The Frankfort roundabout. [volume] (Frankfort, Ky.) 1882-1908, 1900-09-22

but none could be given. CHM
neys, church steeples, timbers were
falling everywhere, while shin
giles, states and seemingly every
thing else filed the air and dashed
against the house. Large heavy
glass in bay windows crashed in,
and floods OF water dashed clear
across the rooms thus exposed.
Shutters were slashing about furi-
Ously, and doors blown open till
nailed to the frames. Roofs leaked
like sleeves and furniture was
; soaked and ruined.
All this time the storm was in
creasing. The wind had veered a
little TO the east, getting a different
aim at the house, and as each blast
increased in fury the house rocked
and trembled more and more. The
family and many refugees were in
the rear part, some praying but all
composed, though expecting the
end at any moment. Oh. it was a
time of supreme anguish, without
one encouraging feature. 1t being
dark we could not see the outside
scene, else Gall shope Ewould have
vanished. We could hear the crash
of falling houses-the swapping of
immense telegraph poles, carrying
scores of wires, and the jamming
| Of nj In 81 hut
only listen and wait.
The wind now was blowing no
miles an hour (by the Government
instrument), but gradually veering
east-south-east. This change stop
ped the water from the bay, carry
ing it back whence it came, but
the gulf on the other side was still
busy destroying all that stood on
miles of territory, with everything
animate and inanimate in and out
of the buildings. / did not see this
work as it progressed, but did see
the result and can not tell you a
1.-THE of it's awfulness.
About o'clock the moon had
risen, so that little light assisted
vision, and then came the unspeak-
ably joyous announcement that the
storm was abating-the WATER
WAS FALLINGrr Each heart
bounded TO the music of that God
given assurance of safety-some be-
coming almost hysterical in the
sudden transition from terror to de-
liverance. Now the water went out
even faster than it came, and by IL
O'Clock the street was empty.
Sunday morning dawned dull and
angry looking on a scene of desola-
ton impossible TO describe with
Justice. Every house damaged more
or less; windows, doors, blinds,
chimneys, fences everything
wrecked. The great st. Patrick $
Church steeple, 23O feet high, just
in our front, gone down, and with
it the building it had ornamented.
All streets blockaded with broken
houses, furniture and every con-
ceivable thing to be found in city.
Dead animals of all descriptions
packed in the drifts, or lying about
everywhere. But the soul-sicken-
ing feature was the numberless
human forms of all ages, national
titles, sexes and conditions! Not
one or two here and there, but
thousands of them! All day Sun
day people were passing with
broken heats, saying II am all
I that's left--wife and five children
wife and two children-father,
mother, brothers and sisters, all
gone-I'm all that's left!' These,
perhaps, were exceptions, for in
hundreds of cases none were leftl
Notwithstanding these dreadful
conditions there was complete
absence of excitement. Everybody
seemed dazed. Men and women
would stand and tell of their utter
desolation in tones and manner as
calm and self-possessed as though
/ relating an ordinary circumstance.
Not sob nor tear betokened the
grief that gnawed their souls.
Now / come to the grewsome,
face-to-face realities of this awful
thing. Two days 1 was along with
gangs of men burying and cremat-
ing the bodies of the dead. Scores
of parties were engaged in the same
service, and are yet, and no one