This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1889 edition. Excerpt: ...that I am about done for." He was carried to the hospital by several soldiers and railroad men who rescued him. WHAT TWO CHICAGO MEN PASSED THROUGH. Frank B. Felt and Sidney McCloud of Chicago happened to be in the doomed city on that fatal Friday, when it was buried beneath the waters of the flood. ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1889 edition. Excerpt: ...that I am about done for." He was carried to the hospital by several soldiers and railroad men who rescued him. WHAT TWO CHICAGO MEN PASSED THROUGH. Frank B. Felt and Sidney McCloud of Chicago happened to be in the doomed city on that fatal Friday, when it was buried beneath the waters of the flood. They were stopping at the Hurlbert House, and in the course of the day they had passed over the principal part of the town and noticed that it was full of people. Though the waters swelled, no one seemed to be alarmed. As the first stories were filled by the flood, people moved up higher, but there was no thought of flight. The residents accustomed to the same thing annually seemed prepared to meet it with perfect indifference. This was undoubtedly the cause of the great loss of life. People clung to their houses instead of flying to the safety of the surrounding hills. While in a restaurant on Clinton street, they saw people running by with pallid faces. Everybody in the restaurant appeared to divine the cause and rushed to the street, except Messrs. Felt and McCloud, who accidentally ran out into the alley at the rear. That accident probably saved their lives, for it was the direct route to Green Hill, which occupies one side of a triangle formed by it, the Conemaugh river and Stony Creek. As they looked toward the Conemaugh they beheld a green wall of water thirty or forty feet in height, bringing down the wrecked homes of the upper settlements of the valley. A sort of gray mist resembling dust, hung over the face of the wave like a veil, and Mr. Felt thinks it was dust in reality, rising out of the riven and dislocated timbers which so shortly before had sheltered happy homes. When the great wave reached the triangular plain on which...
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