Chapter Five
“During all this solemn Sunday, Johnstown has been drenched with the tears of stricken mortals, and the air is filled with sobs and sighs that come from breaking hearts.”
~City Solicitor Keuhn, when asked to estimate the damage of Johnstown
WASHINGTON, D.C. SATURDAY, JUNE 1, 1889
Annamae woke to glorious sunshine streaming through her bedroom window. Eyelids fluttering against the brightness, she smiled, relishing the warmth bathing her face. It had rained for a week straight, oppressing not only the land but her spirit. People needed sunshine. It lifted spirits, provided nutrients, helped the sickly to—
She jerked upright. Sunlight. She’d overslept!
After throwing the blankets aside, she wiggled her legs free of her tangled nightdress and crossed the room to the bureau for her timepiece. She groaned. Her internal clock normally wouldn’t let her sleep past sunrise. In all her years of nursing, she’d never reported late.
Her stomach soured at the scolding that was sure to come if Miss Barton discovered Annamae’s indiscretion. One did not want to disappoint Clara Barton. Especially when she’d been chosen over dozens of other nurses who’d applied to assist the Red Cross as a first responder during an emergency.
As fast as she could, she dressed, brushed and pinned her hair, tied a white apron over her brown dress, added her matching cap, and secured her shoes. Always tidy to a fault, she ignored her messy bed, slipped her coin purse into her pocket, and locked the door behind her. Though she enjoyed walking the mile to the hospital on sunny days, she’d take the streetcar this morning.
She raced down the two flights of stairs, threw open the door, and jolted to a stop. A sparkling lake covered D Street and most of the Washington Monument grounds. On Ohio Avenue, the water was almost as high as the first-story windows on the buildings. She’d seen the Potomac flood many times but never high enough to reach the monument.
To the west, children splashed in water that touched their knees. Laughter bounced off the brick structures. The water wasn’t as high on her end of D Street, but upon closer inspection, she discovered it contained bits of muck and debris floating in it. If the smell was any indication, the sewers had filled with river water and the contents were leeching up into the streets. She wished people were more concerned about situations that could cause contamination and infection. She’d like to give the parents of those children an earful for allowing them to play in such impure conditions.
Someday, perhaps, the medical field would create a medication that could battle the diseases caused by such bacteria. For now, cleanliness and avoidance were key.
She sighed. Unless they were patients in her hospital, she could no more tell those parents how to care for their children than she could tell President Harrison how to run the country. What she could do was find a way to the hospital for her shift. Doctor Martin was expecting her.
A horse and wagon plodded down 13th Street, sending sprays of water into the air with each step. The water wasn’t higher than the mare’s pastern, but it was too deep for Annamae to walk through. She didn’t know who the man was or where he was going, but maybe he’d allow her to ride along. She held out her arm and waved to gain the driver’s attention. At first glance, he turned away. Then his gaze swiveled to her again, and he nudged the horse closer to the street’s edge.
“Whoa,” he commanded the beast.
Annamae raised her skirt and skittered to avoid the tide soaking into her boots and uniform.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” His gray mustache was unkempt and touched the inside of his nose.
“I’m a nurse at Jericho Square Hospital. They’re expecting me, and I have no way of traveling through this water to get there. I know it’s a lot to ask of a stranger, but for the good of those poor souls awaiting my services, would you be so kind as to drive me?”
The portly man took off his hat, scratched his nearly balding head, and plopped it back on. “Well now, I suppose I can drive you as far as I can, but the streets south of here are under four feet of water, as well as most of Pennsylvania Avenue. The Potomac spilled into the Government Fishpond, and now fish are swimming all over this city. A carp two feet long was caught in the ladies’ waiting room at the Baltimore and Potomac station.”
“Oh my.” She could hardly imagine it. Annamae lifted her hand so he could assist her into the wagon, unsure if he was in earnest or an amazing storyteller. She perched on the bench beside him. “As close as you can get will do. Thank you, Mr… .”
“Elijah Kesbernan. And you are?”
Late for work. “Miss Annamae Worthington.”
He tipped his hat and set the horse into motion. “Well now, Miss Worthington, I’m not sure what you’re going to do once we reach the crossroads. Are you a good swimmer?”
He chuckled, and she smiled out of politeness. Of course she could swim, but that was out of the question.
Folks went about their business despite the situation, mostly men. The few women who had ventured out either held their hems indecently high to avoid saturation or let their skirts soak the water clear up to their thighs. Annamae was determined to report to her shift and do so spotlessly, if it was the last thing she did.
Two blocks south, the water had grown as high as the mare’s knees, and Mr. Kesbernan slowed to a stop. “Sorry I can’t get you farther, Miss Worthington, but the high water is carrying all kinds of debris, and I can’t chance injuring my horse.”
“I understand.” She looked around for a patch of dry ground on which to disembark. Boards and small items of all kinds floated in the water, but there was no place for her to land. “I wonder where all this debris came from.”
“The Potomac is rushing so forcefully, it’s knocked down every shanty on the river’s edge. The mills and the fertilizing works are half underwater too. All kinds of things are washing up.”
The river was always so calm, she could hardly believe it. “Has it really rained that much?”
His head tipped to the side. “Didn’t you hear? The South Fork Dam at Lake Conemaugh burst and destroyed what was Johnstown, Pennsylvania.”
“What was?”
“The whole city is gone. This morning’s paper estimates the deceased to be in the thousands.”
Annamae’s heart sank. “That must be at least a hundred miles from here. All this water can’t possibly be from that. Can it?”
“More like two hundred. The paper says the telegrams from Pittsburgh reported that when the dam broke, a wall of water close to sixty feet high raced down the mountain. All that flows southeast and combines with our already swollen waters, spelling disaster for us too.”
He handed her a folded newspaper he retrieved from his coat pocket. She skimmed the article that reiterated everything he’d just relayed as well as detailing the hundreds of houses and thousands of animal carcasses and human bodies that had traveled the tributaries for miles. All of Johnstown was destroyed in a matter of minutes.
Lord, have mercy.
Reporting to the hospital was vital now. If Johnstown was declared an emergency, and it needed to be, Miss Barton would call for her right away.
Annamae looked for another way to get to the hospital. Finding none, her frustration grew. She would be of no use to anyone if she arrived wet and filthy with nothing clean and dry to change into.
Movement caught her attention at the intersection of C Street and Louisiana Avenue. A rowboat floated down the usually crowded street. Both passengers cradled fishing poles. Annamae stood in the stationary wagon and waved her arms. “Hello there. Please, help me.”
She turned to Mr. Kesbernan. “Would you be willing to go just a little farther? I believe them to be my only hope of getting to the hospital.”
Mr. Kesbernan worked his lips beneath his mustache. The end of his red nose twitched. “Well now, I suppose I can. Best have a seat though.”
She obeyed, and he inched the horse and wagon forward while the men paddled their direction. At their approach, Annamae realized there were more than two men in the boat. A little girl, about age four, Annamae guessed, sat directly behind the lead man, clutching her doll. Upon closer inspection, the other adult passenger wasn’t a man at all but a woman in a dark brown dress tucked around her legs to reveal their shape. No hat. The woman’s hair was pulled so severely into a bun it tugged the skin around her eyes.
“Is everything all right, ma’am?” This gentleman had a mustache as well, but it was coal black. His blue eyes assessed Mr. Kesbernan as if looking for injury or danger.
“Could I trouble you for a ride to Jericho Square Hospital?” Annamae asked. “I’ll gladly pay you what I’d planned to spend on the streetcar.”
A deep wrinkle formed between the man’s eyebrows as his gaze raked over her cap and apron. “Jah, come aboard.”
He and Mr. Kesbernan assisted her into the boat. She bit back a squeal as her weight caused it to teeter. The girl giggled. The woman scooted over, making room for Annamae.
Mr. Kesbernan refused her offer of payment, wished them all a good day, and tugged on the reins. He turned his horse around and continued the way they’d come. The man guiding the boat swiveled to her and said, “Is it the hospital on 6th and Pennsylvania?”
“Yes, that’s it. Thank you, sir.” Annamae smiled at the little girl and engaged the woman in conversation as they rowed through the city. For a moment, she felt as if she were a character in The Merchant of Venice, enjoying a gondola ride through the watery streets. Such a thing was too bizarre for the capital city, and the moment didn’t last.
The woman had a thick German accent. From what Annamae could understand, the family had been fishing for their supper since the markets were closed from the flooding. Annamae explained about the sewers leeching into the streets and how important it was to make sure the fish was cleaned and cooked entirely through before consuming. She figured there would be many cases of bacteria and infection at the hospital over the next few days.
Twenty minutes later, the man stopped in front of the hospital. Annamae pulled coins from her purse and held them out to him. He reached out to accept, but his wife slapped his outstretched hand and glowered. The corners of his lips turned down. “Jah. My pleasure to be good citizen.”
Annamae smiled and returned the coins to her purse. “Thank you, both.”
She waved goodbye to the little girl, stood, and rocked the boat. She sat back down and gripped the sides.
A man wearing a blue and gray postal uniform with a bulging sack over his shoulder chuckled as he waded by. He offered to assist her, and, with his help, she stood again. Annamae frowned at the murky water. The hospital steps were too far away, and her shoes would be soaked through by the time she reached them. Maybe she could find dry stockings and an extra pair of shoes somewhere inside.
She yelped in surprise when the postal worker swept his arms beneath her and carried her to the steps. Annamae secured her hold around his neck. She’d never been carried by a man before. She’d helped carry plenty of men, however. Invalids. Her face heated as he lowered her to the first dry step.
“Special delivery.” The postal worker touched the brim of his cap and laughed as he continued wading along Pennsylvania Avenue.
With a chuckle, Annamae lifted her skirt, which was damp at the hem, and hurried inside the hospital.
She rushed down the hall and past the other nurses coming and going. When Doctor Martin stepped from a patient’s bedside, she caught him before he moved to the next.
“I apologize for my tardiness, Doctor.” She had difficulty catching her breath. “The streets are flooded, and I had trouble getting here without the streetcar.”
Doctor Martin smiled. Then he touched her elbow and led her to a vacant corner in the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it at all. I’m glad you’re safe.”
The handsome widower was always tender with her. They’d worked together for the past couple of years, and a month ago he’d expressed interest in wanting to become more than her superior. The prospect had both thrilled her and cloaked her with dread. She wanted a companion to journey beside in this life, but if they ever married, he would expect her to give up nursing to create a home—and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that yet.
“You’ve got a telegram in my office,” he said. “Have you seen the papers? Johnstown, Pennsylvania has been destroyed. Miss Clara Barton is leaving with a crew right away. She wants you to report to headquarters immediately.”
Her heart raced. This was it. After all those months of apprenticing under Miss Barton and earning her place within the Red Cross, the chance to use her skills and serve others had come. She went to fetch the telegram, but Doctor Martin caught her apron strings. She spun back around, her face filling with another round of heat. He chuckled while she sputtered and retied her bow.
“Don’t worry, no one was looking.”
“It isn’t funny.”
“Lighten up, Annamae.” His whispered scold was gentle. “Life is too short to be so serious all the time.”
His gaze wandered to some faraway place behind her. He was thinking of his wife, no doubt.
Her temper cooled.
“You just startled me is all.” When his attention swiveled back to her, she smiled her apology.
“I’m hoping I have time to escort you to dinner before you leave. If Johnstown is as bad as they say, I may not see you for a very long time.”
Will you miss me? The foolish words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. “You’ll have Martha to keep you in line.”
He rolled his eyes, eliciting a giggle from her. Martha was the oldest nurse at the hospital and the most scatterbrained. The staff spent as much time monitoring her as they did the patients. Even so, Martha’s job was secure since she was the older sister of the hospital’s director.
“Doctor Martin,” Nurse Bennett whisper-shouted from the other side of the room. She gestured to a lump completely covered with a sheet.
A patient gone to Jesus.
He held up a finger.
“The telegram is on my desk. If there’s time, Annamae, any time at all, please allow me to see you before you leave.”
She nodded and watched him walk away.
The delicate way he said her first name when no one else was around to hear was romantic enough to make her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. But adult relationships had very lasting consequences, and she wanted to be absolutely certain of her feelings for him before she led him any further. She enjoyed his company and their easy friendship and didn’t want to break his heart. Matthew had already suffered enough.
Walking at a fast clip, she went into his office and retrieved the telegram delivered at six o’clock this morning. She glanced at her timepiece. Ten thirty. She had to hurry to catch Miss Barton before the first responders left.
Annamae scribbled a quick note she left on Doctor Martin’s desk and exited the hospital, only to be reminded of the waterlogged streets. Well, there was nothing she could do other than remove her shoes, wad up her skirt, and walk. No matter the risk, she was not missing this opportunity with the Red Cross. Curious onlookers watched her as she prepared for her venture out.
The water was chilly, and she prayed she didn’t step on anything that would pierce her feet. Thankfully, at the end of the block, the water receded, and 8th Street was dry. She lowered her skirt but kept hold of her shoes. Dirt and grime stuck to the bottom of her stockings. No matter. Miss Barton would have a Red Cross uniform for her to change into anyway.
The streetcar was still running north on 9th Street. She waited, and when the next car arrived, she hopped on and paid the fare, ignoring the scandalized looks of the other passengers at her traveling without shoes. Three quarters of an hour later, she stepped off at the corner of 9th and I Street and hurried to the Red Cross Headquarters.
The building was abuzz with telegraph machines clicking and workers gathering and stacking supplies. Annamae found Miss Barton on the second floor, issuing orders to the porter regarding the delivery of her trunks to the train station.
The petite woman frowned at the shoes in Annamae’s grip and at her stockinged toes peeking out from the bottom of her skirt. Creases of disapproval appeared around her eyes and mouth. “Miss Worthington, there you are. I was about to send Jeffries to the hospital to fetch you.”
Annamae apologized and started into the story of why she was late and not wearing shoes, but Miss Barton held up her palm. “We haven’t time for excuses. However, there’s always time for propriety. Haven’t we discussed not allowing your passion to overshadow your good sense before? The Red Cross must maintain professionalism.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Annamae studied the floor.
Miss Barton relayed the details of Johnstown to Annamae. The devastation was as bad as the paper had described. “I need you packed and your trunk at the station by four. Bring only one. We’re meeting Doctor Hubbard and traveling as close to Johnstown as we can get. I’ve already alerted the Pittsburgh Red Cross to meet us there with supplies. The rest of the team will follow us in a few days. We must hurry, Miss Worthington. The survivors of Johnstown desperately need our help.”