I stepped on the platform of one of the gondola cars, and looking east of the river, I saw what appeared like a bank of water coming with fearful velocity. Rolling at great height in its passage it showed trees, roots and bodies of trees, with debris of all kinds.
I ran about 50 yards up the street, took a long breath, and upon turning around, saw a building halfway across the street at the point I had passed not 30 seconds before. The next instant it dashed against the corner and was surrounded by five or six feet of water. The force of the water lifted up and dashed the buildings one against another.
The roaring of the rushing, fearful water, the tumbling and crashing of the buildings, and the wailing and cries of the women and children, no pen can describe. One poor woman came to me in agonizing distress, with her gaze so intent as if to pierce the water, crying out “Oh my baby! My dear baby is in the water!”
From Beale’s The Johnstown Flood
