Milford chronicle. [volume] (Milford, Del.) 1878-1974, 1907-08-16
CalmaQe
Sermon
By Rev.
Frank De Witt Talmaee, DID.

sermon the preacher, who was an eve
witness Of the rescue of the survivor
OF the appalling Columbia wreck
draws an eloquent and timely lessor
from the disaster The text is Psalm
XVI, 8, Though the waters thereof roai
and be troubled"
Upon a curtain Of one of the publ,
places Of amusement in the CITY OF
Chicago is a beautiful picture of the
white City" of the national exposi
ton Of 1898. Underneath this won
derful vision are written these words
And should I live a thousand years
I never can forget it,
This was the sentence which sprane
to my lips when l sat down to write
the horrible experience Of the most
momentous day Of my life. But now,
instead Of seeing beautiful white build
ings, with their columns and domes
and minarets, and hearing the sweet
notes of the most famous musicians in
the world played in the gardens and
hearing the songs and the merrymak-
ings of the happy parties which filled
the gondOlas of that new Venice of
the west, | saw a sinking ship crowd
ed with men and women. / saw life
boats filed to the gunwales with help
less human beings l saw the wreck
age drifting everywhither And above
all, in imagination, / could see the
white faces of men, women and chill
dren coming to the surface of the mer-
CHESS ocean, eagerly looking to see
whether their loved ones had been
saved and then disappearing into those
depths from which only the archangel's
resurrection trumpet can now bring
them forth. Should I live a thousand
years l can never forget it. Perhaps
even in heaven l shall yet talk over
the horrors of that day with some who
won the crown of martyrdom when the
Columbia, one of the finest ships on
the Pacific ocean, collided with the
lumber boat San Pedro and then blew
up and added one more tragedy to the
long list of marine catastrOphes.
1t was on a beautiful summer after
noon, July 20, 1907, that we set sail
from that gem of harbOrs and passed
through the Golden Gate of the Pacific
at San Francisco, For weeks and
months had been preparing and look
ing forward to the time when, with my
boy and a couple of dear friends, 1
could drop work and camp for a few
weeks in the famous forests of north
ern California. The sea never looked
more peaceful, the sky never more
bright, Hard, grinding work for a 1T
tie while was to be cast aside-nO
telephone, no telegraph, no callers,
no mail, no engagements TO speak.
was just to listen to the music Of the
woods and HE away to the secret
haunts of the deer. For hours We
paced the deck Then the sun sank to
the vest and the moon began to pave
the crystal pavements of the deep with
nuggets of gold. Silently, yet relent-
Aessly, the dense fog banks began to
shut out the lofty hills to our right.
Then the hoarse and reverberating and
irritating fog horn began to blow.
''Well." I said TO one of my friends,
mo sleep tonight. l have Travelled all
around the world have been months
and months upon the sea, and yet
could never understand why the sailors
would persist in blowing that fog horn.
The sea is so wide and the ships so
few do not believe there is any more
danger of a collision than there is of
shooting a deer in the woods if you lift
your gun at random and shut your eyes
and pull the trigger and know not
where the ball will fly" Ny travelling
companion said nothing He always
has that rebulling silence when I have
made any statement which is in self
evident defiance of all the laws of COM
mon sense.
The Fog Horns Call
/ went to bed in DISGUST. Hardly
would I get to sleep when I would be
awakened with the fog horns call;
Look out! There is danger! Look
outr' At ) O'Clock in the morning
arose and went on deck and ate SEINE
fruit. Then l returned to my state
room and crawled into bed with my
little boy. I had not been there more
than ten minutes wien I heard a rapid
pattering of feet and the sharp COM
mand of the officers 1 again arose.
As 1 looked out Of the staterOom said,
"What is the n4atter?" Then the Off
Ger. pointing ahead, said, Look!
looked, and, o God, I saw the saddest
sight OF my life. There was a small
lumber boat which seemed to be turn
ing turtle" Its decks were simply
swarming with people. Yonder were
difeboats. Here were RATS. Here
were loose, floating life preservers. A
collision had clearly taken place. But
where was the other ship? With that
the men and the women and the chill
dren, seeing the relief coming out Of
the fog bank, raised a cheer Of thanks
giving. But for us on the George w.
Elder we could raise no cheer. The
scene was too tragic.
Then the work Of rescue. AS our
1000 shin vvas rolling This way and