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Now the Special English Program, American Stories.
The western American city of San Francisco, California suffered huge earthquake on April 18, 1906. More than 3000 people are known to have died. The true number of dead will never be known. 215,000 people lost their homes. Just a few hours after the terrible earthquake, a magazine called Coleus sent a telegraph message to the famous American writer, Jack London. They asked Mr. London to go to San Francisco and report about what he saw. He arrived in the city only a few hours after the earthquake. The report he wrote is called the story of eye witness. Here is Doug Johnson with the story.
Not in history, has a modern city been so completely destroyed. San Francisco was gone. Nothing was remains of it, but memories and a few homes that were near the edge of city. Its industrial area is gone. Its business area is gone. Its social and living area is gone. The factories, great stores and newspaper buildings, hotels, and huge homes of the very rich are all gone. Within minutes of earthquake, the fires began. Within an hour, huge tower of smoke caused by the fires could be seen a hundreds of miles away. And for three days and nights, this huge fire moved in the sky, reddening the sun, darkening the day and filling the land with smoke. There was no opposing of flames. There was no organization, no communication. The earthquake had mashed all the modern inventions of the twenty century city. The streets were broken and fell with pieces of fallen walls. The telephone and telegraph systems were broken and great pipes had burst. All inventions and safety plans of man had been destroyed by thirty seconds of movement by the earth.
By Wednesday afternoon, only twelve hours after the earthquake, half the heart of city was gone. I watched the huge fire. It was very calm. There was no wind, yet for every side, wind was pouring in upon the city, east, west, north and south. Strong winds were blowing upon the dieing city. The heated air made a huge wind that poured air into the fire rising into the atmosphere. Day and night, the calm continued and yet near the flames, the wind was often as strong as a storm.
There was no water to fight the fire. Firefighters decided to use explosive to destroy buildings in its path. They hoped this would create a block to slow or stop the fire, Building after building was destroyed. And still the great fires continued. Jack London told how people try to save some of their possessions from the fire.
Wednesday night, the whole city crushed in all into ruin. Yet the city was quiet. There were no crowds. There was no shouting and yelling. There was no disorder. I passed Wednesday night in the path of fire in all those terrible hours. I saw not one woman cried, not one man who was excited, not one person who caused trouble. Through up the night, tens of thousands of homeless ones fled the fire. Some were wrapping blankets, others carried bedding and dear household treasures. Many of the poor left their home with everything they could carry. Many of their loads were extremely heavy. Through up the night, they dropped items they could no longer hold. They left on the street clothing and treasures they had carried for miles. Many carried large boxes called trunks. They held on to these for longest. It was a hard night and hills of San Francisco are steep. Up these hills, mile after mile were the trunks drag. Many a strong men broke his heart that night. Before the march of the fire were soldiers. Their job was to keep the people moving away from the fire. Extremely tired people would rise and struggle up the steep hills pausing from weakness every five or ten feet. Often, after reaching the top of hot breaking hill, they would find the fire was moving at them from different direction. After working hour after hour through the night to save part of their lives, thousands were forced to leave their trunks and flee.
At night, I walked down through the very hot of the city. I walked through mile after mile of beautiful buildings, here was no fire or was in perfect order. The police patrolled the streets. And yet it was all doomed, all of it. And there was no water. Explosives were almost used up and two huge fires were coming to this part of the city from different directions.
4 hours later, I walked through the same part of the city. Everything still stood as before, and yet there was a change. A rain of ashes was falling. The police had been withdrawn.
There were no firemen, no fire engines, and no men using explosives.
I stood at a corner of keerly and marked streets in the very heart of San Francisco. Nothing could be done, nothing could be saved. The surrender was complete.
It was impossible to guess where the fire would move next. In the early evening, I passed the Union square. It was pat with refugees. Thousands of them had gone to bed on the grass. Government tents had been set up, food was been cooked and refugees were lighting up for free meals. Late that night, I passed Union square again. 3 sides of the square were in flames. The square with lots of trunks was deserted. The troops, refugees and all had retreated. The next morning, I sat in front of home on San Francisco’s famous numb hill, with me, sat Japanese, Italians, Chinese, and Negroes. All about were the huge homes of very rich. To the east and south of us were advancing two huge walls of fire.
I went inside one house and talked to the owner. He smiled and said the earthquake had destroyed everything he owned. All he had left was his beautiful house. He looked at me and said the fire would be here in 15 minutes. Outside the house, the troops were falling back and forcing the refugees ahead of them. From every side came the roaring flames, the crushing walls and sound of explosions. Day was trying to down through the heavy smoke.
A thick lit light was creeping over the face of things when the sun broke through the smoke.
It was blood red and small. The smoke changed color from red to rose to purple.
I walked pass the broken doom city hall building. This part of city was already waste of smoking ruins.
Here and there, came a few men and women. It was like the meeting of a few survivals the day after the world ended. The huge fires continued to burn on. Nothing could stop them. Mr. London walked from places to places in the city, watching the huge fires destroy the city. Nothing could be done to halt the fire storm. In the end, the fire went out by itself because there was nothing left to burn. Jack London finishes his story.
All day Thursday, and all Thursday night, all day Friday and Friday night, the flames raged on. Friday night, saw the huge fires finally conquered but not before the fires had swept 3 quarters of miles of docks and store houses on water flood.
San Francisco at present time was like a center of volcano. Around this volcano are tens of thousands of refugees. All these rounding cities and towns are jammed with the homeless ones. The refugees were carried free by the railroads to any place they wish to go. It is said that more than 100,000 people have left the peninsula on which San Francisco Stood The government has controlled the situation and thanks to the immediate relief given by the whole United States there was no lack of food. The bankers and businessmen have already begun making necessary plan to rebuild this once beautiful city, San Francisco
You have just heard the story of eye witness. It was written by Jack London and adapted for Special English by Paul Thompson. It was published in Coleus magazine, May 15, 1906. Your narrator was Doug Johnson. Join us again next week for another American story in Special English on the Voice of America.
