1913 Omaha Nebraska Tornado

     In the Bemis Park district hundreds of homes lay in shapeless ruins. Some of the city's most substantial business men were missing from their offices Monday morning. They were busy nailing boards across the front doorways of their homes, which the day before were resplendent in Easter' holiday decorations.

     Society women who shone in the "Easter parade" on Sunday were picking up their silverware out of the grass, digging keepsakes out of ditches and looking longingly up into the trees at the remains of their Easter finery.

     Hundreds of society women and business men, wedged closely between those of humbler station in life, waited hours in line at the "information stations," for passes, so that they might not be turned away from their homes.

     R. B. Busch, vice president of the Crane company, had a hammer in his right hand, and pounded vigorously to board up the windows, of his residence at Thirty-eighth and California. His is one of the finest residences in that neighborhood, and was built three years ago under the personal direction of Mr. Busch. The Busch residence was whipped about on all sides by the twister, and timbers driven endwise through walls.

     The Genoa apartments, three-story building at 3830 Cass street, were blown out like a candle. The building was not demolished, but every apartment was swept clean of furniture and hangings. Every window was blown out and pieces of the furniture were hurled through walls a quarter of a mile away. Six families were moving--they had not much to move--out of the apartments early Monday morning.

     The big Catholic cathedral, in course of construction, did not suffer the loss of a brick. Bishop Scannell's residence at Thirty-sixth and Burt streets, was badly damaged. Bishop Scannell was at home, but was uninjured. St. Cecilia's school building had many windows broken, and fences about it were torn down.

     The Methodist hospital presented a desolate picture, and the walks leading to it were crowded with anxious relatives who pleaded with lines of guards to permit them to visit a sick person dear to them. Paler faces might be seen coming in at the front door than on the white cots that were huddled together in the dismal wards, their narrow confines crowded to the limit with storm victims taken to the hospital during the night because they must be taken somewhere and a hospital with the windows broken out was considered better than the open roadside.

     Miss Ella Holmes and Miss Flora Cassell, nurses at the Methodist hospital, were seriously injured when the walls of the nurses' home, 803 North Thirty-fifth street, crumbled in the wind. Miss Cassell's right foot was amputated and she died two days later.

     G. W. Stipe, laborer, stood outside of his burning home at Twenty-eighth and Franklin, with his young son beside him. Both were slightly bruised, and what clothing they had managed to save was scanty and torn. With his hand on his son's shoulder, Mr. Stipe received the consolation of casual passers-by with excellent spirit.

    "I feel. like one of the richest men in Omaha," he said, "though I have no hat, and there goes up in smoke all the savings of my life. I have worked hard many a year for that little home, but somehow I can't cry about the loss of it. Here is my son, safe and more or less sound, and my wife and daughter are visiting in Lincoln. I would not have had them witness this for any money. So you see I am indeed fortunate."

     Not a dollar's worth of goods was left of Stipe's possessions.

     Street car number 862, on the North Twenty-fourth street line, was almost totally demolished by the cyclone. It was caught close to the corner of Twenty-fourth and Lake streets. There were ten passengers on the car, and all were injured.

     Conductor Charles J. Caldwell, residing at Forty-first and Fowler streets, said: "I was on the back platform, when I saw the cyclone coming. I gave the signal to stop, shouted to my passengers that a cyclone was coming, and ran for a basement of an unfinished building. I jumped into the basement, and three or four passengers were beside me. Wreckage flew over us, and a lot of boards were piled on top of us.

     "It seemed to me that the horror lasted about two minutes. Then I crawled out and picked up two of my passengers, a man and a woman, who were lying unconscious in the street."

     How anybody, could live in the car of which Caldwell was conductor is a mystery to those viewing the wreck. Every window was broken out, bricks and debris of all kinds, were piled inside the car and every seat was torn loose. A scantling was driven through the car and wedged between the seats and the side of the car.

     Caldwell did not secure the names of any of his passengers. "I didn't quite have time to make out accident reports, as required by the rules of the company," said Caldwell; "but I am complying with the rule about not deserting the car." He stayed by his wrecked car all night, and until 4:45 the following morning. A horse and buggy were wedged under the car.

     Decatur and Franklin streets were filled with debris and lined with blazing homes for three quarters of a mile, immediately after the cyclone. As the fires spread the destitute families wrapped their wet and ragged garments about them and hurried toward the central portion of the city.

     The high hill overlooking the scene of desolation in the Decatur district was early crowded with the destitute and injured victims of the storm, scores of men and women weeping silently as they watched the wrecks of their homes lighting up the lowering sky.

     Many of the victims, exhausted and almost hysterical, gathered together in family groups and sat on the sidewalks through the cold rain that followed the cyclone.

     For three hours the fires lighted up the sky. As the light died down the refugees from the stricken district wandered aimlessly on, unable to command the services of any vehicle unless there were a very badly injured one in the family.

     Mrs. G. E. Medlock was about to give birth to a baby, when her home at Twenty-ninth and Decatur streets was blown to atoms. Her husband was badly cut about the head, and two little daughters were injured. Most of the clothing was torn from the bodies of all members of the family.

    Mrs. Medlock, attended only by her children and injured husband, lay in a roofless house for four hours, drenched with rain. A motor hearse was stopped by the injured man, and took Mrs. Medlock to the home of a friend. She is reported to be in serious condition.

     Mr. and Mrs. Planteen of 2710 Decatur, rushed to the basement when they saw the storm coming. With their arms locked about each other they waited, while their home crashed about their ears.

      When they had been rescued, Mrs. Planteen, standing amid the wreckage of her house, wept bitterly because two dogs, "Raffles" and "Toddy," both registered and worth about $500 each, were killed. Mr. Planteen, a carpenter, was keeping the dogs for a friend.

     The family of John Gotisdinner, 2610 Franklin, fared badly in the storm, though none was killed. Three sons, John, Abe, and Joseph, were severely injured, and the house was demolished.

     Miss Mary Lieberman, 2827 Franklin, was cut by flying glass.

     The home of Walter Petersen, a two-story brick structure standing on a high hill at Twenty-eighth and Decatur, was completely demolished. Neighbors searched in the ruins, but found no trace of anyone, living or dead. There were seven children in the Petersen family.