A SUMMER OF WONDERS

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 22, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 43.

“A SUMMER OF WONDERS.”

A Gruesome Visitation.

MANY who were formerly students at Drew Theological Seminary have heard in an indirect way that something awful has happened to the town of Madison, N. Y., during the past summer. They constantly inquire from remote parts what it is; and surely it was something awful, unparalleled indeed in many of its aspects.

Sunday afternoon, August 10, was somewhat rainy, but the fall until half-past eight was comparatively light. Then heavy thunder and terrific lightning began. At nine o’clock the rain came down with incredible force. As it struck the pavement a blinding mist arose. People who lived only a door or two away were unable to leave the Methodist church for two hours. Two miles and a half from Madison, to the west, stands St. Elizabeth’s Academy, on an elevation considerably above Madison. From that point along the macadamized roads waters accumulated until they were reinforced in the vicinity of Madison by similar streams running over the macadamized roads from the hills in all directions.

The brook which crosses Main Street, Madison, twice between the square and the entrance to Hillside Cemetery, a beautiful cemetery extending from a high hill to the sidewalk, had become a raging torrent. It rushed along the boulevard, several feet in depth, and when it reached the cemetery it burst a culvert and washed out the earth from four to twelve feet in depth and about seventy-five feet wide, extending entirely across the cemetery, carrying with it destruction and producing the most fearful scene imaginable. Sixty bodies were washed from their graves and carried down the stream, left high upon the hillsides, and even entangled in the branches of trees. A rescuing party was formed, and with lanterns, ropes, pikes, and other instruments, they toiled all night and well into the morning hours to rescue the bodies, those over whom

the words “Rest in peace” had been sculptured, but who were thus mysteriously dislodged. Wrenched from crushed caskets and coffins by fearful force, many of the bodies were quickly buried in sand, mud, and débris, or thrown upon the meadows shroudless and dismembered, far from the stream’s regular course.

In the morning hastily extemporized pine coffins were placed upon the green sward in rows of ten, surrounded by relatives of the dead, until most were identified. There were many walking to and fro “wringing their hands in anguish and weeping piteously.” The day after the scene we visited the spot, and such effects of water upon beautiful estates, well-kept grounds, culverts, and the park given to the town by the munificence of D. Willis James, we have seldom seen. This has been a summer of wonders.—Christian Advocate.