| Memoirs of a Texan: Empire Sample |
This is the Sunshine chapter of Book Three. Jim Cobb's and Andy Blaylock's spoiled, willful
granddaughter, Trish, is caught in the worst natural calamity in American history. The story is
written in her voice and later that of her father, Toby Blaylock.
Galveston, Texas, Friday, September 7, 1900
Trish Blaylock
We watched Charley Stein, with Icky Ike Woods in tow, walk toward us. So like boys. They
never seem able to talk to a girl without a friend to back them up. But, just as they came near,
a gust of wind caught Ike’s straw hat and they chased it down the beach.
So immature. I looked at Mavis. Mavis looked back and we giggled despite our lost
opportunity to be aloof and disinterested. But, sure as certain, Charley and Ike would be back
when they bucked up their courage again.
Mavis had invited me to the Baptist Training Union Ice Cream Social on Galveston Beach and
I readily accepted. In fact, I sort of talked her into it. My life on the mainland is so dreary. it’ll
be fun to flirt with the boys and show up the snooty Baptist girls. Besides, the Methodist boys
in my church are so uninteresting.
As if by Providence, another gust lifted Sara Jenkins dress showing her knobby knees and
tacky pantaloons. I joined in the laughter. Served her right. What nerve asking Mavis
questions about me.
I consider Mavis Gillingham my best friend; a friend who does whatever I ask. I can hardly wait
to show her the new clothes Father bought for the Galveston store which has so much more
than the Houston store. It reminds me that live in dull, drab Houston when all the fun and best
people are on the Island?
We will visit the Aldrich & Blaylock store Saturday, and then Father will bring me back to
Houston. Their schedule leaves no opportunity for the private fashion review I planned, but I
know the weak link in the plan.
Galveston, Texas, Saturday, September 8, 1900
Trish Blaylock
I awoke, combed my long blond hair that all the boys love and the girls envy, and prepared
for my grand entrance downstairs. Other than Jake, Mavis’ insufferable little brother, the
Gillinghams are nice people. Mavis told me they much admire and respect my grandfathers
who had helped them get started in their insurance business. I agree. They are dears.
Grandfather Jim named me Sunshine and competes with Grandfather Andy to see which will
be my favorite. I make sure it stays a tie.
Mavis began to stir. I nudged her and said,”Let’s ask your father to take us to the store right
after breakfast.”
“But, he told Mother he would take you at noon”, Mavis replied as she rubbed her eyes.
I dismissed her objection with a disdainful look and said, “Sit here all morning and miss seeing
the latest fashions from New York and Paris? Not me.”
Mavis appeared properly chastised so I continued, “Look sad when he refuses and I’ll look
really disappointed. He’ll give in. He always does.”
Mavis protested, “But, the wind picked up. There may be a storm coming.”
You worry too much”, I scolded. “We have wind and rain all the time. It’s just a summer storm.”
Breakfast included buttermilk pancakes with crisp bacon, New England maple syrup, and
fresh milk. Only the best for Jim Cobb’s and Andy Blaylock’s granddaughter. But, despite our
concerted efforts, Mavis’ father refused to drive us to the store. “A storm’s coming. You girls
stay here until it blows over. I’ll leave a message for Trish’s father at the store when we buy
shoes for Jake.”
He left with Mrs Gillingham and Mavis’ little brother while Mavis’ mother was telling us, “I’ll be
right back. Play with the kaleidoscope until we return.”
They hurried out the door to get back before the wind picked up more. When they left, I
turned to Mavis and said, “Let’s go. The store’s only a mile away. We can take Sixteenth
Street over. They’ll never see us.”
Mavis protested, “I can’t. You heard what Father said.”
I could not let her ruin my fun. Acting offended, I said, “You are such a child. You’d miss
seeing the new fashions just because your father said you had to stay here? Leave a note
and let’s go.”
“But, I’ll be punished.”
I looked at her dismissively and said, “It’ll be worth it. But, if you want to be a baby, stay. I’m
going.”
I left through the front door. Mavis quickly scribbled a note and followed me. The wind had
stiffened during the night. We held hands to stay together and stand up to the gusts that
knocked over garbage cans and snapped window shutters along the way.
When we arrived at Daddy’s store, I peeked through the front window. No sign of the
Gillinghams or any other customers. I motioned to Mavis who stood behind me out of sight
from inside the store.
We ran in past the store manager and employees straight to the stockroom, the closest thing
on earth to Paradise. Before we dived in, I cautioned, Mavis. “Put everything back in the box
just like you found it,” knowing if we didn’t, I’d never again see the newest styles before they
were sold. So much fun! We tried on hats, scarves, and shoes and pulled out dresses and
foundations to hold up and admire.
As we sorted through stacks of beautiful new clothes, I pointed to items Mavis unpacked and
said, That’s my Christmas present if it doesn’t sell right away.”
When Mavis did not respond, I added, “Daddy will give your mother a discount on whatever
you want. If he won’t, I can always get you a discount from Grandpa Andy.”
We became completely engrossed daydreaming of ourselves in our new, stylish clothes,
admiring glances of older boys, and envious stares of the girls. We felt the room shake and
heard a loud thud and then a shrill, steady, howl. We stopped and looked at each other. I
mumbled, “We better get out of here.”
As we carefully replaced the hats we had just admired back into the boxes, someone slapped
the door and yelled, “Get out now.”
We dropped everything and left the stockroom. All the customers were gone. The remaining
employees moved display items back from the windows. I looked outside and saw airborne
debris race down the street in a near straight line. A wood slab, maybe a door, had slammed
through the front window and shattered the glass into tiny shards. I felt the storm suck air
from the store and screamed.
Too frightened to move, I shuddered and saw pee run down Mavis’ legs to the floor. We clung
to each other and trembled. Ralph Whittaker, the store manager, shouted to the employees
to gather around him at the front door. He saw Mavis and me standing petrified and motioned
for us to join him.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, “We must leave” and pointed to a building
across the street. I saw Mavis’ mouth fall open and her eyes widen. She appeared transfixed
by the sight of the sturdy brick building tottering, ready to collapse. I wanted to join her in
withdrawing from the horror, but moved my lips to Mavis’ ear and said, “we must be brave.”
Mister Whittaker shouted, “Strip down to your underclothing.” The men removed their shoes,
socks, shirts, and pants. We and the lone female employee hesitated. Mister Whitaker turned
to us and angrily shouted, “Now.”
I understood it was no time for modesty and took off my dress, stockings, and shoes, but
retained my slip and underpants. Mavis remained frozen. I went to her and said, “We must do
as Mister Whittaker says” and helped her remove her clothes. We stood there two frightened
girls undressed terrified of what would come next. Water rose rapidly in the street and poured
into the store. I knew we must swim to safety and followed Mister Whittaker and the others out
the front door. Water came to my knees.
I looked up helplessly while Mavis stood stunned. Mister Whittaker dropped back and put his
arm around me and said, “Follow me and stay close.” He did the same with Mavis and waded
out through the gap that had been the front door.
I looked back and saw Mavis trailing. I grabbed her arm and pulled Mavis forward. It seemed
to jolt her into action. Mister Whittaker stepped down into the street where the water was
already chest high, littered with jetsam, and rising. I noted and appreciated the three male
employees who attached themselves to Mavis, the female employee, and me.
We followed Mister Whittaker into the turbulent river racing above The Strand and began
swimming west. We made little headway and began to separate. I used all my strength to stay
directly behind Mister Whittaker. I looked back briefly and saw Mavis and the others lagging
behind.
After battling the tide flowing down The Strand, Mister Whittaker turned left up Kempner
Street away from the Bay. He alternately dove under the water and pulled himself forward with
a breaststroke before surfacing for air and then only with his mouth. Feeling the fierce wind
strike my face, I knew it was the only possible way to move forward and followed his lead.
When I glanced above the water, I saw a boarding house one block away. Men on the second
floor appeared to be pulling others from the water in through the windows. If we could only
make it there. I redoubled my effort to move against the salt water pushed by the ferocious
headwind. Midway, I felt my strength wane with each leg kick and breaststroke weaker, but if I
quit I would die.
I bobbed up to breathe as a crate glanced off my head. The blow stunned me and I began to
sink. A jumble of thoughts raced through my brain. Oh, God. I’ll die. Mavis will die and it’s my
fault. Jesus will forgive me if I repent and have faith. He’ll forgive anything even getting Mavis
involved. I learned that in Confirmation Class. The story of the tax collector in the Temple
flashed through my mind and I prayed, God, forgive me a sinner and felt a calm come over
me. I quit the hopeless struggle with the wind and water and waited to die.
A strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled me up above the water. I gasped, looked up, and
saw Mister Whittaker who appeared both tired and resolute. He screamed in my ear, “Hold on
to my belt. Don’t let go. Help all you can.”
He used a strong breaststroke and leg kick to keep us moving forward. I held on tightly and
did all I could to pull and kick the water. All the time, I felt regret and shame that I might end
up costing Mister Whittaker his life and that I had foolishly brought Mavis out into the storm. I
prayed for strength and deliverance each time we bobbed under the water.
It seemed like hours later when I felt Mister Whittaker push me upward and forward. A hand
grabbed mine and lifted me up through the boarding house window. I saw salvation in the
faces of two determined men who pulled me through to a floor made wet from others they
rescued earlier. I sat down and looked back as they pulled Mister Whittaker in behind me. He
lay limply beside me. I feared he was dead but heard soft breathing and felt thankful he did
not die.
No one cared that I was nearly naked. I didn’t. I waited and watched intently for Mavis to come
through the window. After a few minutes, a kindly older woman knelt beside me and said,
Come with me, Dear. We have dry clothes and a warm bed for you.”
I resisted and mumbled, “No, I must wait for my friend,” but she did not seem to understand
me. Another lady came over to help. They took me to a back room on the third floor. I looked
back hoping to see Mavis coming through the window.
The ladies took off my remaining clothes, dried me with a towel, dressed me in a nightshirt,
and helped me into a dry, soft bed. The first lady kissed me on the forehead and whispered,
“Try to sleep. God willing, we may have others to share the bed with you.”
I felt very thankful for dry clothes, a dry bed, a dry room, and overwhelming gratitude to
Mister Whittaker and the strangers who saved my life. But said nothing. I could express
neither the gratitude nor the deep sadness I felt. Inwardly I mourned, thanked God for my
rescue, and prayed for the people I knew were suffering and dying outside.
I did not sleep, but listened to the cries and moans of men, women, and children outside in
the water. As each cry became softer, I knew that person was drowning and knew I could do
nothing to help. I worried that one of the lost souls was my best friend, Mavis. What happened
to her? Her family? The questions haunted me.
Houston, Texas, Sunday, September 9, 1900
Toby Blaylock
Meg and I and Trish’s younger brother and sister rode out the storm that lashed our home. I
tried desperately, but could not reach my daughter after an untethered ship in the harbor
slammed into the bridge connecting Galveston to the mainland and knocked out any
possibility of surface traffic. Her Uncle Gus Blaylock, my brother, on faculty at the Medical
Branch in Galveston, stayed in the upper floor of Old Red, the administrative building. I
hoped it would withstand the heavy winds that have undoubtedly flattened Galveston.
As soon as the hurricane passes and the deadly water subsides, Trish’s male relatives will
begin an organized search of the island. The women will go to the shelters hoping she will
turn up. I later learned Trish stayed in a boarding house. They had food for all they rescued
from the storm. But, I learned Trish ate little of what was offered her.
On the second day, the floodwater subsided and Dad, Uncle Jim, John Peter, and I arrived in
rescue boats from the mainland. We looked up to an eerily clear, calm, and sunny sky as if
nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Trish stepped outside and wandered among the
devastation that was Galveston. She looked for Mavis, any of the Gillinghams, anyone she
knew, but saw only people like herself bewildered and frightened strangers. She wanted to
ask if they had seen Mavis but could not bring herself to speak. Instead she simply looked at
empty faces and walked in and around the debris.
As she looked, a loud and familiar voice startled her. Trish turned and saw her Grandpa Andy
racing toward her. She wanted to run to him, but, instead stood and looked at him with blank
eyes. He engulfed her in his strong arms. With tear streaked cheeks, Dad gently rocked her
back and forth and whispered repeatedly, “Trish, we thought we had lost our Sunshine.”
He took her hand and led her to a wharf and told her to wait. She stood apart from the others.
Within minutes, Grandfather Jim, Uncle John Peter, Uncle Gus and I came and hugged her.
Many tears were shed, but not by Trish.
The storm totally destroyed Galveston Island and completely wiped out the Gulf side of town.
Afterwards, owners of homes from Q Street to the Gulf, including the Gillinghams, could not
locate their homes or even find the foundations. The putrid odor of dead bodies hung in the
air. The Sheriff and Deputies impressed every able-bodied man to dig graves for the dead
and threatened to shoot any who refused.
My brother joined other doctors and nurses to bring the injured and sick to a makeshift
hospital on the grounds where the Medical Branch once stood. Jim Cobb, Andy Blaylock,
John Peter Cobb, and I worked with other men to bury the dead.
By the following Tuesday, bodies taken out to sea and dumped began washing up on the
beach. Burying dead and recovered bodies ceased as corpses were stacked and burned in a
common pyre. Even for battle-hardened veterans, like my father and Jim Cobb who had
witnessed the carnage of Sharpsburg, Gettysburg, and Cold Harbor, the devastation and
horror were gut wrenching.
When the inevitable epidemic hit Galveston in the following weeks, we were spared. Gus
insisted we wear protective masks over our faces, wash thoroughly and frequently with soap,
stay away from any contaminated item when we finished burial work, and only drink water
from home. Finding Aldrich & Blaylock employees among the dead was particularly painful for
Dad and me.
Trish joined her mother, grandmothers, and Aunt Nancy on the mainland in an improvised
shelter for refugees taken from the Island. She solemnly handed out clothing and food as the
other women at the shelter were doing, but did not smile or laugh and said little. She kept a
faint hope that Mavis was alive. But learned, from survivors, that all the Gillingham family died
in the storm and grieved even more. The bodies of Mavis and her mother had been identified
among the dead. I wish I could take the pain from my daughter but I cannot.
Blaylock Home, Houston, Texas, October 6, 1900
The Cobb and Blaylock families gathered at my parents’ home to take stock. Trish sat with
the younger children in another room which would have offended her earlier. Instead of
assuming her customary role - looking after her brother and sister and the younger cousins -
Trish sat solemnly in a chair and listened as the adults talked, about her.
She heard her mother say, “She’s so distraught. I don’t what to do for her”. We knew Trish
felt remorseful that she had caused her mother and me so much worry.
Grandpa Jim patted Meg’s hand and said, “Our girl matured cruelly. We have to give her
time.”.
Them my mother told us something we needed to hear from someone who loved us, “Toby, I
know you and Meg feel guilty about letting Trish spend the night in Galveston. It would be
easier if there were someone to blame. But, there isn’t. You didn’t know. None of us knew a
killer storm pushed the winds on Friday.”
Trish listened intently. She always knew her grandmother, my mother, Martha Blaylock, was
thoughtful, considerate, and loved her, but came to a much deeper understanding and
appreciation of her after the storm.
The conversation seemed to gravitate to Gus. He told us, “We don’t know much about mental
shock other than what’s been known for years. Trish was traumatized as surely as if someone
hit her with an axe handle. It’s like a severe internal bruise. As Uncle Jim said, she most
needs time to recover. I think the best we can do is love her and keep things as normal as
possible.
Aunt Nancy asked, “What’s become of Ralph Whittaker?”
Grandpa Andy answered, “He’s working with Toby and me in Houston. When we’re able to
rebuild the Galveston store, he’ll be the manager. The new store will be bigger and grander
than it was before.”
He glimpsed Trish through the open door and motioned to her, “Trish, honey, come sit with
your granddaddy.” Trish slipped easily into his lap as she had when she was a little girl.
Grandpa Andy put his arm around her and said, “I want you there when we reopen. Go
through the store. Pick anything you want. Other than jewelry or makeup, it’s yours.”
Trish smiled faintly and said, “Thank you, Granddaddy. But, all I want to do is thank Mister
Whittaker. I’m sorry I haven’t seen him since he saved me. But, if Mother will bring me, I’ll
come by your office and tell him there.”
“Won’t be necessary, Honey. I asked him to come by today so we can all thank him.’
Trish did what she could not do earlier. She thought back to Ralph Whittaker lying near dead
on the boarding house floor after risking his life to save her in the river above Kempner
Street. She slowly lowered her head and began to sob. Grandpa Andy held her closer,
pulled her head to his chest, stroked her hair, and said nothing.
granddaughter, Trish, is caught in the worst natural calamity in American history. The story is
written in her voice and later that of her father, Toby Blaylock.
Galveston, Texas, Friday, September 7, 1900
Trish Blaylock
We watched Charley Stein, with Icky Ike Woods in tow, walk toward us. So like boys. They
never seem able to talk to a girl without a friend to back them up. But, just as they came near,
a gust of wind caught Ike’s straw hat and they chased it down the beach.
So immature. I looked at Mavis. Mavis looked back and we giggled despite our lost
opportunity to be aloof and disinterested. But, sure as certain, Charley and Ike would be back
when they bucked up their courage again.
Mavis had invited me to the Baptist Training Union Ice Cream Social on Galveston Beach and
I readily accepted. In fact, I sort of talked her into it. My life on the mainland is so dreary. it’ll
be fun to flirt with the boys and show up the snooty Baptist girls. Besides, the Methodist boys
in my church are so uninteresting.
As if by Providence, another gust lifted Sara Jenkins dress showing her knobby knees and
tacky pantaloons. I joined in the laughter. Served her right. What nerve asking Mavis
questions about me.
I consider Mavis Gillingham my best friend; a friend who does whatever I ask. I can hardly wait
to show her the new clothes Father bought for the Galveston store which has so much more
than the Houston store. It reminds me that live in dull, drab Houston when all the fun and best
people are on the Island?
We will visit the Aldrich & Blaylock store Saturday, and then Father will bring me back to
Houston. Their schedule leaves no opportunity for the private fashion review I planned, but I
know the weak link in the plan.
Galveston, Texas, Saturday, September 8, 1900
Trish Blaylock
I awoke, combed my long blond hair that all the boys love and the girls envy, and prepared
for my grand entrance downstairs. Other than Jake, Mavis’ insufferable little brother, the
Gillinghams are nice people. Mavis told me they much admire and respect my grandfathers
who had helped them get started in their insurance business. I agree. They are dears.
Grandfather Jim named me Sunshine and competes with Grandfather Andy to see which will
be my favorite. I make sure it stays a tie.
Mavis began to stir. I nudged her and said,”Let’s ask your father to take us to the store right
after breakfast.”
“But, he told Mother he would take you at noon”, Mavis replied as she rubbed her eyes.
I dismissed her objection with a disdainful look and said, “Sit here all morning and miss seeing
the latest fashions from New York and Paris? Not me.”
Mavis appeared properly chastised so I continued, “Look sad when he refuses and I’ll look
really disappointed. He’ll give in. He always does.”
Mavis protested, “But, the wind picked up. There may be a storm coming.”
You worry too much”, I scolded. “We have wind and rain all the time. It’s just a summer storm.”
Breakfast included buttermilk pancakes with crisp bacon, New England maple syrup, and
fresh milk. Only the best for Jim Cobb’s and Andy Blaylock’s granddaughter. But, despite our
concerted efforts, Mavis’ father refused to drive us to the store. “A storm’s coming. You girls
stay here until it blows over. I’ll leave a message for Trish’s father at the store when we buy
shoes for Jake.”
He left with Mrs Gillingham and Mavis’ little brother while Mavis’ mother was telling us, “I’ll be
right back. Play with the kaleidoscope until we return.”
They hurried out the door to get back before the wind picked up more. When they left, I
turned to Mavis and said, “Let’s go. The store’s only a mile away. We can take Sixteenth
Street over. They’ll never see us.”
Mavis protested, “I can’t. You heard what Father said.”
I could not let her ruin my fun. Acting offended, I said, “You are such a child. You’d miss
seeing the new fashions just because your father said you had to stay here? Leave a note
and let’s go.”
“But, I’ll be punished.”
I looked at her dismissively and said, “It’ll be worth it. But, if you want to be a baby, stay. I’m
going.”
I left through the front door. Mavis quickly scribbled a note and followed me. The wind had
stiffened during the night. We held hands to stay together and stand up to the gusts that
knocked over garbage cans and snapped window shutters along the way.
When we arrived at Daddy’s store, I peeked through the front window. No sign of the
Gillinghams or any other customers. I motioned to Mavis who stood behind me out of sight
from inside the store.
We ran in past the store manager and employees straight to the stockroom, the closest thing
on earth to Paradise. Before we dived in, I cautioned, Mavis. “Put everything back in the box
just like you found it,” knowing if we didn’t, I’d never again see the newest styles before they
were sold. So much fun! We tried on hats, scarves, and shoes and pulled out dresses and
foundations to hold up and admire.
As we sorted through stacks of beautiful new clothes, I pointed to items Mavis unpacked and
said, That’s my Christmas present if it doesn’t sell right away.”
When Mavis did not respond, I added, “Daddy will give your mother a discount on whatever
you want. If he won’t, I can always get you a discount from Grandpa Andy.”
We became completely engrossed daydreaming of ourselves in our new, stylish clothes,
admiring glances of older boys, and envious stares of the girls. We felt the room shake and
heard a loud thud and then a shrill, steady, howl. We stopped and looked at each other. I
mumbled, “We better get out of here.”
As we carefully replaced the hats we had just admired back into the boxes, someone slapped
the door and yelled, “Get out now.”
We dropped everything and left the stockroom. All the customers were gone. The remaining
employees moved display items back from the windows. I looked outside and saw airborne
debris race down the street in a near straight line. A wood slab, maybe a door, had slammed
through the front window and shattered the glass into tiny shards. I felt the storm suck air
from the store and screamed.
Too frightened to move, I shuddered and saw pee run down Mavis’ legs to the floor. We clung
to each other and trembled. Ralph Whittaker, the store manager, shouted to the employees
to gather around him at the front door. He saw Mavis and me standing petrified and motioned
for us to join him.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, “We must leave” and pointed to a building
across the street. I saw Mavis’ mouth fall open and her eyes widen. She appeared transfixed
by the sight of the sturdy brick building tottering, ready to collapse. I wanted to join her in
withdrawing from the horror, but moved my lips to Mavis’ ear and said, “we must be brave.”
Mister Whittaker shouted, “Strip down to your underclothing.” The men removed their shoes,
socks, shirts, and pants. We and the lone female employee hesitated. Mister Whitaker turned
to us and angrily shouted, “Now.”
I understood it was no time for modesty and took off my dress, stockings, and shoes, but
retained my slip and underpants. Mavis remained frozen. I went to her and said, “We must do
as Mister Whittaker says” and helped her remove her clothes. We stood there two frightened
girls undressed terrified of what would come next. Water rose rapidly in the street and poured
into the store. I knew we must swim to safety and followed Mister Whittaker and the others out
the front door. Water came to my knees.
I looked up helplessly while Mavis stood stunned. Mister Whittaker dropped back and put his
arm around me and said, “Follow me and stay close.” He did the same with Mavis and waded
out through the gap that had been the front door.
I looked back and saw Mavis trailing. I grabbed her arm and pulled Mavis forward. It seemed
to jolt her into action. Mister Whittaker stepped down into the street where the water was
already chest high, littered with jetsam, and rising. I noted and appreciated the three male
employees who attached themselves to Mavis, the female employee, and me.
We followed Mister Whittaker into the turbulent river racing above The Strand and began
swimming west. We made little headway and began to separate. I used all my strength to stay
directly behind Mister Whittaker. I looked back briefly and saw Mavis and the others lagging
behind.
After battling the tide flowing down The Strand, Mister Whittaker turned left up Kempner
Street away from the Bay. He alternately dove under the water and pulled himself forward with
a breaststroke before surfacing for air and then only with his mouth. Feeling the fierce wind
strike my face, I knew it was the only possible way to move forward and followed his lead.
When I glanced above the water, I saw a boarding house one block away. Men on the second
floor appeared to be pulling others from the water in through the windows. If we could only
make it there. I redoubled my effort to move against the salt water pushed by the ferocious
headwind. Midway, I felt my strength wane with each leg kick and breaststroke weaker, but if I
quit I would die.
I bobbed up to breathe as a crate glanced off my head. The blow stunned me and I began to
sink. A jumble of thoughts raced through my brain. Oh, God. I’ll die. Mavis will die and it’s my
fault. Jesus will forgive me if I repent and have faith. He’ll forgive anything even getting Mavis
involved. I learned that in Confirmation Class. The story of the tax collector in the Temple
flashed through my mind and I prayed, God, forgive me a sinner and felt a calm come over
me. I quit the hopeless struggle with the wind and water and waited to die.
A strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled me up above the water. I gasped, looked up, and
saw Mister Whittaker who appeared both tired and resolute. He screamed in my ear, “Hold on
to my belt. Don’t let go. Help all you can.”
He used a strong breaststroke and leg kick to keep us moving forward. I held on tightly and
did all I could to pull and kick the water. All the time, I felt regret and shame that I might end
up costing Mister Whittaker his life and that I had foolishly brought Mavis out into the storm. I
prayed for strength and deliverance each time we bobbed under the water.
It seemed like hours later when I felt Mister Whittaker push me upward and forward. A hand
grabbed mine and lifted me up through the boarding house window. I saw salvation in the
faces of two determined men who pulled me through to a floor made wet from others they
rescued earlier. I sat down and looked back as they pulled Mister Whittaker in behind me. He
lay limply beside me. I feared he was dead but heard soft breathing and felt thankful he did
not die.
No one cared that I was nearly naked. I didn’t. I waited and watched intently for Mavis to come
through the window. After a few minutes, a kindly older woman knelt beside me and said,
Come with me, Dear. We have dry clothes and a warm bed for you.”
I resisted and mumbled, “No, I must wait for my friend,” but she did not seem to understand
me. Another lady came over to help. They took me to a back room on the third floor. I looked
back hoping to see Mavis coming through the window.
The ladies took off my remaining clothes, dried me with a towel, dressed me in a nightshirt,
and helped me into a dry, soft bed. The first lady kissed me on the forehead and whispered,
“Try to sleep. God willing, we may have others to share the bed with you.”
I felt very thankful for dry clothes, a dry bed, a dry room, and overwhelming gratitude to
Mister Whittaker and the strangers who saved my life. But said nothing. I could express
neither the gratitude nor the deep sadness I felt. Inwardly I mourned, thanked God for my
rescue, and prayed for the people I knew were suffering and dying outside.
I did not sleep, but listened to the cries and moans of men, women, and children outside in
the water. As each cry became softer, I knew that person was drowning and knew I could do
nothing to help. I worried that one of the lost souls was my best friend, Mavis. What happened
to her? Her family? The questions haunted me.
Houston, Texas, Sunday, September 9, 1900
Toby Blaylock
Meg and I and Trish’s younger brother and sister rode out the storm that lashed our home. I
tried desperately, but could not reach my daughter after an untethered ship in the harbor
slammed into the bridge connecting Galveston to the mainland and knocked out any
possibility of surface traffic. Her Uncle Gus Blaylock, my brother, on faculty at the Medical
Branch in Galveston, stayed in the upper floor of Old Red, the administrative building. I
hoped it would withstand the heavy winds that have undoubtedly flattened Galveston.
As soon as the hurricane passes and the deadly water subsides, Trish’s male relatives will
begin an organized search of the island. The women will go to the shelters hoping she will
turn up. I later learned Trish stayed in a boarding house. They had food for all they rescued
from the storm. But, I learned Trish ate little of what was offered her.
On the second day, the floodwater subsided and Dad, Uncle Jim, John Peter, and I arrived in
rescue boats from the mainland. We looked up to an eerily clear, calm, and sunny sky as if
nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Trish stepped outside and wandered among the
devastation that was Galveston. She looked for Mavis, any of the Gillinghams, anyone she
knew, but saw only people like herself bewildered and frightened strangers. She wanted to
ask if they had seen Mavis but could not bring herself to speak. Instead she simply looked at
empty faces and walked in and around the debris.
As she looked, a loud and familiar voice startled her. Trish turned and saw her Grandpa Andy
racing toward her. She wanted to run to him, but, instead stood and looked at him with blank
eyes. He engulfed her in his strong arms. With tear streaked cheeks, Dad gently rocked her
back and forth and whispered repeatedly, “Trish, we thought we had lost our Sunshine.”
He took her hand and led her to a wharf and told her to wait. She stood apart from the others.
Within minutes, Grandfather Jim, Uncle John Peter, Uncle Gus and I came and hugged her.
Many tears were shed, but not by Trish.
The storm totally destroyed Galveston Island and completely wiped out the Gulf side of town.
Afterwards, owners of homes from Q Street to the Gulf, including the Gillinghams, could not
locate their homes or even find the foundations. The putrid odor of dead bodies hung in the
air. The Sheriff and Deputies impressed every able-bodied man to dig graves for the dead
and threatened to shoot any who refused.
My brother joined other doctors and nurses to bring the injured and sick to a makeshift
hospital on the grounds where the Medical Branch once stood. Jim Cobb, Andy Blaylock,
John Peter Cobb, and I worked with other men to bury the dead.
By the following Tuesday, bodies taken out to sea and dumped began washing up on the
beach. Burying dead and recovered bodies ceased as corpses were stacked and burned in a
common pyre. Even for battle-hardened veterans, like my father and Jim Cobb who had
witnessed the carnage of Sharpsburg, Gettysburg, and Cold Harbor, the devastation and
horror were gut wrenching.
When the inevitable epidemic hit Galveston in the following weeks, we were spared. Gus
insisted we wear protective masks over our faces, wash thoroughly and frequently with soap,
stay away from any contaminated item when we finished burial work, and only drink water
from home. Finding Aldrich & Blaylock employees among the dead was particularly painful for
Dad and me.
Trish joined her mother, grandmothers, and Aunt Nancy on the mainland in an improvised
shelter for refugees taken from the Island. She solemnly handed out clothing and food as the
other women at the shelter were doing, but did not smile or laugh and said little. She kept a
faint hope that Mavis was alive. But learned, from survivors, that all the Gillingham family died
in the storm and grieved even more. The bodies of Mavis and her mother had been identified
among the dead. I wish I could take the pain from my daughter but I cannot.
Blaylock Home, Houston, Texas, October 6, 1900
The Cobb and Blaylock families gathered at my parents’ home to take stock. Trish sat with
the younger children in another room which would have offended her earlier. Instead of
assuming her customary role - looking after her brother and sister and the younger cousins -
Trish sat solemnly in a chair and listened as the adults talked, about her.
She heard her mother say, “She’s so distraught. I don’t what to do for her”. We knew Trish
felt remorseful that she had caused her mother and me so much worry.
Grandpa Jim patted Meg’s hand and said, “Our girl matured cruelly. We have to give her
time.”.
Them my mother told us something we needed to hear from someone who loved us, “Toby, I
know you and Meg feel guilty about letting Trish spend the night in Galveston. It would be
easier if there were someone to blame. But, there isn’t. You didn’t know. None of us knew a
killer storm pushed the winds on Friday.”
Trish listened intently. She always knew her grandmother, my mother, Martha Blaylock, was
thoughtful, considerate, and loved her, but came to a much deeper understanding and
appreciation of her after the storm.
The conversation seemed to gravitate to Gus. He told us, “We don’t know much about mental
shock other than what’s been known for years. Trish was traumatized as surely as if someone
hit her with an axe handle. It’s like a severe internal bruise. As Uncle Jim said, she most
needs time to recover. I think the best we can do is love her and keep things as normal as
possible.
Aunt Nancy asked, “What’s become of Ralph Whittaker?”
Grandpa Andy answered, “He’s working with Toby and me in Houston. When we’re able to
rebuild the Galveston store, he’ll be the manager. The new store will be bigger and grander
than it was before.”
He glimpsed Trish through the open door and motioned to her, “Trish, honey, come sit with
your granddaddy.” Trish slipped easily into his lap as she had when she was a little girl.
Grandpa Andy put his arm around her and said, “I want you there when we reopen. Go
through the store. Pick anything you want. Other than jewelry or makeup, it’s yours.”
Trish smiled faintly and said, “Thank you, Granddaddy. But, all I want to do is thank Mister
Whittaker. I’m sorry I haven’t seen him since he saved me. But, if Mother will bring me, I’ll
come by your office and tell him there.”
“Won’t be necessary, Honey. I asked him to come by today so we can all thank him.’
Trish did what she could not do earlier. She thought back to Ralph Whittaker lying near dead
on the boarding house floor after risking his life to save her in the river above Kempner
Street. She slowly lowered her head and began to sob. Grandpa Andy held her closer,
pulled her head to his chest, stroked her hair, and said nothing.
| John Davison Rockefeller, 1875 Rockefeller's success in building his integrated oil company. At the same time, Jim despises Rockefeller as a war shirker and for his amoral business practices. |
| Bodies stored for burial following the Great 1900 Galveston Storm |
| Woodrow Wilson, US President 1912 - 1920 Jim Cobb attended the 1912 Democratic Convention in Baltimore as a Texas delegate to fellow Presbyteria, New Jersey Governor Wilson. |
| W E B DuBose, 1918 Jim Cobb's godson, James Tolliver Pearson, meets Nashville, and forms a long term friendship that leads to James Tolliver's participation in forming the NAACP. |
| James E (Pa) Ferguson, Texas Governor 1915 - 17. One of the most corrupt populists politicians Jim Cobb fought. |
| Great 1900 Galveston Storm Aftermath |
| Jack Johnson, Heavy Weight Boxing Champion, Galveston native, and catalyst for racial tensions. |
| William F Cody Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show played in Beaumont, Texas shortly before the 1901 Spindletop Discovery |
| Great 1900 Galveston Storm Track Category 4 Hurricane (SSHS) Highest Winds 150 mph Lowest Pressure 936 mbar Fatalities 6,000 - 12,000 Damage $20 million (1900) $516 million (2009) |
| Anthony Lucas One of three pieces that came together to make the Spindletop Discovery happen |
| Ramon Alaniz and Andy Blaylock, two of Jim Cobb's close associates, open the Rio Grande Valley for citrus production |
| Edward M House Adviser to Texas Governors Hogg and Culbertson and US President Woodrow Wilson |
| Served honorably in World War I and World War II |
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| Rough Riders, San Juan Hill, outside Santiago, Cuba, July 1, 1898 |
| Lafayette Escadrille Insignia, France, 19`6 |
| Colonel A W Catlin, Commander 6th Marines at Belleau Wood, France, October, 1918 |
| General Clinton B Fisk, Founder Fisk University, Nashville, Tennessee |
| William English Walling, Chairman NAACP Executive Committee, 1910-11, |
| Curtiss JN-4 Jenny, 1916, Flown by Larry Savage in the Punitive Expedition |
| Political Cartoon, Punitive Expedition, US Army under command of General "Black Jack" Pershing pursued Pancho Villa in Northern Mexico following Villa's raid on Columbus, New Mexico |