Then like a blow in the face came the
realization that all fire fighting facilities were nil owing to the lack of
water. One short hour previous, San Francisco was sleeping peacefully in its
prosperity, and now the sight was appalling. Devastation, far as the eye
could see, was spelling death and destruction.
My route was down Clay street from Montgomery to Sacramento. In that one
block I counted twenty-one dead horses, killed by falling walls. They had
belonged to the corps of men who bring in to the market with the dawn the
city's supplies. When I reached the corner of California and
Sansome streets (the California office being one block away on California
and Battery) I found a rope stretched across from the Mutual Life Insurance
Company Building to the site where the Alaska Commercial Company building
now stands. All beyond was policed. A soldier of the regular army was on
guard and no one was permitted to pass. Arguments and beseechments to get to
the office were of no avail. The necessity and the emergency, however,
stimulated my determination and aroused my ingenuity. Suddenly, I ducked
under the rope and ran a Marathon which was not only a surprise to myself
but also to the officers and the crowd who yelled after me. I am sure that
in this one block my speed record for a flat run still stands unequaled.
I reached the office and there found every intimation of a hasty departure
on the part of the janitor. The front door of the building stood wide open.
I rushed in, threw open my desk and hastily gathered an armful of what I
deemed were the more important books and papers.
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