San Francisco During the Eventful Days of April, 1906
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James B. Stetson >> San Francisco During the Eventful Days of April, 1906
These recollections were written in June, 1906, but the first edition
being exhausted and a new one being required, I have included some
events that occurred later, without changing the original date.
Personal Recollections During the Eventful Days of April, 1906
As the earthquake and the great fire in San Francisco in the year 1906
were events of such unusual interest, and realizing how faulty is man's
memory after time passes, I have here jotted down a few incidents which
I personally observed, and shall lay them away, so that if in the future
I should desire I can refer to these notes, made while the events were
new and fresh in my mind, with some assurance of their accuracy.
On the morning of April 18, 1906, at 5:13, in my residence, 1801 Van
Ness Avenue, I was awakened by a very severe shock of earthquake. The
shaking was so violent that it nearly threw me out of bed. It threw down
a large bookcase in my chamber, broke the glass front, and smashed two
chairs; another bookcase fell across the floor; the chandelier was so
violently shaken that I thought it would be broken into pieces. The
bric-a-brac was thrown from the mantel and tables, and strewed the floor
with broken china and glass. It is said to have lasted fifty-eight
seconds, but as nearly as I can estimate the violent part was only about
twelve seconds.
As soon as it was over I got up and went to the window, and saw the air
in the street filled with a white dust, which was caused by the falling
of masonry from St. Luke's Church on the diagonal corner from my room. I
waited for the dust to settle, and I then saw the damage which had been
done to Claus Spreckels's house and the church. The chimneys of the
Spreckels mansion were gone, the stone balustrade and carved work
wrecked. The roof and the points of the gables and ornamental stone work
of the church had fallen, covering the sidewalk and lying piled up
against the sides of the building to the depth of eight or ten feet.
About this time Rachel and Nora were knocking, at my door and inquiring
if I were alive. I opened the door and they came in, Rachel badly
frightened and Nora sprinkling holy water over the room.
I hurriedly dressed and went up, to my daughter's (Mrs. Winslow's)
house, 1945 Pacific Avenue, and found her and the children with their
neighbors in the street and very much frightened. Their house was
cracked considerably, and she had been imprisoned in her room by the
binding of the door, which had to be broken open to enable her to
escape. The chimneys of her house were thrown down and much valuable
glass and chinaware broken. I returned to my house and found that the
tops of all my chimneys had been thrown down, and one was lying in the
front yard sixteen feet from the building. There were some cracks
visible in the library, but none in my room, and only very few in the
parlor and dining-room. In the kitchen, however, the plastering was very
badly cracked and the tiles around the sink thrown out. In the parlor
the marble statue of the "Diving Girl" was thrown from its pedestal and
broken into fragments. The glass case containing the table glassware in
the dining-room and its contents were uninjured; very little china and
glassware were broken in the pantry; the clocks were not stopped. A
water-pipe broke in the ceiling of the spare room and the water did some
damage.
I then went over to the power-house of the California-Street Railroad
and found that about seventy feet of the smoke-stack had fallen
diagonally across the roof, and about six feet of it into the stable,
where were two horses; fortunately it did not touch them, but before
they were released they squealed and cried, most piteously. One of them
was so badly frightened that he was afterward useless and we turned him
out to pasture and he grew lean and absolutely worthless. Things were
considerably disturbed, but the engines were apparently uninjured. The
watchman was not injured, although surrounded by falling bricks and
mortar. I was told that the water supply was stopped, and later learned
that it was because the earthquake had broken the water-mains.
I then started on foot down-town, this was about 7 A. M.; no cars were
running on any line. The sidewalks in many places were heaved up,
chimneys thrown down, and walls cracked by the earthquake. St. Mary's
Cathedral and Grace Church gave no outward sign of being injured;
neither did the Fairmont Hotel. I went on California Street, over Nob
Hill, and as I got in sight of the business part of the city, I saw as
many as ten or twelve fires in the lower part of the city. The wind was
light from the northwest, and the smoke ascended in great columns, and
the sun through it looked like a large copper disk. When I arrived at
California and Montgomery streets the lower part of both sides of
California Street seemed to be all on fire. I did not realize that the
whole city would be burned. I had a vague idea that it would stop, or be
stopped, as fires had been hundreds of times before in this city. I went
along Sansome Street to Pine and down Pine towards Market. I saw that
Holbrook, Merrill & Stetson's store was all on fire, and when I arrived
at Front Street I saw that the Commercial Block on the southeast corner
of Front and California streets (on the fifth floor of which was my
office), was not on fire. So I started to go toward the building. The
fire was then burning fiercely at the southeast corner of California and
Battery. I went to the entrance at 123 California Street and met the
janitor coming out, who said I could not go upstairs, as the building
was on fire on the fifth floor. However, I started slowly up. The sparks
were coming down into the open area in a shower, but there was no smoke
in the building, so I was sure that it was not on fire on the inside. I
got up to my room on the fifth floor and found the door would not come
open. I tried the door in the adjoining office of the American Beet
Sugar Company and found it open. From that room I got into mine. I
raised my shades, and the fire was blazing at Battery Street and
California, fully seventy-five feet high, and not more than three
hundred feet distant from me. I looked through the hall and rooms and
saw no smoke, and was sure that I was safe for a few minutes. As I
turned the combination of my safe to open it another shock of earthquake
came, which confused me a little, but I persevered and opened it. I had
a quantity of souvenirs and presents which had been given me in years
past. These I gathered up, and with my deeds and insurance and other
papers soon had my arms full. I saw a fish-basket on my closet; I got it
down and put all these little things in it, then opened the little iron
box in the corner of the safe, and there dropped out some coins on the
floor. I remembered that I had put four twenty-dollar pieces in there
the day before. I felt on the floor and picked up two of them, and as I
did not find any more I concluded that they must have remained in the
safe; so I took the fish-basket and my books and papers in my arms,
closed the safe, turned on the combination, and started down the stairs
to the street. The sparks were plentiful in the area when I went up, but
they were more so as I came down, - a perfect firestorm, after the
manner of a snow-storm. When I got back on to California Street the air
was a mass of sparks and smoke being blown down the street toward the
ferry. As I had to go against it to get to Front Street, I was afraid
that my papers would take fire in my arms; so I buttoned up my coat to
protect my papers, pulled my hat over my eyes, and dived through, up
California Street and out Front towards Pine Street, from where I
started. There I found it clear of smoke and fire. As I passed along
with my arms full I saw a typewriter cover on the street, which I picked
up. Finding it empty, I stopped and turned it over and, dropping my
bundle into it, started for Front and Market Streets. There was no fire
within a block of that corner at this time. This was about 8 A. M. -
perhaps 8:30. I sat down on an empty box in the middle of Market Street
for a rest, when W. R. Whittier came along and helped me with my load.
We took it to the door of the Union Trust Company, and they would not
let me in. I went upstairs and found Mr. Deering, who took it, and we
went down and put it into the vault between the outer and inner doors.
(In twenty-two days afterward I received it back in as good condition as
when I had left it there on the memorable 18th, of April.) I next went
up to Third Street and found the fire raging strong at the corner of
Third and Mission. My son was passing in his automobile, and I got in
with him. He was going to the Mechanics' Pavilion, where he said he
could do some work for the temporary hospital established there. When we
reached the Pavilion they said there were two hundred wounded inside. At
this hour there was no building on fire on the south line of Market
Street west of Fremont Street. We went around to the drug-stores and
hardware-stores to get hot-water bags and oil and alcohol stoves and
surgeons' appliances. We took with us Miss Sarah Fry, a Salvation Army
woman, who was energetic and enthusiastic. When we arrived at a
drug-store under the St. Nicholas she jumped out, and, finding the door
locked, seized a chair and raising it above her head smashed the glass
doors in and helped herself to hot-water bags, bandages, and everything
which would be useful in an emergency hospital. I continued with Harry
for a couple of hours. I then started down Market Street. The fire at
that hour, 10:30 A. M., was raging strong south of Market Street from
about Fifth to Tenth Street. I left Market Street and went up on to
Golden Gate Avenue. At Hyde and Golden Gate Avenue I saw a large
two-story house which had been wrecked by the earthquake. The doors,
windows and all the upright-portion of the first story, were crushed and
stood on an angle of 45°. I enquired of a woman seated on a pile of
rubbish, who said "no one was killed, but what am I to do?" The City
Hall was badly wrecked, great cracks were to be seen and about
two-thirds of the great dome had fallen. On one of our trips we went out
to the Park Emergency Hospital, and at 11 o'clock I found myself in the
Pacific Union Club and was able to get a cup of coffee and a sandwich,
which was the first food I had tasted that day. I went out from the club
and saw the fire raging on Market Street between First and Second. About
this hour a policeman notified me to meet the Mayor at the Hall of
justice, who had called a meeting of citizens for 2 o'clock. Met Mr. J.
E. Tucker - sat down with him on a box in the middle of Market Street,
opposite Lotta's Fountain, and we discussed the situation. We agreed
that the city was doomed to destruction, and that we were unable to do
anything to save it. Crowds of people were about, only looking on - some
looked dazed, and others wildly excited. I walked down to Bush Street
between Sansome and Montgomery, met Mr. Murphy of the First National
Bank, and Herman Oelrichs, and discussed with them as to whether it
would come to his building. The earthquake had thrown the heavy granite
cornice of his bank building into the middle of Bush Street. Murphy,
Grant & Co.'s building was on fire at this time; this was between 1 and
2 P. M.. Went along Montgomery to California Street, and found the fire
approaching Montgomery Street. At 3 o'clock it had got to the Palace
Hotel on the Mission-Street side, and by 3:30 it was well on fire. About
this time I went into the Western Union Telegraph office, and while
writing a telegram to Nellie and Robert, who were on their way to New
York, the announcement was made that no more telegrams would be
received. I then walked home, and at that time the streets leading to
Lafayette Square and the Presidio were filled with people dragging
trunks and valises along, trying to find a place of safety. They
generally landed in the Presidio. As night came on the fire made it as
light as day, and I could read without other light in any part of my
house. At 8 in the evening. I went downtown to see the situation, going
to Grant Avenue through Post Street, then to Sutter, and down Sutter to
Montgomery. The fire was then burning the eastern half of the Occidental
Hotel and the Postal Telegraph Company's office, on Market Street,
opposite Second Street, and other buildings adjoining. At this hour the
fire was about a mile and a quarter from my house. The Lick House and
the Masonic Temple were not on fire then. I next went to Pine and Dupont
Streets, and from that point could see that the Hall of justice and all
the buildings in that vicinity were on fire. Very few people were on the
street. Goldberg, Bowen & Co. were loading goods into wagons from their
store on Sutter Street, between Grant Avenue and Kearny. I attempted to
go in to speak to the salesman, with whom I was acquainted, but was
harshly driven away, by an officious policeman, as if I was endeavoring
to steal something. I came back to my house at 9:30 and found in the
library Mr. Wilcox and his mother, Mrs. Longstreet, Dr. and Mrs.
Whitney, Mrs. Hicks and her daughter, Sallie, Ruth, and Marie Louise.
They were all very much alarmed, as the information which they obtained
from the excited throng on the street was of the wildest kind. The two
automobiles and the Wilcox carriage stayed in front of the house all
night, at an expense of twenty-five dollars per hour for the carriage. I
felt tired, and went to bed at 11 P. M. and slept until 2:30 A. M. got
up and went down-town again to see what the situation was. I went to
California Street, then to Hyde, then to Pine. From Pine and Leavenworth
I could see that the fire was at that hour burning along O'Farrell from
Jones to Mason and on the east side of Mason Street. The St. Francis
Hotel was on fire. I went from Pine and Mason to the Fairmont Hotel at
California and Mason. The hill is very steep between these streets, and
many people, having exhausted themselves, were sleeping in the street on
the paving-stones and on mattresses. I did not think the fire would pass
beyond the Fairmont Hotel, as there was hundreds of feet of space
between the front or eastern side of the hotel, and any other building.
But the fire passed up beyond the hotel on Sacramento Street until it
reached a point where the hotel was at the leeward of the flames. The
hotel was not finished and in the northeast corner were kept the
varnishes and oils, which very much aided in the destruction of the
building. From California and Mason Streets I could see that old St.
Mary's Church, on the corner of California and Dupont Streets and Grace
Cathedral, on the corner of California and Stockton, were on fire. To
the north, Chinatown was in a whirlpool of fire. I returned home on
California Street and Van Ness Avenue. Both streets were thronged with
men, women, and children - some with bundles, packages, and
baby-carriages; but the usual method was to drag a trunk, which made a
harsh, scraping noise on the sidewalk. I overtook a man dragging a trunk
with a valise on the top which kept frequently falling off. As I
approached him I took the valise in my hand and with the other took hold
of the rope and helped him drag the heavy trunk. As we were strangers, I
am sure that he at first took me for a thief who intended to steal the
valise. I at once entered into conversation with him, and from his
manner later on I think he changed his mind, for when I left him a few
blocks away he was hearty in his thanks.
While passing the Knickerbocker Hotel, on Van Ness Avenue, I saw a party
of ladies and an elderly gentleman. They were very much excited and were
hesitating about returning to their rooms for their personal effects. I
stopped and assured them that they had plenty of time to go and return
as many times as they wished, as the fire would not reach Van Ness
Avenue for at least five hours. It did not reach there for thirteen
hours. I think I succeeded in quieting them, at least for a time.
When I arrived at Sacramento Street and Van Ness Avenue I saw a woman
tugging at a trunk which had caught on the car-track, and I helped her
release it. From the speed at which the fire was traveling I judged that
it could not reach that spot in many hours, I advised her, as she was
safe, not to over-exert herself, but to take frequent rests. She would
not take my advice and I was obliged to leave her.
The throng of moving people, men and women with babies and bird cages,
and everything which they held most valuable on earth, began early
Wednesday morning and continued until the afternoon of Thursday. Early
Thursday morning Mr. Wilcox, with his mother and sister, and Mrs. Hicks
and daughter left our house and were able to cross to Oakland, where
they got a train for Los Angeles. Dr. and Mrs. Whitney went to a
friend's house. Early in the morning I went over to the
California-Street power-house and had a talk with Superintendent Harris.
He said that he had run out 20 cars, but as the water was shut off and
very low in the boilers, it was not safe to get up steam, and he was
unable to get horses to haul away the cars; so nothing could be done but
await the result, which was that every car in the house and those in the
street, some of them eight blocks away, 52 in number, were all burned.
Not one was left. I came back to 1801 Van Ness Avenue. The wind was
light but was from the northwest. At 9 A. M. I sent in my son's
automobile my personal clothing, silverware, bedding, and linen to Mrs.
Oxnard's, 2104 Broadway, and at 10:30 I had the rugs and some other
things ready, and he took them to the Presidio. Matters about this time
began to be rather wild. Van Ness Avenue was filled with people, all
pale and earnest, every one loaded with bundles and dragging valises or
trunks.
We concluded that it was best for Mrs. Winslow and the children to leave
the city; so my son with his automobile took them to Burlingame. He had
but little gasoline in his machine, and it was very doubtful if he had
enough to make the run there and return. Not a drop could be obtained in
the city. He learned that it might be obtained at the Washington-Street
police station, so applied for some, but could get none, and barely
escaped the appropriation of his machine by the police, by saying that
he was preparing to take out of the city a load of women and children,
and starting up suddenly and getting out of their reach. So, with the
children, Mrs. Winslow, and a few articles of apparel hastily gathered
together, he, by a circuitous and zigzag route, out of the city, made
the trip and landed them safely in Burlingame at 4 o'clock. They could
get no accommodation at the club, so they accepted the hospitality of
Mr. and Mrs. Robert Coleman in a tent, and the next morning (Friday)
went to Mr. and Mrs. Will Tevis's. Their kitchen chimney had not fallen,
which made it possible to have cooking in the house, and as they had
wells, the men put the pumps in order; so they had the luxury of a bath.
When she left San Francisco she expected her own house and mine would
certainly be burned. So, with neither telephone, telegraph, nor mail,
she passed many anxious hours until Monday, the 23rd, when she heard
that both houses were saved.
At 11:30 A. M. of Thursday from my window I could see blazes on Jones
Street at Clay, and southerly as far as Sutter and Leavenworth. About
this hour, although the fire did not reach here until after 3 o'clock,
the soldiers and police drove the people from their stores and houses on
Polk Street. Johnson & Co. were ordered out and not permitted to return
to save books and papers, although they begged permission to do so. I
think the Pleasanton was on fire at about this time. At noon the flames
were continuous from Clay, on Jones, to California. At 1:30 it had
almost reached Hyde and Clay, and was continuous from that point to Polk
and Sutter, the blaze reaching from 50 to 75 feet high. At 2:30 it was
approaching Van Ness at Hyde and Washington, and reaching south as far
as Sutter and Van Ness. I was in my front room watching with my
field-glass, house after house take fire and the long line as I have
just described. I saw many pigeons flying wildly about, seeking some
place of safety. As it approached Van Ness it did not burn north of
Washington Street. The wind being northwest, and Van Ness Avenue 125
feet in width, I felt sure the fire would not cross. While the fire was
thus raging, the thought came to me, How fast in value is property being
consumed? - and as I looked at the line of flame, I remember I thought
it must be as much as a million dollars an hour. It shows how imperfect
in this matter was my estimate, when later the loss is estimated to be
four hundred millions, and the duration of the fire, from 5:15 A. M.,
the 18th to 3 P. M. of the 20th - say sixty hours, which would be at the
rate of about six million five hundred thousand per hour.
At 3 o'clock the soldiers drove the people north on Van Ness and west up
to Franklin Street, saying that they were going to dynamite the east
side of Van Ness. From my window I watched the movements of the
fire-fighters and dynamiters. They first set fire to every house on the
east side of Van Ness Avenue between Washington and Bush streets, and by
3:30 nearly every one was on fire. Their method was this: A soldier
would, with a vessel like a fruit-dish in his hand, containing some
inflammable stuff, enter the house, climb to the second floor, go to the
front window, open it, pull down the shade and curtain, and set fire to
the contents of his dish. In a short time the shades and curtain would
be in a blaze. When the fire started slowly, they would throw bricks and
stones up to the windows and break the glass to give it draught. It took
about 20 minutes for a building to get well on fire. From 4 to 4:30 St.
Luke's and the Presbyterian Church and all the houses on Van Ness Avenue
from Bush to Washington were on fire. At about this time they began
dynamiting. Then they started backfiring, and, as the line, of fire was
at Polk Street, the idea was to meet the flames and not allow them to
cross Van Ness Avenue. This was a great mistake, as it caused the whole
of the blocks between those streets to be on fire at once, which made an
intense heat, while if allowed to approach Van Ness from Polk Street the
heat would have been much less, and would not have ignited the west side
of Van Ness. The explosions of dynamite were felt fearfully in my house;
those within two blocks would jar and shake the house violently,
breaking the windows, and at the same time setting off the burglar
alarm. As the windows would break it tore the shades and curtains,
covered the floor with glass, and cracked the walls. After it was over I
found that it had demolished in my house twelve plates and fifty-four
sheets of glass, each measuring about thirty by fifty inches.
At 4:45 1 was ordered out of my house by the soldiers, - not in a quiet
manner, but with an order that there was no mistaking its terms and
meaning, - about like this: "Get out of this house!" I replied: "But
this is my house and I have a right to stay here if I choose." "Get out
d--n quick, and make no talk about it, either!" So a soldier with a
bayonet on his gun marched me up Clay Street to Gough amid flames,
smoke, and explosions. Feeling exhausted from climbing the steep street,
and when within one hundred feet of Gough Street I rested on a doorstep.
I had not been there for more than two minutes before a soldier on the
opposite side of the street leveled his gun and cried out, "Get out of
that old man, and go up on to Gough Street." As he had a loaded gun, and
appeared very important, I quickly obeyed his polite order. As I
reluctantly ascended Clay Street in charge of the soldier, I held back
long enough to see the steeple of the Presbyterian Church fall. I stayed
at Gough Street a while, looking down upon my house, expecting every
minute to see the flames coming out of it. I watched from Gough Street
with much anxiety, and made up my mind that I would see if I could not
get back into my house, for I believed I could save it. The heat was so
intense that it had driven the guards away from Van Ness Avenue; so,
seeing no one near, I quietly slipped down the north side of Washington
Street to Franklin. As no one was around there, I continued to
Washington and Van Ness and, putting up my coat-collar and protecting
the side of my face with my hat, I ran along Van Ness to my front door
and quickly got into the house again at 5:40, being kept out fifty-five
minutes. My clothing got very hot but was not scorched. This I did at a
great risk of my life, for these soldiers were very arrogant and
consequential at having a little brief authority, and I was afraid they
would not hesitate to shoot on slight provocation. I felt provoked and
disgusted that I had to take such a risk to enter my own house. When I
returned, Mr. Merrill's house had been dynamited, and the two churches,
St. Luke's and the First Presbyterian, the Bradbury house at the corner
of Van Ness and California Street, and the Knickerbocker Hotel
adjoining, and the Gunn house, corner of Clay and Franklin, had shared
the same fate.