Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“During all this solemn Sunday, Johnstown has been drenched with the tears of stricken mortals, and the air is filled with sobs and sighs that come from breaking hearts.”
~City Solicitor Keuhn, when asked to estimate the damage of Johnstown
Annamae woke to glorious sunshine streaming through her bedroom window.
Eyelids fluttering against the brightness, she smiled, relishing the warmth bathing her face.
It had rained for a week straight, oppressing not only the land but her spirit.
People needed sunshine. It lifted spirits, provided nutrients, helped the sickly to—
She jerked upright. Sunlight. She’d overslept!
After throwing the blankets aside, she wiggled her legs free of her tangled nightdress and crossed the room to the bureau for her timepiece. She groaned. Her internal clock normally wouldn’t let her sleep past sunrise. In all her years of nursing, she’d never reported late.
Her stomach soured at the scolding that was sure to come if Miss Barton discovered Annamae’s indiscretion. One did not want to disappoint Clara Barton. Especially when she’d been chosen over dozens of other nurses who’d applied to assist the Red Cross as a first responder during an emergency.
As fast as she could, she dressed, brushed and pinned her hair, tied a white apron over her brown dress, added her matching cap, and secured her shoes.
Always tidy to a fault, she ignored her messy bed, slipped her coin purse into her pocket, and locked the door behind her.
Though she enjoyed walking the mile to the hospital on sunny days, she’d take the streetcar this morning.
She raced down the two flights of stairs, threw open the door, and jolted to a stop.
A sparkling lake covered D Street and most of the Washington Monument grounds.
On Ohio Avenue, the water was almost as high as the first-story windows on the buildings.
She’d seen the Potomac flood many times but never high enough to reach the monument.
To the west, children splashed in water that touched their knees.
Laughter bounced off the brick structures.
The water wasn’t as high on her end of D Street, but upon closer inspection, she discovered it contained bits of muck and debris floating in it.
If the smell was any indication, the sewers had filled with river water and the contents were leeching up into the streets.
She wished people were more concerned about situations that could cause contamination and infection.
She’d like to give the parents of those children an earful for allowing them to play in such impure conditions.
Someday, perhaps, the medical field would create a medication that could battle the diseases caused by such bacteria. For now, cleanliness and avoidance were key.
She sighed. Unless they were patients in her hospital, she could no more tell those parents how to care for their children than she could tell President Harrison how to run the country. What she could do was find a way to the hospital for her shift. Doctor Martin was expecting her.
A horse and wagon plodded down 13th Street, sending sprays of water into the air with each step.
The water wasn’t higher than the mare’s pastern, but it was too deep for Annamae to walk through.
She didn’t know who the man was or where he was going, but maybe he’d allow her to ride along.
She held out her arm and waved to gain the driver’s attention.
At first glance, he turned away. Then his gaze swiveled to her again, and he nudged the horse closer to the street’s edge.
“Whoa,” he commanded the beast.
Annamae raised her skirt and skittered to avoid the tide soaking into her boots and uniform.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” His gray mustache was unkempt and touched the inside of his nose.
“I’m a nurse at Jericho Square Hospital. They’re expecting me, and I have no way of traveling through this water to get there. I know it’s a lot to ask of a stranger, but for the good of those poor souls awaiting my services, would you be so kind as to drive me?”
The portly man took off his hat, scratched his nearly balding head, and plopped it back on.
“Well now, I suppose I can drive you as far as I can, but the streets south of here are under four feet of water, as well as most of Pennsylvania Avenue. The Potomac spilled into the Government Fishpond, and now fish are swimming all over this city. A carp two feet long was caught in the ladies’ waiting room at the Baltimore and Potomac station. ”
“Oh my.” She could hardly imagine it. Annamae lifted her hand so he could assist her into the wagon, unsure if he was in earnest or an amazing storyteller. She perched on the bench beside him. “As close as you can get will do. Thank you, Mr… .”
“Elijah Kesbernan. And you are?”
Late for work. “Miss Annamae Worthington.”
He tipped his hat and set the horse into motion. “Well now, Miss Worthington, I’m not sure what you’re going to do once we reach the crossroads. Are you a good swimmer?”
He chuckled, and she smiled out of politeness. Of course she could swim, but that was out of the question.
Folks went about their business despite the situation, mostly men.
The few women who had ventured out either held their hems indecently high to avoid saturation or let their skirts soak the water clear up to their thighs.
Annamae was determined to report to her shift and do so spotlessly, if it was the last thing she did.
Two blocks south, the water had grown as high as the mare’s knees, and Mr. Kesbernan slowed to a stop. “Sorry I can’t get you farther, Miss Worthington, but the high water is carrying all kinds of debris, and I can’t chance injuring my horse.”
“I understand.” She looked around for a patch of dry ground on which to disembark. Boards and small items of all kinds floated in the water, but there was no place for her to land. “I wonder where all this debris came from.”
“The Potomac is rushing so forcefully, it’s knocked down every shanty on the river’s edge. The mills and the fertilizing works are half underwater too. All kinds of things are washing up.”
The river was always so calm, she could hardly believe it. “Has it really rained that much?”
His head tipped to the side. “Didn’t you hear? The South Fork Dam at Lake Conemaugh burst and destroyed what was Johnstown, Pennsylvania.”
“What was?”
“The whole city is gone. This morning’s paper estimates the deceased to be in the thousands.”
Annamae’s heart sank. “That must be at least a hundred miles from here. All this water can’t possibly be from that. Can it?”
“More like two hundred. The paper says the telegrams from Pittsburgh reported that when the dam broke, a wall of water close to sixty feet high raced down the mountain. All that flows southeast and combines with our already swollen waters, spelling disaster for us too.”
He handed her a folded newspaper he retrieved from his coat pocket.
She skimmed the article that reiterated everything he’d just relayed as well as detailing the hundreds of houses and thousands of animal carcasses and human bodies that had traveled the tributaries for miles.
All of Johnstown was destroyed in a matter of minutes.
Lord, have mercy.
Reporting to the hospital was vital now. If Johnstown was declared an emergency, and it needed to be, Miss Barton would call for her right away.
Annamae looked for another way to get to the hospital. Finding none, her frustration grew. She would be of no use to anyone if she arrived wet and filthy with nothing clean and dry to change into.
Movement caught her attention at the intersection of C Street and Louisiana Avenue. A rowboat floated down the usually crowded street. Both passengers cradled fishing poles. Annamae stood in the stationary wagon and waved her arms. “Hello there. Please, help me.”
She turned to Mr. Kesbernan. “Would you be willing to go just a little farther? I believe them to be my only hope of getting to the hospital.”
Mr. Kesbernan worked his lips beneath his mustache. The end of his red nose twitched. “Well now, I suppose I can. Best have a seat though.”
She obeyed, and he inched the horse and wagon forward while the men paddled their direction.
At their approach, Annamae realized there were more than two men in the boat.
A little girl, about age four, Annamae guessed, sat directly behind the lead man, clutching her doll.
Upon closer inspection, the other adult passenger wasn’t a man at all but a woman in a dark brown dress tucked around her legs to reveal their shape.
No hat. The woman’s hair was pulled so severely into a bun it tugged the skin around her eyes.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?” This gentleman had a mustache as well, but it was coal black. His blue eyes assessed Mr. Kesbernan as if looking for injury or danger.
“Could I trouble you for a ride to Jericho Square Hospital?” Annamae asked. “I’ll gladly pay you what I’d planned to spend on the streetcar.”
A deep wrinkle formed between the man’s eyebrows as his gaze raked over her cap and apron. “Jah, come aboard.”
He and Mr. Kesbernan assisted her into the boat. She bit back a squeal as her weight caused it to teeter. The girl giggled. The woman scooted over, making room for Annamae.
Mr. Kesbernan refused her offer of payment, wished them all a good day, and tugged on the reins. He turned his horse around and continued the way they’d come. The man guiding the boat swiveled to her and said, “Is it the hospital on 6th and Pennsylvania?”
“Yes, that’s it. Thank you, sir.” Annamae smiled at the little girl and engaged the woman in conversation as they rowed through the city.
For a moment, she felt as if she were a character in The Merchant of Venice, enjoying a gondola ride through the watery streets.
Such a thing was too bizarre for the capital city, and the moment didn’t last.