The story of Johnstown : its early settlement, rise ... - JohnstownCafe

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Mother,
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2:,4
THE sroRV or jo>/.\sfoirx.
lier own white lips, which twitched and quivered with pain, came to me on
Monda\ lorenoon. forty hours alter the tlood. tiiis sad recital :
\Vr' were so (lappy on Thursday nii;lit ! A
little company liad come to coiisratiilate a
friena who was just married- On Friday lorenoon my husband was at his store. The water
rose so that he set up some of the tinware and then helped the neighbors move their furniture.
He stayed in the house a good while after dinner, soinj; out about three o'clock. Tl;e water
was over the sidewaik and he went to get some food, as the cellar was inundated. That was
the last we saw of him, I heard yesterday that he got within two doors of home, called a
farewell message tons and was struck down I heard a noise, like buildings falling, and told
the children to run up-stairs Before we all git up the water rushed through the doors and
windows and caught us. I had the baby in my arms and the other children climbed on the
lounge and table. The water rose and floated us until our heads nearly touched the ceilin-,;.
I held the baby as long as I could and then had to let her drop into the water. George had
grasped the curtain pole and was holding ou. Something crashed against the house, broke a
hole in the wall and a lot of bricks struck my boy on the head. The blood gushed from his
face, he loosed his hold and sank out of sight. Oh. it was too terrible !
My brave little Bismarck went next. Anna, her father's pet. was near enough to kiss me
before she slipped under the water It N^as dark and tlie house was tossing e\"er\' wav. The air
was stifling, and 1 could not tell just the moment the rest of the children had to give up and
drown. My oldest boy. John Fulton, kept his head above the water as long as he was able.
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At last he said: you always said Jesus would help. Will he help us now ' What
could I do but answer that Jesus would be with him, whether in this world or the brighter one
beyond the skies He thought we might get out into the open air. We could not force a way
through the wall or the ceiling, and the poor boy ceased to struiigle. A\'hat I suffered, with the
bodies of my seven -children tioatir.g around me in the gloom, can never be told. Then the
house struck hard and the roof broke I punched a hole bigger and got oui. The roof settled
and I could do nothing more. How the night passed I know not, as I have no remembrance of
anything after the house stopped until Saturday morning. Then I recovered my senses and saw-
I was close to the school-house at the lower end of Vine street. I was numb with cold and
prayed for death, if it were God's will Soon voices called to me to keep up courage and I
would be taken off. Some man put a piece of bread on a stick and thre',v it toward.-i me It
floated beside the wreckage 1 was on and I caught it A mouthful satished me. .\t noon a
boat took me to the shore and I was given some food I did not know then whether Mr.
Fenn was saved or lost, and I set out to see what could be heard of him I knew all mv children
were dead and had floated down among the rubliish on the Point. On Sundav I heard of
my husband s fate. I had hoped he got across Stony Creek and would return, but the dreadful
news destroyed the last spark of comfort in my soul, I had drunk the cup of sorrow to the
lowest dregs.
" Kind friends gave me shelter and what consolation the\ could offer. But my heart is
breaking. My husband all my dear children, and my home are gone :
came from \'irginia to
Johnstown and have no relatives in this section of the country, e.MCept some of mv husband s
famil}. My parents and brothers and sisters are dead, so that I am indeed alone in the world.
I have looked at every body as it was brought to the morgues to see if it might be one of mv
treasures. Thus far I have recovered n^'neof them, and I fear the\- niav have been burned in the
Are at the bridge. The thought is agonising and I feel as if I should go wild when it seems that
I cannot even look upon the faces of my precious dead. It would be such a comfort to knowwhere
they sleep and visit their graves, to water them with my tears and plant (lowers over their
heads. Yet I do not quite despair of finding some of them. Thev mav be dug out of the ruins
of the homes above the bridge, and I shall watch the bodies carried in to see if mv husband and
children are not among them Xo wife and mother could have had a kinder, better fnmdv We