The western American city of San Francisco, California suffered a huge earthquake on April 18th, 1906.
Morethanthreethousandpeople are known to havedied. The truenumber of dead will never be known. Twohundredfiftythousandpeoplelosttheirhomes. Just a fewhoursafter the terribleearthquake, a magazinenamed Collier’s sent a telegraphmessage to the famousAmericanwriterJackLondon. TheyaskedMr. London to go to SanFrancisco and reportaboutwhat he saw.
He arrived in the cityonly a fewhoursafter the earthquake. The report he wrote is called, “The Story of an Eyewitness.”
Not in history has a moderncity been socompletelydestroyed. SanFrancisco is gone. Nothingremains of it but memories and a fewhomes that werenear the edge of the city. Its industrialarea is gone. Its businessarea is gone. Its social and livingareas are gone. The factories, greatstores and newspaperbuildings, the hotels and the hugehomes of the veryrich, are allgone.
Withinminutes of the earthquake the firesbegan. Within an hour a hugetower of smokecaused by the firescould be seen a hundredmilesaway. And for threedays and nights this hugefiremoved in the sky, reddening the sun, darkening the day and filling the landwithsmoke.
There was no opposing the flames. There was no organization, no communication. The earthquake had smashedall of the moderninventions of a twentiethcenturycity. The streetswerebroken and filledwithpieces of fallenwalls. The telephone and telegraphsystemswerebroken. And the greatwaterpipes had burst. Allinventions and safetyplans of man had been destroyed by thirtyseconds of movement by the earth.
By Wednesdayafternoon, onlytwelvehoursafter the earthquake, half the heart of the city was gone. I watched the hugefire. It was verycalm. There was no wind. Yet from everyside, wind was pouring in upon the city. East, west, north and south, strongwindswereblowingupon the dyingcity.
The heatedairmade a hugewind that pulledairinto the fire, risinginto the atmosphere. Day and night the calmcontinued, and yet, near the flames, the wind was often as strong as a storm.
There was no water to fight the fire. Firefightersdecided to useexplosives to destroybuildings in its path. Theyhoped this wouldcreate a block to slow or stop the fire. Buildingafterbuilding was destroyed. And still the greatfirescontinued. JackLondontoldhowpeopletried to savesome of theirpossessions from the fire.
Wednesdaynight the wholecitycrashed and roaredintoruin, yet the city was quiet. Therewere no crowds. There was no shouting and yelling. There was no disorder. I passedWednesdaynight in the path of the fire and in allthoseterriblehours I saw not onewomanwhocried, not onemanwho was excited, not onepersonwhocausedtrouble.
San Francisco Earthquake Fire
Throughout the night, tens of thousands of homelessonesfled the fire. Somewerewrapped in blankets. Otherscarriedbedding and dearhouseholdtreasures.
Many of the poorlefttheirhomeswitheverythingtheycouldcarry. Many of theirloadswereextremelyheavy. Throughout the nighttheydroppeditemstheycould no longerhold. Theyleft on the streetclothing and treasuresthey had carried for miles.
Manycarriedlargeboxescalledtrunks. Theyheldontothese the longest. It was a hardnight and the hills of SanFrancisco are steep. And upthesehills, mileaftermile, were the trunksdragged. Many a strongmanbrokehisheart that night.
Before the march of the fireweresoldiers. Theirjob was to keep the peoplemovingaway from the fire. The extremelytiredpeoplewouldarise and struggleup the steephills, pausing from weaknesseveryfive or tenfeet. Often, afterreaching the top of a heart-breaking hill, theywouldfind the fire was moving at them from a differentdirection.
Afterworkinghourafterhourthrough the night to savepart of theirlives, thousandswereforced to leavetheirtrunks and flee.
At night I walkeddownthrough the veryheart of the city. I walkedthroughmileaftermile of beautifulbuildings. Here was no fire. All was in perfectorder. The policepatrolled the streets. And yet it was alldoomed, all of it. There was no water. The explosiveswerealmostusedup. And twohugefireswerecomingtoward this part of the city from differentdirections.
Fourhourslater I walkedthrough this samepart of the city. Everythingstillstood as before. And yetthere was a change. A rain of ashes was falling. The police had been withdrawn. Therewere no firemen, no fireengines, and no menusingexplosives. I stood at the corner of Kearney and MarketStreets in the veryheart of SanFrancisco. Nothingcould be done. Nothingcould be saved. The surrender was complete.
It was impossible to guesswhere the firewouldmovenext. In the earlyevening I passedthroughUnionSquare. It was packedwithrefugees. Thousands of them had gone to bed on the grass. Governmenttents had been setup, food was beingcooked and the refugeeswereliningup for freemeals.
Late that night I passedUnionSquareagain. Threesides of the Squarewere in flames. The Square, withmountains of trunks, was deserted. The troops, refugees and all had retreated.
The nextmorning I sat in front of a home on SanFrancisco’s famousNobHill. WithmesatJapanese, Italians, Chinese and Negroes. Allaboutwere the hugehomes of the veryrich. To the east and south of us wereadvancingtwohugewalls of fire.
I wentinsideonehouse and talked to the owner. He smiled and said the earthquake had destroyedeverything he owned. All he had left was hisbeautifulhouse. He looked at me and said, “The fire will be here in fifteenminutes.”
Outside the house the troopswerefallingback and forcing the refugeesahead of them. From everysidecame the roaring of flames, the crashing of walls and the sound of explosives.
Day was trying to dawnthrough the heavysmoke. A sicklylight was creepingover the face of things. When the sunbrokethrough the smoke it was blood-red and small. The smokechangedcolor from red to rose to purple.
Pulling Down the Walls of Great Business Buildings
I walkedpast the brokendome of the CityHallbuilding. This part of the city was already a waste of smokingruins. Here and therethrough the smokecame a fewmen and women. It was like the meeting of a fewsurvivors the dayafter the worldended.
The hugefirescontinued to burn on. Nothingcouldstopthem. MisterLondonwalked from place to place in the city, watching the hugefiresdestroy the city. Nothingcould be done to halt the firestorm.
In the end, the firewent out by itselfbecausethere was nothingleft to burn. JackLondonfinisheshisstory:
AlldayThursday and allThursdaynight, alldayFriday and Fridaynight, the flamesraged on. Fridaynightsaw the hugefiresfinallyconquered, but not before the fires had sweptthree-quarters of a mile of docks and storehouses at the waterfront.
A Temporary Home Near the City Hall
SanFrancisco at the presenttime is like the center of a volcano. Around this volcano are tens of thousands of refugees. All the surroundingcities and towns are jammedwith the homelessones. The refugeeswerecarriedfree by the railroads to anyplacetheywished to go. It is said that morethanonehundredthousandpeoplehaveleft the peninsula on whichSanFranciscostood.
Providing for homeless thousands - delivering bread at Commissary tent
The government has control of the situation, and thanks to the immediatereliefgiven by the wholeUnitedStates, there is no lack of food. The bankers and businessmenhavealreadybegunmaking the necessaryplans to rebuild this oncebeautifulcity of SanFrancisco.
"The Story of an Eyewitness" was written by JackLondon and adapted by PaulThompson. It was published in Collier’s Magazine, May 5, 1906. Yournarrator was DougJohnson.
Jack London was an American novelist, journalist, and social activist. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction. Some of his most famous works include The Call of the Wild and White Fang, both set in the Klondike Gold Rush, as well as the short stories "To Build a Fire", "An Odyssey of the North", and "Love of Life". He also wrote of the South Pacific in such stories as "The Pearls of Parlay" and "The Heathen", and of the San Francisco Bay area in The Sea Wolf. (Source: Wikipedia)