Module 3: "Heroic San Francisco" by Louise Herrick Wall

A WOMAN'S STORY OF THE PLUCK AND HEROISM OF THE PEOPLE OF THE STRICKEN CITY

A WOMAN'S STORY OF THE PLUCK AND HEROISM OF THE PEOPLE OF THE STRICKEN CITY

A WOMAN'S STORY OF THE PLUCK AND HEROISM OF THE PEOPLE OF THE STRICKEN CITY

Horror, panic, dread, terror—these are the words that have been most lavishly used by the local and Eastern press in describing the effect of the extraordinary disasters that have rushed upon us here in San Francisco during the last two weeks, filling every hour since the great earthquake shock of the morning of April 18—and the vastly more disastrous succeeding days of the fire—with a tempest of hurrying events.

And yet to the thousands who have been caught within the whirlpool of intense activity the words seem unreal, crude, and essentially false to the spirit that animates the whole mass of the people who are living with passionate energy through this time.

And yet to the thousands who have been caught within the whirlpool of intense activity the words seem unreal, crude, and essentially false to the spirit that animates the whole mass of the people who are living with passionate energy through this time.

And yet to the thousands who have been caught within the whirlpool of intense activity the words seem unreal, crude, and essentially false to the spirit that animates the whole mass of the people who are living with passionate energy through this time.

And yet to the thousands who have been caught within the whirlpool of intense activity the words seem unreal, crude, and essentially false to the spirit that animates the whole mass of the people who are living with passionate energy through this time.

And yet to the thousands who have been caught within the whirlpool of intense activity the words seem unreal, crude, and essentially false to the spirit that animates the whole mass of the people who are living with passionate energy through this time.

The truth is that despair is not to be seen on any face, nor the droop of it weighing upon any shoulder, nor the ring of it heard in any voice, except where extreme old age or habitual self-indulgence has already set its mark.

The truth is that despair is not to be seen on any face, nor the droop of it weighing upon any shoulder, nor the ring of it heard in any voice, except where extreme old age or habitual self-indulgence has already set its mark.

Early in the morning of April 19, twenty-four hours after the heaviest shocks, when the earth still quaked at short intervals and the walls of wrecked buildings crumbled in at a puff of wind...

...the fire had swept the Mission and most of the water-front bare, and was rushing against and overwhelming the great business blocks of the main thoroughfares...

...when the incessant explosions of dynamite of the fire-fighters, who strove to save by destruction, came in rushes of sound on each wave of ash laden air that burned the face and dimmed the sight, I walked the whole length of San Francisco from the ferry to army headquarters in the Presidio and back again...

...when the incessant explosions of dynamite of the fire-fighters, who strove to save by destruction, came in rushes of sound on each wave of ash laden air that burned the face and dimmed the sight, I walked the whole length of San Francisco from the ferry to army headquarters in the Presidio and back again...

...I walked the whole length of San Francisco from the ferry to army headquarters in the Presidio and back again, and made a number of detours into the burning city, as far as the bayonets of the fire-line of guards would permit...

...I walked the whole length of San Francisco from the ferry to army headquarters in the Presidio and back again, and made a number of detours into the burning city, as far as the bayonets of the fire-line of guards would permit...

...over hot debris and under festoons of half-melted, fallen wires, where the city in its first hot haste was vomited out upon these ruined streets; and yet I saw no despair upon any human face.

...over hot debris and under festoons of half-melted, fallen wires, where the city in its first hot haste was vomited out upon these ruined streets; and yet I saw no despair upon any human face.

...over hot debris and under festoons of half-melted, fallen wires, where the city in its first hot haste was vomited out upon these ruined streets; and yet I saw no despair upon any human face.

In that day's tramp of twenty blistering miles I saw only four faces that showed the trace of tears and heard fewer shaken voices, and yet for miles my way lay among those who had just lost their homes and had turned but then from seeing the complete destruction of all their material wealth.

I was close to the people, often wedged in among them for twenty minutes at a time.

I must have spoken to several hundred refugees, so could not have failed to know the temper of the crowd, even if it had interested me less profoundly.

I must have spoken to several hundred refugees, so could not have failed to know the temper of the crowd, even if it had interested me less profoundly.

For hours as I walked I was combating the fatal but almost universal belief that the ferries had stopped running, that the wharves were all burned, and that the only hope of safety lay in reaching the west side of Van Ness Avenue and, if driven from there, to seek final refuge in the sand-dunes of Golden Gate Park and the Presidio.

For hours as I walked I was combating the fatal but almost universal belief that the ferries had stopped running, that the wharves were all burned, and that the only hope of safety lay in reaching the west side of Van Ness Avenue and, if driven from there, to seek final refuge in the sand-dunes of Golden Gate Park and the Presidio.

For hours as I walked I was combating the fatal but almost universal belief that the ferries had stopped running, that the wharves were all burned, and that the only hope of safety lay in reaching the west side of Van Ness Avenue and, if driven from there, to seek final refuge in the sand-dunes of Golden Gate Park and the Presidio.

For hours as I walked I was combating the fatal but almost universal belief that the ferries had stopped running, that the wharves were all burned, and that the only hope of safety lay in reaching the west side of Van Ness Avenue and, if driven from there, to seek final refuge in the sand-dunes of Golden Gate Park and the Presidio.

For hours as I walked I was combating the fatal but almost universal belief that the ferries had stopped running, that the wharves were all burned, and that the only hope of safety lay in reaching the west side of Van Ness Avenue and, if driven from there, to seek final refuge in the sand-dunes of Golden Gate Park and the Presidio.

If the people who lived in the down-town district had known on the 18th, 19th, and 20th of April that they could escape from San Francisco into the country by way of Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, and the Marin County towns, an inestimable amount of suffering would have been spared, but they firmly believed themselves hemmed in by the fire.

If the people who lived in the down-town district had known on the 18th, 19th, and 20th of April that they could escape from San Francisco into the country by way of Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, and the Marin County towns, an inestimable amount of suffering would have been spared, but they firmly believed themselves hemmed in by the fire.

The city, to them, was a trap with only one possible egress, miles and miles to the west.

Day after day and all night long, without regular food, drink, rest, or respite from intense anxiety, thousands of families of women and little children dragged themselves from place to place in front of the flames, lying without shelter in vacant lots, exposed to fog and chilling rain.

Premature childbirth and death to the feeblest of the old people resulted from the fatal misconception.

Premature childbirth and death to the feeblest of the old people resulted from the fatal misconception.

Premature childbirth and death to the feeblest of the old people resulted from the fatal misconception.

In many cases families were walking and dragging their few rescued possessions away from the reach of the flames for four or five successive days and nights, going from one place of temporary shelter to another without the commonest necessities of life and without sleep.