San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-08-01
A HERoINE'S DISTRESS.
Brave Kate Shelly Gets a Medal. bur
Little More.

Kate Shelly is the girl who, on the night
of July 6, 1881, in one of the most fearful
wind and rain storms ever known in that
region, crossed the Des Moines river trestle
bridge between her house and Moingona
on bleeding hands and knees to warn the
operator that Honey Creek bridge was
gone, that an engine had plunged through,
killing two men, and that the express soon
Cue would meet a like fate unless stopped.
For weeks after this happened the news
papers of the country rang with the ac-
acknowledgements of the girls bravery, and
with suggestions for a proper reward fer
the lives she had saved. Then, notwith-
standing the claim the girl had upon the
gratitude of the public, the years that
have passed since the event that made her
famous have brought her nothing to lift
her above the toll made necessary by pow
erty. Instead, the story of her blowing
and sowing and reaping, her saving and
chopping wood and teaching between times,
would be full of pathetic appeal. The ia
ther is dead, and on Kate, the oldest of
four, and herself not yet IS, has fallen the
house burden.
From strictly picturesque and romantic
point. Of view the story of Miss Shelly's
deed of daring is one of vivid strokes and
daring color. Kate Shelly was then Is
years old, the daughter of man already
dead, who had settled on piece of land
afterward cut across by the Chicago and
Northwestern railroad. The land was
billy and so unfit for cultivation that Mr..
Shelly abandoned farming and became a
workman on the roadbed of the new rail
road Exposure brought on consumption
and he died.
From the time of her fathers death the
story of this child's plucky fight with life
is one crowned with dignity.
The tiny house in which the Shelly fam
lily lived in 1881 stood just at the eastern
foot of long and high semicircular hill,
which indeed lacked but little of entirely
surrounding the house, opening sufficiently
on the opposite sides for the passage of the
railroad. Through these two openings also
flowed Honey creek, twice within this circle
spanned by the railroad with bridges, while
to the southwest flowed the serene Des
Moines, bridged by an immense 800 foot
trestlc.
About O'Clock on the evening of July 6
one of the most terrible rain storms ever
known in Iowa burst upon Boone county.
1t changed the little creek into a leaping
flood that soon burst it's bounds and
swept out upon the valley.
The position of the tiny house upon the
hill gave Kate a chance to watch the
havoc all about her and to fully compre-
mend what followed.
In the midst of the yelling of the wind
and the cannonade of thunder the ringing
of an engine bell fell on Hates ear 1t was
an engine which had been sent out from
Eoone TO feel along" the bridges and see
il the twenty or more along this short
line were safe for trains to cross. A
moment later the engine crept out upon
the bridge. There was crash of break
ing timbers, the thud of an engines plunge
and the wild kissing of the water upon the
hot boiler
Kate knew what it meant, and she flew
out into the storm. The pleading of
mother and sisters fell on heroic ears.
Men are perishing. Father was a rail
road man. Help must be given"
She flew to the spot nearest to where the
engine had plunged into the water. She
found two men dead and two men unin-
jured, but so stranded on the driftwood as
TO be out of her reach.
Then she remembered the express. All
about her were the roaring waters, tear
ing up great trees by the. roots. The hid
eOus wind yelled at the daring of the in
spired child and seemed to dare her to pro-
coed. She Crept along in the darkness, her
only guide the livid flash that sprang upon
her from moment to moment, and at last
reached the trestle.
To cross this single tracked bridge in
the daytime required the steadiest of
nerves. How could she cross it in this
fearful darkness, with a light that came
only to blind her? What was there for her
but death if the train came before she had
crossed the horrid chasm?
Down on her knees the brave girl went.
1t was her duty, for death would pay the
penalty of her Cowardice, and she could
lot be coward if she would.
Down on her knees she falls and begins
her dreadful task, her ears strained to hear
in the noise of the tempest the whistle
and roar of the flying train. Midway
across the bridge huge tree tears down
the flood and adds new peril. A moment
yet and its branches part 40 only touch
her skirt with gentle switch as it sweeps
under the bridge.
At last she reaches the end of the bridge,
hands and knees torn and bleeding, and
every muscle and nerve so tense and quiv-
ering that her limbs refuse to hold her.
She almost faints as she tries to stand
erect, and she &ars she cannot reach the
station after all. Once more her splendid
courage avails her. She gathers strength,
tears her clinging skirt from about her
knees and leaps on faster and faster until
the station at Moingona is reached. She
screams her message to the astOnished OPP
l.: e IL.