Summary

Paul Lester The Great Galveston Disaster

When the young of us have grown old, when they, in their turn, are grand’thers, when a century of years has drifted past as sea-wreck drifts will the legend of Galveston be told and retold again, and white-faced children, clinging to the granddames’ robes, will listen to the story of how the storm-god came in rage, and how the gulf, beaten by his thong, rushed in and did his bidding. They will hear the awful story that will never die, the tale of how the tempest and the tide slew men as pestilence slays
Source: Gutenberg

Paul Lester The Great Galveston Disaster

But in the realm of finity, the weak and staggered senses of mankind may gather fragments of the disaster, and may strive with inevitable incompleteness to convey the merest impression of the saddest story which ever engaged the efforts of a reporter.
Galveston! The mournful dirges of the breakers which lash the beach can not in the remaining centuries of the world give expression to the sorrow and woe which throbs here to-day; and if the sobbing waves and sighing winds, God’s great funeral choir, fail, how can the weak pen and appalled imaginations of men perform the task?
Source: Gutenberg

Paul Lester The Great Galveston Disaster

Identification is impossible deep down among the mysteries of the sea.
The tragedy grows greater every moment. The romances dead to the world, the grief lost beneath the wave or carried to the vapors above the earth, the aching hearts soothed by lasting peace, the tired souls in the arms of endless rest, the ambitions stilled by the calm which banishes the anguish of life’s dreary struggle—it matters not what these rings may bring to mind—we are yet confronted with the loss of the thousands who shall never again press these wave-kissed shores.
Source: Gutenberg

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