. L. Green was on his back porch watching the storm when it broke. He
said:

"It came like a rushing and roaring torrent of water and passed right by
us to the east. I went to my attic window immediately afterward and saw
fires bursting forth from houses along the path of the storm. I could
see five fires burning at once. The flames made a ghastly sight as they
illuminated acres of razed buildings nearby."

FREAK TRAGEDIES

Among the freak tragedies of the tornado none is more remarkable than
that at the Idlewild pool hall, Twenty-fourth and Lake Streets.
Twenty-five negroes were killed. The story is told by the single
survivor, John Brown, who was dug from the wreckage twelve hours after
the demolition of the building.

"Eight men were playing pool at one table," Brown says. "The rest of us
were standing about watching. Without a moment's warning a terrific roar
swept down through the room. The roof suddenly was lifted from above.
The pool table shot straight upward, many feet into the air.

"All of us still were unhurt."

Insane with fear, but wondering, the negroes rushed beneath the open
roof and gazed upward. Then the heavy pool table and pieces of the roof
shot down. All were caught. Brown was dug from the wreckage twelve hours
later, uninjured.

HOUSE SPLIT ASUNDER

Huddled with his family in the basement of his home at 3229 Cuming
Street, Prof. E. W. Hunt saw the house split asunder. When he recovered
consciousness beneath the wreckage he discovered that a last summer
straw hat was cocked on the back of his head. It had been hanging in a
bedroom closet three stories above before the tornado struck the house.

The body of a girl about four was dropped into the arms of a pedestrian,
Charles Allen, at Forty-fifth and Center Streets. Efforts to identify
the child failed.

In a field half a mile from their home were found the bodies of Mrs.
Mary Rathkey and her two grown sons, Frank and James. All three were
dead but no bruises were found. The wind had cut their clothing
completely away.

Mrs. F. Bryant, ninety-two, lived with her son, Dr. D. C. Bryant, at
3006 Sherman Avenue. She was in bed on the third floor of the house when
the tornado struck. The three floors beneath her were shifted out and
her bed fell to the basement. Except for the shock she was uninjured.
Dr. Bryant and his wife were dropped to the basement from the ground
floor. They, too, miraculously escaped injury.

VIVID TALES OF