Chapter 10 #2
She flattened her palm against her stomach.
“Miss Clara Barton has sent a telegram to the surgeon general requesting his presence. However, it could be days before he arrives with disinfectants. Clean your hands thoroughly before eating. Be careful using any utensils from the commissary. Be certain they’ve cleaned them.
Don’t use any communal cups at water stations.
If you come across anyone with symptoms, send them here. ”
“I will.”
She continued into the tent with the Red Cross flag flying at its peak. A woman sat behind a crate she used as a desk. “Hetty, I need to find accommodations for Pastor Childs, please.”
The woman looked up from her papers and rubbed her temple. “You’re only the hundredth person to ask me to work a miracle in the last hour.”
Annamae raised her pert little chin. “I’ve thoroughly examined the pastor and deemed him healthy. Can you not find room for him in one of the buildings still standing? I heard Miss Barton say they’ve turned them into havens until the hotels are finished.”
The woman sighed. “They’re already full.
Alma Hall is housing two hundred and forty-nine and informed us there’s not room for even one more body.
” She set her pencil down. “The churches, apartments, and tenement houses that survived are also full. I heard more tents are being erected beside the old woolen mill this morning. Check there.”
Monty thanked the woman, and they left.
“I apologize for that outcome,” Annamae said. “I hope you’re able to find lodging.”
The dejection in her words eased the tightness in his chest. She genuinely cared where he laid his head tonight, which made his homeless state a little less bleak.
“I appreciate your efforts, but I believe I’ll stay at the church.” He ran a hand along the linen shirt packed into a neat square. “The Lord has promised to give the weary rest. What better place than in His house? Besides, I’ve got to go back and face it sometime.”
Though he had to admit he was reluctant to slide his neck into the yoke of cleaning and restoring it all.
Her lips pursed in concentration. “One night when Miss Barton and I were working late, I asked about her time during the war and how—with all the different wounds and lives fading around her—she even knew where to begin and how best to help the soldiers. She answered, ‘All a body can do is focus on what can be accomplished each day. Take care physically and spiritually so one can be of service to others. And most importantly, remember who holds the entire world in His hands.’ ”
Monty swallowed the truth hard, emotions coming fast. “You’ve been a godsend, Miss Annamae.”
Before she could reply, he headed for the church.
The steeple had always been his compass in the booming town, but now it was broken like everything else. Franklin Street, along with many others, was unrecognizable, so he walked in what he hoped was the general direction of Macedonia Street until he spotted the familiar roofline.
His search for Cyrus Elder could take days, if the man was even alive. But find him he would. Everyone in this town deserved answers, and Cyrus was the closest thing they had to the club members at the moment. However, it could wait.
Clutching the bundle to his side, Monty trekked up the incline of rubble.
The cat trotted east to the hills, likely searching for a rodent to prey upon.
Folks nodded or waved as he passed as if relieved to see another soul they recognized alive.
As he neared the church, he saw more men clearing the destruction.
“Pastor!” Kenneth Breslin threw down his saw and jumped out of a fallen tree that had crushed the iron fence behind the church. It surrounded the small cemetery of the town’s founders, but many of the granite headstones were crushed or had been washed away.
At least ten other men in his congregation filed from elsewhere on the grounds to join them.
Kenneth’s smile almost reached his ears.
“Glad to see you alive, Pastor. No one seemed to know if you’d gone down or not.
Ernie said he saw you the next day, but no one knew whether to believe him.
Showed up to help clean, breath stinking of whisky. ”
Monty searched the faces. Several yards away, Ernie stumbled from the side of the church where Monty’s house had been forced against it, shaky hand gripping a shovel.
“Ernie saw me,” Monty said, only for Kenneth’s ears. “He might imbibe, but he’s not a liar. You all don’t give him enough credit.” Monty glanced around. “What’s the state of everyone’s family?”
Kenneth turned his head and spit. “William put his wife and baby on a train as soon as the waters started rising Friday morning. They’re safe in Philadelphia.
James lost his mother, as she was ailing and couldn’t get out of bed to run.
Robert’s still looking for his two boys.
Said he’d be over after he’s checked all the morgues again today.
Fred’s wife was walking to her sister’s house higher on the hill when the wave swept her away. And Ernie ain’t got nobody.”
Likely the reason he drank.
“Any word on damage to the rest of the area?”
“Men from the newspapers arrived almost immediately. They’re reporting minor damage to South Fork.
The planing mill and viaduct were destroyed.
Sixteen died in Mineral Point. The wave took everything away, so there’s no telling there was even once a town there.
The roundhouse and depot at East Conemaugh are gone, and in Woodvale, it wiped out the Gautier works, the tannery, the streetcar shed, and most every resident. ”
Good heavens. The water consumed the entire hillside then. Monty ran a hand down his face. “What’s everyone doing here?”
Jim Parkes laid a hand on Monty’s shoulder.
“All our homes are gone except Ted’s, and his is barely standing.
But we’re alive. You’ve done so much for us, Pastor, we thought we’d start with cleaning your place.
And the church. We’ll be needing spiritual bread while we rebuild this town and try to make sense of all this. ”
Hot tears filled Monty’s eyes. These men had lost nearly everything, and their first thought after their own families was for him and the church.
Shame burned deep in Monty’s gut for avoiding his position over the last few days.
He didn’t know how he would begin ministering to these men in the wake of this disaster, but he owed it to them to try.
He wiped his damp eyes and sniffed. “Thanks, fellas. Let’s get to work.”