Clarke courier. [volume] (Berryville, Va.) 1869-1997, 1901-07-03


When the flames had swept in red
horror across TO the east of the city,
they turned. Back to the west
along Bay street and the water front
tumbling and rolled the pillows of
fire. AS the fire changed its direc-
ton and came whirling back toward
the west the telegraph building that
lay to the front of it was vacated.
Clerks fed; operators deserted their
machines
The big building was empty and
silent, and the world was waiting to
know the fate of the city
One man said it was Steele.
He sat at his desk on the second
floor. By his side was an open win
dow. He could look out upon that
scene, sublime in its awfulness.
Steadily the whirlwind of flame ad-
vsnced nearer and nearer.
Above the roar of the flames, the
crash of falling walls and the heart
rendering screams of frantic men and
women there rose one sound.
Above the clamor steady and clear
clicked Steele's key.
Out of the window be saw this
building and that blaze up, totter
and fall, and as be watched he sent
out over the wire the story of what
be saw.
The heat and smoke we're sitting.
He sought brief breathing spell in
the open street. Z block above, in
front of the Times. Union and Citi-
zens Office, he saw young girl stag
ger and drop a bundle, saved from a
ruined home, under the trampling
feet of the surging throng at the cor
ner.
He stopped and drew from under
the feet of the crowd this bundle
and lifted the slight form of the girl
into the newspaper office.
Somewhere out on the river or
across on the other side were his
wife and baby; he knew not where,
but he hoped and believed them to
be safe .- . 81.
An acquaintance, haggsrd and
smoke stained, seized his arm as he
started back to his work at the tele-
graph key.
"They say that your wife and baby
were on the ferryboat that caught fire
and was wrecked in the river!" cried
the man hoarsely.
"You lier' said Steele. "Turn me
loose. have work to do"
The man dropped his arm and
stepped aside.
He saw that telegraph key, the
world, and the world was expecting
the best that was in him.
He would give it.
The evening gloom and shadow
were beginning to settle around the
edges of the fires red glare when he
sat down at his key again. Night
was coming on. The flames were
steadily sweeping along toward the
telegraph building. The heat was
sickening.
But he staid at his key, watching
the flames through the open window
and telling the world what he saw.
How long the hours seemed!
And now out of his window was
naught but red sea of flames. The
buildings across from the office, on
the other side of Laura street, were
ablaze.
The message went out to the world
that the Western Union building was
doomed. The man who sent the mes
sage believed it. He thought the
next instant to be entrapped in mer-
cliess all consuming furnace.
But, wonderful to tell, the flames
that had laughed at the firemen's eff
forts to fight them before languished.
They died away and sickened and
sank into naught but hot, red glare.
The great fire was under control.
The telegraph Office was saved.
He didn't seem to know that he
was the hero of Jacksonville's great
fire or any hero at all; but he was.
There was, of course, many and
many brave deed done on that day
of days and many man played the
part of most sublime heroism.
But the man who stands out in the
boldest and clearest relief against
that shadowy background of terror