Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1886-12-11
BRAVE KATE SHELLEY.
How She Risked Her Life and Prevented
a Disaster.

To-day at the house of a mutual friend |
met q nineteenth century heroine-a young
girl who wears upon her breast massive
gold medal that was presented to her by
the Legislature of the State of Iowa some
wears ago as a mark of its appreciation of
her wonderful courage and presence of
mind. Tall, erect and well proportioned
with her dark, bright eyes rosy cheeks and
clearly cut features, forming charming
picture of strong, true American woman
hood, Kate Shelley, of Boone, Ia, is girl
that any father or any State might be
proud Of. She is to-day 81 years old, but
She was only 10 when by an act of daring
bravery she won the admiration and graft
tude of the people of her native State and
made her name famous among them.
About dark on July 6, 1881, wind and
rain-storm of unparalleled severity burst
over Kate Shelley's home, in the country
near Honey creek. The Des Moines river
rose six feet, and every creek was over its
banks in less than an hour. The window
of this brave girls room commanded
view of the Honey creek railroad bridge.
Peering out into the darkness she saw, by
the aid of the vivid flashes OF lightning
which at frequent intervals illuminated the
scene, that houses, barns, fences, lumber
and everything portable within reach of
wind swept by with fearful and ever
increasing velocity, and the waters contin-
ned quickly and steadily to rise.
Through the blackness and storm she
saw a locomotive headlight advancing
swiftly in fhe direction of the bridge,
which the food had borne away. A second
later and the light suddenly dropped down
out of sight, and through the roaring of the
wind and the waters rendered it impossible
for her to hear the frightful crash it must
have made, she knew that a train of cars
had plunged into the abyss.
Throwing an old waterproof about her
shoulders and hastily lighting lantern
she ventured forth into the storm. The
food was far above all roads and pathways
to the waters edge, and she soon realized
that it would be impossible to reach the
wreck, She must try some other plan. a
steep, rocky bluff led up to the track. She
began to ascend it. With her clothes torn
to rags and her flesh laeerated by the thick
growth OF bushes, she at last reached the
rails. There was still a small portion Of
the bridge left. On her hands and knees
she crawled out on the remaining ties to
the last one, and holding on with one hand
for her life, she leaned out over the water
as far as she could, and waving her Ian
tern cried out at the top of her voice
From the black gulf below there came in
answer the faint accents of the engineer,
who told her il was the freight train that
had gone over, and that, though badly in
iuted, he had saved himself from drown
ing by crawling up on some broken tim
beers. He believed that all the other train
hands had perished and advised her to
proceed at once to the nearest station, warn
the approaching express train of its danger,
and return with help for him.
Retracing her steps the young heroine
was soon Fastening along the track with
all the speed she could make against the
bowling tempest toward Moingona, small
station about one mile from Honey creek.
To reach that point she had to cross the
high trestle bridge over the Des Moines
river, distance Of 500 feet. Her trembling
foot had scarcely taken its first step upon
the structure when sudden and appalling
burst of thunder, lightning, wind and rain
nearly threw her over into the water and
at the same time extinguishing her light. |
Matches would have been powerle55 to re-
light it in such hurricane, even if she had |
them. and she was now unable to see even !
q hands length before her, except when