(Note: The Arthur D. Curtiss family lived 1 mile from the path of the tornado at 3513 N. 30th St.)
While a hundred church bells were announcing the closing service of the "feast of feasts," and a hundred thousand Omahans were preparing for the evening celebration of the resurrection, there rushed upon the city one of the most terrible combinations of the destroying elements. A tornado, the most furious and destructive ever recorded in America, tore its way through the heart of the residence portion of Omaha---a city of 140,000 souls.
Out of a mildly overcast sky a black cloud dropped, and a great bank of yellowish clouds formed a sinister background. With a grinding roar the death-dealing cloud made its way across the city, traveling faster than a mile a minute, and leaving in its wake a murky blackness, lighted now and again with lurid lightning that revealed a path of wreckage seven miles long and a quarter of a mile wide.
In an instant confusion reigned throughout a large section of the city. It would be hard to imagine a more complete paralysis of the city's normal functions. In the stricken district was chaos and suffering and consternation. In the down-town business district it was at least an hour before the man in the street and the lounger in the hotel lobby realized that a calamity had come upon the city. Street cars stopped, the lighting s stem partially failed and telephones went out of commission.
Then the skyline was seen to be aglow to the north and west, and the shriek of the siren clang of the fire gong, and the swift whir of the motor ambulance impressed upon the business section the fact that something more than the ordinary fire had broken out.
Inhabitants of the devastated area were stunned by the force of the blow. Each one thought that his particular neighborhood was the most seriously hurt and no one knew that a tornado had traversed the city from side to side until nearly midnight.
THE PATH OF THE STORM
From the corner of Forty-sixth and Poppleton to Cutoff lake the path of the tornado was almost a direct line, though there were some places where it was wider than others. The centers of greatest damage were Bemis park, Sacred Heart academy, and Twenty-fourth and Lake streets. The railway trestle over the lake was partly carried away, and the storm continued its work in Council Bluffs.
In the West Farnam and Bemis park districts the property damage was great because of the fine residences which stood in the path of the tornado. Some of the finest residences in Omaha were either partially or wholly demolished.
In the West Farnam and Bemis park districts the property damage was great because of the fine residences which stood in the path of the tornado. Some of the finest residences in Omaha were either partially or wholly demolished.
Tragedies were not lacking in the homes of the rich although the death list was not large, due to the fact that the houses were farther apart than in the poorer district, where wreckage was piled in great heaps in the streets. G. L. Hammer of the Byrne-Hammer Dry Goods Company, was so badly injured that his leg had to be amputated. Mrs. Hammer was badly injured, and the magnificent Hammer residence was piled into a heap of tangled debris.
The George Joslyn castle one of the sights of Omaha, was damaged, and the Joslyn gardens and conservatories, in which many thousands of dollars were invested, were ruined beyond repair.
The J. E. Trainor home was ruined. The solid granite, brick, and steel residence of R. B. Busch, vice president of the Crane company, was turned into a wreck.
When Judge Slabaugh's residence was scattered over several blocks, his young daughter, Miss Grace Slabaugh, suffered injury to her right wrist that may cut short one of the most promising of musical careers.
When Judge Slabaugh's residence was scattered over several blocks, his young daughter, Miss Grace Slabaugh, suffered injury to her right wrist that may cut short one of the most promising of musical careers.
RELEIF STARTS AT ONCE
Within two hours after the twister had torn a path through the city every agency available was being rushed through the darkness to the relief of the victims. About the first organized aid to reach the scene consisted of 200 soldiers of the regular army stationed at Fort Omaha.
When Major Carl F. Hartmann saw the tornado passing over the city he knew there would be work for his men to do. He did not wait for the unwinding of military red tape nor for interchange of messages, nor the formal establishment of martial law. He ordered his men to the storm area on double-quick, and on the run they made the mile and a half between the fort and the dark, twisted ruins about Twenty-fourth and Lake streets. When they got there the work was at hand.
Flames were breaking out among the ruins up and down the belt of horror, and victims were pleading for someone to help them before the fire should reach them.
The entire fire and police departments of Omaha were rushed to the scene, and the men scattered over wide areas of desolation. Council Bluffs was called upon, and the firemen of that city arrived while nearly a score of fires were burning.
For half an hour it seemed as though the entire storm-swept area would be devoured by flames, which were fast spreading from wreck to wreck. In the region of modest residences along Franklin and Decatur streets the flames spread rapidly, and the homeless victims who had escaped from the ruins retreated toward the city.
To one approaching the burning rows of houses from the south the spectacle was one to terrify. Hundreds of men and women, leading or carrying children, were hastening along, they knew not where. Many were dazed by the calamity that had befallen them. Some of the women were hysterical. Scores of the victims were bleeding from numerous wounds received when their homes were destroyed.
When Major Carl F. Hartmann saw the tornado passing over the city he knew there would be work for his men to do. He did not wait for the unwinding of military red tape nor for interchange of messages, nor the formal establishment of martial law. He ordered his men to the storm area on double-quick, and on the run they made the mile and a half between the fort and the dark, twisted ruins about Twenty-fourth and Lake streets. When they got there the work was at hand.
Flames were breaking out among the ruins up and down the belt of horror, and victims were pleading for someone to help them before the fire should reach them.
The entire fire and police departments of Omaha were rushed to the scene, and the men scattered over wide areas of desolation. Council Bluffs was called upon, and the firemen of that city arrived while nearly a score of fires were burning.
For half an hour it seemed as though the entire storm-swept area would be devoured by flames, which were fast spreading from wreck to wreck. In the region of modest residences along Franklin and Decatur streets the flames spread rapidly, and the homeless victims who had escaped from the ruins retreated toward the city.
