Chapter Fourteen
SEPTEMBER 18th 1926
Hurricane season and September in particular, always calls up recollections of the greatest disaster of nature in the history of Florida. Even now, almost a half-century later, newspapers continue to carry feature articles on the subject. It was on the 18th of September 1926 that a killer hurricane struck Moore Haven.
It might occur to some to wonder why Sebring should make the story of a Moore Haven disaster a part of Sebring historical records. The answer is very simple. Sebring sent in the first relief crew. The surviving victims of the storm were evacuated to Sebring and the bodies of some who lost their lives there were sent to Sebring for burial. And the headquarters for national relief and assistance for Moore Haven citizens was set up in Sebring. For many years, Sebring was the haven to which residents of the Okeechobee and Everglades areas hurried for refuge every time a hurricane was imminent.
In September 1928, an equally ferocious hurricane struck the Okeechobee area but that year, it unleashed its fury on the east and south shores of the lake, killing many and causing great property damage. But 1928 is another story and is adequately documented by the great Florida historian, Lawrence E. Will, in his book “Okeechobee Hurricane and the Hoover Dike.” Here, again, Sebring sent in relief crews and provided space in its municipal cemetery for victims.
The last great exodus to Sebring in the expectation of a hurricane was in 1949 when fifteen boxcar loads of people were brought out of the Glades area. Most of them were housed in buildings on the airport for several days and were catered by volunteers from Sebring.
The government has built great protective earth dikes around Lake Okeechobee and these have practically eliminated all hazards of wind tides and drowning in the area but a few people still spend a few days in Sebring motels when hurricanes are forecast and almost every square foot of hangar space on the Sebring airport is reserved in advance for shelter of planes from the south end of the state in event of hurricane prediction.
The hurricanes which have struck Florida have a very definite place in the history of Sebring!
There are many accounts of the tragic events at Moore Haven during the hurricane of 18 September 1926, one of most accurate of which is found in the excellent book by the Drs. Alfred and Kathryn Hanna, “Lake Okeechobee.” This, very graphically, outlines the story in a few paragraphs - “In September, a man-sized hurricane struck the lower east coast of Florida. After it had knocked Miami aside, it streaked across the Everglades in a northwesterly direction, ‘Whipped up the waters of Okeechobee over the mud dikes, which crumbled easily and, on September 18th, deposited its swirling tide in the lap of Moore Haven. Between three and four hundred people were killed or injured; the town was completely ruined. The entire country was shocked and stunned - - -.
“Quarreling broke out also over the relief program. The Red Cross immediately moved into action in the whole storm-swept region - - -.
“Meanwhile the people of Moore Haven suffered. Some 1,200 refugees were moved away from the floods. Fully 800 were sent to Sebring, 200 to Lakeport, and 200 to Okeechobee City. When Howard Sharp, who knew nearly everyone in Moore Haven, inspected it on October 2, he called it a “town without a soul”; he was speaking literally. The militia and relief workers were in possession. Those permitted to enter waited outside the flood areas to be carried in military trucks which stood high enough off the ground to pass through the water without drowning their engines. Three weeks after the hurricane, water stood two to three feet deep in Moore Haven streets, cluttered with such debris as a baby’s chair partly broken, a patchwork quilt, a kitchen stove, a trunk and a piece of roof. As soon as possible, fifty citizens a day were brought into town to find their belongings. After the railroad track was repaired more were admitted, but even yet everyone was taken out at night. The hotel righted itself in a short time - about four weeks; after that those who could get accommodations in it were allowed to remain overnight. Relief was handicapped by the slowness with which water receded from the lowlands around Moore Haven and also by another storm on October 30 which disrupted relief work even if it cost no loss of life.”
This description is so accurate that it could be imagined that the Drs. Hanna had been on the scene at the time. There are some details of those days of horror that still remain fresh in the memories of those who lived through them.
Two men in a battered car brought the first news of the hurricane to Sebring just after dark on Saturday night. Mr. George E. Sebring immediately took charge of the situation in Sebring and called a conference with the chiefs of police and fire departments. The refugees told of their difficulties in negotiating the tree-clogged, washed-out roads so it was evident that a relief team could not get through by the highway. Mr. Sebring arranged with the Atlantic Coast Line for a two-car train while Police chief Tom Worley and a contingent of volunteer firemen rounded up every row boat and outboard motor that could be located.
Other groups of firemen collected relief supplies, first aid equipment and personnel. All these were loaded aboard the train which started south shortly before midnight. Progress was slow as it was often necessary to stop to remove debris from the right-of-way and to inspect bridges for safety. By daybreak, the party had reached Palmdale and an impassable washout. Here, the supplies and boats were transferred to small flat cars and “power tops” which were propelled by gasoline engines.
The railroad right-of-way, being the highest terrain, was well populated by all kinds of wildlife from snakes to deer, none of which made too much effort to leave it to make way for the cars. As the relief crew neared Moore Haven the results of the storm were more evident. At one point, the roadbed was washed away for more than 50 yards but the track held together by cross-ties, was like a suspension bridge which swayed recklessly under the cars. Great islands of hyacinths were banked against road fills and bridge abutments and they provided a place for small animals to keep their heads above the water that covered all the land for a dozen miles north of Moore Haven.
Within six miles before reaching the town, it was necessary to abandon the cars and take to the boats. A couple of miles further, the cars of a freight train were passed. They had been blown and washed a hundred yards from where the tracks had been. It was a grotesque sight to see the big steel gondolas and boxcars that far from the place where they should have been.
The members of the expedition had been selected with the idea of having a head for each of the functions that might be encountered, with the thought that more personnel would be following as quickly as transportation could be arranged. None of party had had any previous experience in this type of emergency so there could not be any preconceived plan of action but at a hasty council it was determined that every human must be evacuated as quickly as possible. Few objections were encountered on the part of the Moore Haven citizens. The streets were the highest spots in town and these were knee deep in water. Only the two-story buildings afforded any place to cook or sleep. The homes of most of the residents had been destroyed and many of them had seen their relatives swept away and drowned.
A concentration point was established from which boats were loaded and to which all residents were directed so that they could rejoin friends and relatives. Sebring policeman, “Red” Cleaver, and several others started the roundup of all people in town and around the outlying areas. Dr. J. W. Mitchell set up operations and ministered to those who needed his services. He was kept busy as there were many injured. Although he was present at only two cases, seven children were born during the emergency, one of which was reported to have arrived on the roof of a house that had been swept off its foundations.
Mike Kahn, one of Sebring’s leading merchants, was designated as supply officer. He contacted such Moore Haven merchants as remained and arranged for material and noted the party’s needs that could not be supplied locally. Then, he arranged to have them sent from Sebring. He was one of the most valuable men in the party as most of the merchandise in town was rendered unfit for use, by the storm. Strangely enough, shoes were an item in very short supply but the most needed item was water. An effort was made to boil enough but the demand was too great and the only water available was that which covered the entire countryside. Mike unearthed a five gallon jug of moonshine whiskey which was so foul tasting that there was no danger of anyone using it for a purpose other than to kill what germs may have been in the drinking water.
It was nothing short of miraculous how smoothly the operation got underway and how the populace was moved out. They were loaded into boats and moved on a canal on the west side of the railroad fill for a couple of miles but there it was necessary for them to disembark and cross the fill to other boats that took them north for another couple miles to a point where the work cars took them to the waiting trains. Some of the more hardy walked the last remaining miles to relieve the burden on the small cars.
The first train to go south on Saturday night consisted of a locomotive, two boxcars and a caboose. It carried such supplies as could be assembled quickly and a cadre composed of J. W. Mitchell, M.D., Mike Kahn, H. G. Eastwood, Glen Skipper, Ernest Roberts, Jack Cleaver, N. N. Vann, 0. C. White, George Wyandt and Allen Altvater. But more equipment and personnel, were vitally needed and, at the Sebring end, these supplies were gathered and forwarded.
E. J. Durkin tells of this operation which he organized very efficiently on Sunday - “At about four o’clock on Sunday morning I was awakened by a pounding on my door. It proved to be news that a courier had gotten through from Moore Haven with the news that the little city had been wiped out.
“I was president of the Chamber of Commerce at the time, so they looked to me to do something about sending relief. With the help of everyone - including men, women and kids; we gathered all available outboard motors and the few rowboats then in existence. The ladies came with blankets, clothing and food. Gallons of hot coffee were prepared; there were lanterns, axes and coils of rope.
“Authority arrived to take over the Atlantic Coast Line’s train (a combination freight and passenger) that was lying in Sebring and along toward evening we took off. There was quite a gang and the excitement ran high and now I can recall only Dan Andrews, Payne Sebring, Rhesa Norris, Sid Jaeger, Red Cook and a few others. We reached a spot; it was either Newhall or Muckway, beyond which the train could not go. From there, we used the work cars provided the track repair crews, but were not permitted to start before daybreak. It was here that we picked up some of the refugees that worked their way up the railroad right-of-way - - .”
It is unfortunate that no writers or photographers were on the scene to record the many acts of heroism and mercy that took place during these first few days. Many of the relief workers continued their duties for 48 and even 72 hours without sleep as they realized the necessity of searching every conceivable place where a person might be marooned or suffering. Those who had lived through the storm were almost crazed by their experiences and, to add to the confusion, word got around that another storm was on its way. On Monday, rain started again and made life miserable for everyone, but in the first 48 hours, 922 persons had been moved out by boat and another 500 or more walked the railroad fill to the trains.
The command post was the nerve center of the operation. It was from here that boats were dispatched to points where rumor had it that a family was stranded. It was from here that tabs were kept on boats that went out and were overdue in returning. Here, people came to get shoes and clothing; to inquire about relatives or to report accidents. Here, the bodies of the dead were brought in and identified. And here, the campaign decisions (and mistakes) were made. After the first two or three days and nights under pressure, without rest, minds did not function too clearly.
Tuesday was clear and warm and, as a result, the submerged bodies of hundreds of drowned animals came to the surface and created such a stench that many of the workers had to be relieved and sent back to Sebring. Many of the human bodies also came to the surface but they were in such a condition that made them difficult to handle and this phase of the work created a new problem. Fortunately, by that time, most of the residents had been evacuated and, as all approach roads to the area were cut off by water, sightseers were not a problem as they could not get in.
Even though the demand for drinking water was greatly curtailed by the exodus of the residents, the need became very acute. Those who remained would rather be almost perishing from thirst than drink the water that smelled so bad and which they knew must be contaminated. And the moonshine was long since exhausted. They were told that Mr. Sebring had started two cases of bonded liquor by special messengers but it never arrived. Some water did arrive in five gallon cans and, even though some of it tasted of gasoline, it was most welcome.
A relief crew had been assembled in the northern part of the state and it was staffed with doctors and nurses. They were supposed to take over from the original party but on the train trip down, most of them had sampled the medicinal supplies too frequently so that, instead of being a help, they were a problem and this may have been a part of the quarrels to which the Drs. Hanna referred. By the time they arrived, there was small need for doctors and nurses in Moore Haven and they were relieved quickly by the militia but the Sebring party was glad to turn over the entire operation to them when they were able to assume responsibility. All of the rescue work had been accomplished and most of the bodies had been recovered. On Thursday, the Sebring party returned to Sebring where they found a situation that was much more confusing than that at Moore Haven.
But, at least, it was a comfortable confusion. Even the refugees had dry places in which to sleep; there was plenty of good, palatable drinking water and cooked food; and there weren’t hundreds of animal bodies floating around everywhere.
Again quoting Mr. Durkin, “As for the services of the local merchants who, can ever forget the terrific job turned in by Mike Kahn? Chuck Albright and Jack Lindsey practically bankrupted themselves in their efforts to clothe those who could not be fitted from contributed clothing. McRae, Cobb, Hinckley, Durrance, Paul Cater - all stand high on the list of those who served.
The American Red Cross sent a trained team of relief workers from Washington to Sebring and set up an office where the refugees made application for grants to replace clothing and other necessities of life; to repair or replace their homes and restock their small farms. Here again, was another source of quarreling as requests for assistance were, in many cases, far in excess of available supplies of money and materials or were for items not furnished in normal Red Cross procedure.
Special mention should be made the hospitality that Sebring extended to the refugees. Hotels and homes were opened to these unfortunates who were complete strangers and they were made welcome even though it was for some weeks until they could return to the Moore Haven area.
About a month after the disaster, some who had participated in the rescue work held a session at which each of the members recalled the incidents of the emergency that impressed him most. Some of these memories are most interesting.
On Monday evening, A. L. Butler arrived in Moore Haven and reported to the command post for assignment of duties. A cold, nasty rain was falling and Al noticed that one of the workers who had been on duty continuously since Sunday morning was drenched and shivering so, although Al knew that he too would soon be just as miserable, he insisted that his friend take his warm raincoat.
An old man, carrying a suitcase, was being transferred from one boat to another. A relief worker offered a helping hand with the suitcase an was astonished at its weight. He asked what it contained and the old man said, “Everything I own in this world.” When it was examined, it was found to contain a change of overalls, some kitchen cutlery and two steel plow points.
Outboard boat motors in 1926 were not the powerful engines of today. The largest was not more than five horsepower and they were far from being dependable or even predictable. In rescue operations, time was an important element so, when a motor failed, it was replaced by one that would function. At one time, before arrangements could be made to bring in mechanics to repair them, a pile of about fifty non-operating motors had accumulated and were stacked like cordwood. When the Red Cross and militia took over the work, they would not permit any of the motors or boats to leave the area as they had not brought this type of equipment with them. They promised to take good care of these and to see that they were returned, but when Sebring owners later wanted their boats and motors returned, they could not be found.
Men who walked the railroad fill to the trains, told that small animals and snakes were either so frightened or so exhausted by the storm that they made little or no effort to avoid people. One man related that be sat down on the rails to rest a few minutes and when be got up to resume his trek be noticed that he had been sitting within a couple feet of a large rattler which made no belligerent move and did not even go into a coil as he passed on. However, be was responsible for an order that there would be no pedestrian movement after dark.
One indelible impression that remained in the minds of all relief workers was the distorted, discolored and bloated bodies of the unfortunates who lost their lives in the flood. After several days in the water, the only way they could be brought in was to tow them behind the boat and then they were rolled in blankets to be brought ashore. Very resolute and strong men were required for this job and even with them, the nightmarish image remained for months.
Among the evacuees was a very young baby girl; all of her relatives had been lost in the storm. It was only a short time until she was adopted by Mr. & Mrs. Fax Haskins, and since reaching adulthood she has spent much of her spare time in volunteer work with the Red Cross. Her finest work has been on the Water Safety Committee in which she has accomplished notable results.
Possibly the most dramatic incident of the entire five hectic days, was enacted on the evening of Monday at the point where the evacuees were transferred from boats on one side of the railroad fill to boats on the other side. At this point, the depth of the water was well over a man’s head. The night was dark and the rain fell in a steady, drenching downpour. On the fill were seven men, seven small children and three women. Four of the men were put into the smaller forward boat which was to tow the larger second boat which held the women and children. The remaining three men were to wait for the return of the boat to pick them up.
The two boats had barely gotten under way when the sides of the towed boat separated from the transom and it immediately started to sink and, with it, the forward boat was swamped. The screams of the women and children brought instant response and as the boat sank very slowly, the entire group was brought ashore. The hand of the Lord was certainly with that party that night because the rescue was made entirely by instinct as it was impossible to see clearly for a distance of more than a few feet.
Fortunately, the outboard motor would still operate and after the lead boat was bailed out, the women and children continued the trip. They were almost subjected to additional hardships for they were just arriving at the train when it started to pull out; those in charge believing that the last boat was already in. The shouts of the pilot from the boat attracted attention just in time to prevent a miserable night out on a rain-soaked railroad track.
One of the men who helped save the lives of the women and children said he didn’t mind jumping into the canal because it helped him get rid of some of the rainwater that his clothes had absorbed.
Mr. Lewis Thomas, of Okeechobee City, tells of Natt Bass who was swept overboard from a boat at the height of the storm. His companions were powerless to give him any help and were certain that he had drowned. However, he was washed against a tree which he succeeded in climbing and to which he clung tenaciously for the balance of the day and all of the night even though he learned soon after arriving, that he was sharing his precarious shelter with a full-grown Florida wildcat. Both were so intent on his own safety that neither bothered the other.
The tremendous loss of life in the Moore Haven area was caused by two principal conditions:-
1) The people had no previous experience with this type of storm, so when the “eye” arrived, they felt that the hurricane was over so they were caught away from their shelter when the full blast of the second part hit in all its fury.
2) They were totally unprepared for the enormous “wind tide” that was built up and rolled over the entire countryside, crumbling their flimsy frame buildings like matchboxes. In 1926 there were no protecting dikes to hold back the waters of Lake Okeechobee.
(This article is reprinted from Bulletin Number Eleven
Sebring Historical Society, October 1972. Pages 361-378.)