First Anniversary of the 1900 Storm

There are many accounts of the 1900 Storm and the immediate aftermath. But like all natural disasters, the news fades and the tragedy is soon replaced by more current events, even while those directly affected work to rebuild their lives. Even one short year after the worst natural disaster to occur on American soil, the memory was overshadowed by the assassination attempt on William McKinley just two days prior. The women of Galveston saw to it that the occasion was properly observed. The Women's Health Protective Association organized a religious memorial on the site of the Lucas Terrace where it has been speculated that hundreds may have died but was also the site of one of the most remarkable tales of survival.

This photo is from the personal effect of Alice Lucas, daughter of Thomas Lucas. It was located during research at the Baptist Archives in Nashville, TN. It is quite possible that this photo has never been shared outside of the Lucas family until now.

It must be pointed out that despite the numerous contributions of the women of Galveston during the storm and as part of the recovery, the following article written about the event only speaks to the heroics of the men. Women of all classes rolled up their sleeves to tend to the injured and dying, they brought in the Red Cross, they lobbied the state for funds and worked tirelessly to feed and support the families who had lost everything. Even the planting of the cedars and oleanders as discussed in the article was a purposeful attempt to shame city leaders into funding the seawall construction because women could not vote.

An estimated 7,000 people attended the event which would have been over thirty percent of Galveston's population at the time.

The following article appeared in the Galveston Daily News on September 9, 1901

PLANTING CEDARS

BEAUTIFUL CEREMONY PERFORMED

YESTERDAY IN MEMORY OF

THE CATACLYSM

ON EAST GULF BEACH

SITE CHOSEN FOR SERVICES WAS

THE HISTORICAL LUCAS

TERRACE.

WITNESSED BY 7000 PEOPLE

Children Planted Cedars and Oleanders in Token of a More Substantial

Protection From the Sea.

A stand of rough boards decorated with flowers of many kinds from many portions of the State of Texas faced a crowd of some 7000 people at the foot of Broadway yesterday afternoon.  The stand was the rostrum from which leading men of Galveston addressed the great multitude that had assembled in memoriam. The flowers were the tributes from loving friends from different towns in the State, and at the close of the ceremonies these were taken by those who had lost friends or relatives in the storm of a year ago with the intention of placing them on the graves of those friends.

The site selected for the rostrum has been pictured in every magazine and paper that handled pictures of the Galveston storm. It is in that little room in Lucas Terrace that held the lives of 23 people while all about them were the perishing swept to their deaths by the wind and the waves. Perched on the ruined walls of that remnant of a splendid terrace were many who found an excellent view place. About the lot enclosed with a board fence a large number stood or improvised seats. Out in the street, Broadway, for a half block in each direction the crowd was packed in with buggies and vehicles of various kinds. The lemonade venders did a fair business, but the cool breeze that came from off the surging waters, and the general temperature was not conducive to much thirst. These venders were enterprising and had put up tents to shield their patrons from the rays of the sun.

The hour was historical. It was between 5 and 6 O'clock of a year ago last evening that the storm began to strike terror to the citizens who had previously said it could not be worse than 1875. It was in that hour that it became worse than during any previous storm, and in the hours that followed all the anguish was done.

The committee and speakers occupied the platform. Mr. Jens Moller was chairman and on the platform were Rev. W. M. Harris, Rev. Dr. Henry Cohen, Rev. Father J. M. Kirwin, Mr. George Sealy, Colonel R. G. Street, Mr. H. A.  Landes, Dr. Edward Randall and Mr. Thomas Lucas, the builder of the historical terrace and its owner. The ceremonies were under the auspices of the Women’s Health Protective Association, of whom these gentlemen were committeemen.

Dr. Moller, in opening the exercises, said: "We are assembled here by invitation of the association of noblest women, and there are lots of them. In Galveston, shortly after the storm these noble women joined themselves together under the name of the Women's Health Protective Association, and as such they have visited our jails, if you please, and have looked after the cleanliness of our alleys and streets, and have been a power for good in our town. After the ceremonies here, under the leadership of the military, we will proceed to the sandhills and plant cedars and oleanders as a token of the more substantial protection against the encroachments of the sea in future. This is by nature a religious ceremony, but these women have the right, as they have many rights in other directions, to demand of us as men to ask of us as voters to vote day after tomorrow for those men who will help to rehabilitate and restore this town to a place not hitherto attained."

Mr. Moller then introduced Dr. Cohen, who led in prayer, praying especially or the recovery of the President of the United States, the entire uprooting of anarchy in this and all countries, and the comforting of Mrs. McKinley, asking that strength be given her to stand the shock and the strain. He prayed also that the hearts of those who had suffered by the storm should be made easy.

***

Mr. Moller then introduced Colonel Street, who spoke as follows:

“The true story of the ‘Great Galveston Storm’ has never been told, and never will be. No one saw it. Of the 40,000 inhabitants of this city, none, either of the 6000 dead or of the survivors saw aught but what was within his scope of vision when danger first became apparent. From that moment, from 6 to 9 O'clock, with the increasing violence of the wind and rapid rise of the water, no voluntary change of position was possible and the mingled darkness of the storm and of night shut out all beyond the narrowest limits from his sight.

Contributing to the same result, and also to largely increasing the number of deaths by inducing delay until too late in seeking places of greater safety than their own homes, was the universal feeling of confidence and security, the outgrowth of long experience confirmed by an entire agreement of scientific opinion; in effect, that the geographical position of the city exempted it from liability to West Indian hurricanes, while the gradual slope of the sea bottom at the rate of 10 feet to the mile from the shore line furnished substantial protection against the violence of sea action. Unconsciously we had become accustomed to consider non-liability as equivalent to perfect immunity.

Any representation, even on broad lines, of that awful night, must be a composite picture made up of experience of a large number of survivors from all parts of the city; and especially from all prominent points of refuge and rescue or general disaster.

The building known as the Lucas Terrace, amidst whose ruins these ceremonies are held, belongs to this class. It stood on a point of some natural elevation, increased by filling and secured by strong brick curbing. It was built of brick, three stories high, 120 feet in depth by some 60 feet front. Nothing intervened between it and the Gulf. It was intended to be rented in flats and was occupied by a number of families. Before 6 O'clock probably 200 persons had sought refuge here. By that hour flight was no longer possible, and danger evident and momentarily increasing. There remained then 76 in all within its walls. At half past 8 came the climax of the combined violence of wind and wave. The foundation did not give away. The walls were not crushed in; but the roof was lifted from the building and then let fall crashing its way to the bottom through demolished walls and floors. Fifty-three perished; 23 were saved by taking refuge in that small interior, still standing, which on less evidence it would be impossible to believe could either contain that number or itself survive the storm.

Had I the power to depict the agony and suspense through which they passed, by using it to harrow up your feelings I would betray the trust reposed in me by those at whose invitation I speak.

Gladly would I, if time permitted, rehearse some of the deeds of heroism, of loving self-sacrifice and devotion enacted here in that supreme hour. Though I must forego this I am consoled by an unshaken belief that everything good and noble possesses in itself a survivorship as eternal as the years of God.

Delivered from the days of fear and superstition when great calamities were regarded as punishments for sins against the gods or warnings to enforce future obedience, the idea of any special spiritual significance will not be entertained when intelligence is able, as here, to determine the natural causes of the storm's origin, trace its course from the coast of Porto Rico to its entrance into the Gulf, and thence until it precipitated itself, with greatly added fury, on the Texas Coast at this point – unusual or phenomenal as the combination of causes producing these results may be.

But here as elsewhere we should profit by experience. We should build stronger and on higher ground. Elevate the Gulf front of the city, and construct a break- water similar to our sea jetties to destroy the violence of wave action. We were united then. We were united afterwards in our efforts to relieve distress. We have been united since in the courage with which we have sought to restore and rebuild our city. The hearts of all Galveston should be melted in a common sympathy by common suffering. Adversity has its uses. Let us be united now in pride and in love for our city, and, as the gaze of mankind is fixed on it as the scene of one of the world's greatest tragedies, let us strive by harmonious and intelligent action devoted to its restoration, its security, its progress and good government, to make it also the wonder and admiration of the world.

Never was there a more pathetic scene than this, the women of Galveston, joined by the children, uniting to hold at this spot these ceremonies over our dead and initiating the effort for protection by planting salt cedars and oleanders along the margin of the Gulf, seeking thus to offer some barrier to the fury of the sea. Are there those who would discourage this effort because of its feebleness considered in relation to the mighty force to which it is opposed? It is all the women and children can do. Go, carping critics, and do as well! It should be regarded as sacred. It should be completed and protected by law. It is typical and emblematical. It points the way. And as long as there is manhood, honor and loyalty among men it will be an inspiration to the men of Galveston, rising above all petty considerations, to unite together for the welfare and security of their sadly stricken, but still dearly loved, city.

Oh sea, so calm and beautiful! Oh, ye elements, so divinely mixed, that didst so minister to our delight and persuade to ease and security! Oh, sea, cruel and treacherous! Angry skies and furious winds that in an hour by fell conspiracy and combination didst crush and swallow up in death 6000 of our fellow citizens and destroy and devastate our homes!

Though we live in days that shall be famous in the procession of the ages for the control acquired by man over natural forces, yet, us mere materialists, we  should be constrained to acknowledge the insignificance of man in view of his inability to quell seismic disturbances in the bowels of the earth, to quiet the upheaval of the seas or still the tempest's furious blast.

But, exhausted by their own momentary fury, the waters sink back to their ac-customed bed; and the wind sighs a requiem over its own departed strength; while the immortal spirit of man beholds, undismayed, the wrack of worlds and the crush of matter in their train.

The poet has prefigured this sublime scene in the contest between the Last Man and the Sun, last remaining object of the physical world:

All worldly shapes must melt in gloom,

    The Sun himself must die,

Before this mortal shall assume

    Its Immortality!

I saw a vision in my sleep

That gave my spirits strength to sweep

    Adown the gulf of time!

I saw the last of human

That shall Creation's death behold,

    As Adam saw her prime!

The Sun's eve had a sickly glare,

    The Earth with age was wan,

The skeletons of the nations were

    Around that lonely man!

Some had expired in fight—the brands

Still rusted in their bony hands;

    In plague and famine some!Earth's cities had no sound nor tread;

And ships were drifting with the dead   To shores where all were dumb!

Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood

   With dauntless words and high,

Saying, "We are twins in death, proud Sun,

   Thy face is cold, thy race is run.

Go, tell the night that hides thy face,Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race,  On Earth's sepulchral clod,The darkening universe defyTo quench his Immortality,  Or shake his trust in God!"

***

As Colonel Street referred at some length to the Lucas Terrace disaster, it is fitting that the names of those saved; compiled by Mr. Lucas and handed to a News man yesterday, should be published here. These names are as follows:  Mr. and Mrs. Baker, Mr. and Mrs. Hesse and Vernon. Mr. and Mrs. Brown and baby, young man (name unknown), Mrs. Savago and three children, Mrs. Thorne and two children, Miss Jennie Thorne, Mrs. Alfred

Lucas and child, Mr. Greenwood, Mrs. Foster, Lena Thoms, Mrs. Locket. Total, 23.

***

At the conclusion of Colonel Street's address Father Kirwin spoke as follows:

I like this ceremony by the sighing sea. It somehow recalls with added meaning the poet’s words:

"There are spots by the deep blue sea,

     ‘Neath the gold Southern skies,

Where at rest after life's long restlessness

     A countless number lies and the ripple of

              many waves

Makes caseless musing near their graves."

And whilst many plans have been evolved and presented whereby a united citizenship might display their love and respect for the storm stricken dead of our island home, I feel that the noble women of the Health Protection Association have caught the religious and poetic idea and that we have

assembled here to voice it, as much by humble prayer and meditative silence as by oratory, however eloquent.

"The world may give in its pomp and pride,

A tablet of marble cold and deep in memory noble lives,

By letters cut deep in gold,

But the murmuring soft of the tideless sеа

And the flowers twining the grave for me."

The ocean is the great image of eternity as well as of floating time, change and unrest.  It is a vast and wondrous realm of mystery, a type of God's boundless might, and tho a righteous fear it embodies, awes and purifies the heart of man, and here beside it we seem to catch the echoes today of the mighty multitudinous tones with which It sang the requiem of our thousands dead a year ago.

Hearts that are human love the dead. Human hearts have loved the dead, whether by teeming Nile or yellow Tiber, or deadly Ganges, in the past as deeply and as truly as we love them now in their rest in great cemeteries or hillside church yards. The graveyard is God's acre, for the grain furrowed therein, and as long as human hearts love and are beloved, as long as they keep with them the memories of bygone things so long shall the dead find their place in the passing years. When our seagirt home was winnowed by death, us a thresher’s floor, a year since it awakened the world's pity and aroused the world’s sorrow. Few were here who did not for the moment despair. But out of the not for moment despair. But out of the darkness of desolation and death the glorious sunshine of hope arose, and we have basked in its rays today, while we meditated upon the devastation of a year ago. A herculean task awaited heroic men a year ago. We thank God that "weighed in the balance we were not found wanting,” that our entire citizenship by their hardy courage and heroic perseverance have won the world's admiration. We thank the world for its tender solicitude and provident care of our helpless and afflicted, for the extended hand of charity and the encouraging message of faith that enabled us to arise above the storm king's destruction. And if death was so plenteous and destruction so dire that the world stood aghast, it is only right and proper that we should commemorate our dear departed. For a year now we have heard their cries the moans coming through the sobbing night rain and we pause from our labor on this anniversary Sabbath and supplicate the pity and pardon of the eternal Father upon them. May they, hurriedly ushered before the throne of God find pity and pardon and peace, and may they intercede for us that morally, spiritually and physically this “sorrows crown of sorrows” may be our uplifting. May the innocent little ones uplift their voices, the helpless woman cry out before the throne of God and the strong, heroic men, who gave their lives  others might live, petition for us, that God’s power will lead us on o’er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent till the night is gone and with the morn those angel faces smile, which we have loved long since and lost awhile!

***

Dr. Harris led in prayer, and, after the singing of the doxology, the slips of cedar and oleander were taken by the members of the children's auxiliary of the Women's Health Protective Association and carried to the beach, where they were stuck into the sand. The flowers were taken by most of those present.