rendered to the sufferers from the calamity by Keeper Devan and his men. The enthusiasm with which their exploits have been regarded in that region ever since the establishment of the station seemed to augment immeasurably with every day of their toilsome and perilous voyages of succor over the yellow waves of the overflow. ===========================================================================