Murphy Givens Corpus Christi History Caller-Times

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Corpus Christi History by Murphy Givens

Corpus Christi History is published Wednesdays. Murphy Givens also sits on the Caller-Times editorial board and can be contacted at givensm@caller.com

Wednesday, September 15, 1999

Anniversary of 1919 hurricane

When the great hurricane struck Corpus Christi on Sept. 14, 1919 - 80 years ago - Theodore Fuller was 10 years old. His family, which lived on North Beach, moved to Corpus Christi from Abilene in 1914.
Fuller survived the storm and went on to a military career. As a lieutenant colonel, he served on the staff of Gen. Omar Bradley during World War II. He wrote about growing up in Corpus Christi in a book titled "When the Century and I Were Young,'' which includes a chapter on the storm of 1919.

   Sunday morning was dark and rainy. Theodore's older brother turned in his bed and said, "Might as well go back to sleep, Ted, there'll be no fishing today.''
   His father went to town to get news of the storm and his mother was busy helping her sister, Theodore's "Aunt Doshie,'' pack for her trip home.
   The tide was rising and, Fuller wrote, "Once it came over Rincon Street, it would be within minutes of our grounds. Mama had Papa and Brother roll up our carpets take them upstairs . . . Esther (his older sister) rushed and changed into a bathing suit . . . My aunt and mother were dressed as formally as if headed for church. Their skirts were only a couple of inches off the floor.''
   Theodore, his brother, sister, aunt, mother and father waded into the street. The water was soon waist-deep. The group headed toward the railroad track, intending to follow it to town. They remembered that during the 1916 storm the water never covered the railway embankment. This time, however, the rails were soon submerged.
   "Papa, faced with all decision-making, said we should go to a strong house west of the railroad and wait out the storm. The water was falling with a deafening roar and was rushing like a huge swollen muddy mountain river beyond that. The wind had begun to rise.''
   Theodore's father and brother left to look for a place of refuge. A young soldier who had been a convalescent at the army hospital on North Beach joned them and they broke into a house to shelter from the storm.
   "Although the rain and spray were coming down in sheets, we could still see through the windows . . . Suddenly we could see that the house to the northeast of us had turned awry and was being pushed along toward us. It was the Lerick home . . . As it came alongside, the Lerick family came out of it, waded to our porch and thence on into the room. . . There were now 12 of us in one room.
   "The walls of the house tended to move back and forth as the water pressure was shifted by current and waves. From time to time, there was a collapse of some part of the house . . . It was then that a part of the wall parted and came back together. Aunt Doshie's hand became caught in the parting wall and was crushed by the closing.''
   With the wind and waves rising, they realized the house would soon collapse. The exits were blocked and they were standing on chests and tables to keep their heads above the water. The soldier dived through a window, made it to the roof and tore off enough shingles to make an escape hole.
   "We were all like trapped rats. Everyone rushed to the outlet. Aunt Doshie, Esther and I had at first been nearest the escape hole but two desperate men, one with a wife and another with a family, forced past us in their struggle to get their loved ones out of the slowly collapsing home.
   "When our turn came, it was too late for Esther, who was pushing me ahead. She yelled to me, 'Go ahead, Ted, I'm going out the window.'
   "Above the water, the top of a window frame was barely visible. As I jumped up, Esther went down and the walls merged. Our brave soldier somehow escaped from under the walls and we briefly saw him drifting away. He must have been injured for he paid no heed to anyone while clinging without motion to some debris.''
   Fuller wrote that each part of the roof had groups of clinging people.
   "Aunt Doshie was beside me when Esther bobbed up at the edge of our heaving raft and climbed on. Waves were now high and our roof was turned upside down. . . . Over my head I could feel the floating roof and pulled myself along to its edge. The instant I was up I found Esther there trying to help me. I called, 'Help Aunt Doshie.'
   "We were immediately overturned again. Coming up in the water, Esther grabbed a power pole. Aunt Doshie and I, only a few strokes away, quickly joined her. . . . Esther kept trying to help Aunt Doshie and me. Our roof separated again and our aunt was thrown into the swirling water. As Esther started toward her, a mass of driftwood washed between them. For only a second we watched in horror as Aunt Doshie strangled, threw both arms in the air, and screamed. Her voice was piercing even over the sound of the storm.
   "I do not know how high the waves reached. The greatest waves did not follow one another but once in a while a giant appeared. It was terrifying to see in a flash of lightning, an enormous wave poised above us.''
   Out of nowhere, Fuller wrote, a wave washed up a friend of his, Billy Lerick, who climbed onto their raft. But he was soon taken under by another huge wave.
   "Esther called to me as apologetically as a screaming voice could be. 'Ted, I just couldn't hold him any longer. I tried, Ted, I tried.'
   "My memory was that the water was warm while the cold spray and wind cut unmercifully. My shirt was ripped off.
   " 'Hold your head up, Ted. I might not be able to help you much longer.'
   "Once I knew her hand was under my chin. For a long time I seemed to hear her only vaguely. I was never completely aware of things the remainder of the night . . . Long after dreams and as out of a deep sleep, I awoke suddenly and saw Esther sitting quietly beside me. We were floating among the tops of some mesquite bushes. The water around us was calm . . ."
   They had washed up on the northeast side of the Nueces River, 18 miles from North Beach. They helped rescue other survivors and were taken Sinton.
   "On Friday morning, we were put into a car and taken to the station. A train had just pulled in and there stood Papa. It was a total surprise to us for communication with Corpus Christi had been completely out . . . His way of telling us about our family was to say, 'Brother is waiting for us in Corpus Christi. He will be eager to see you two.'
   "And Mama? Is she there too?''
   "He looked over me with his eyes on the horizon as he answered. Papa had a clear, deep, voice which was soothing. 'No, son, she is with Aunt Doshie and we won't see them for a long, long time. They are in heaven.''
   (This is the second of two columns on the 1919 storm. The account of Theodore Fuller's survival was taken form his manuscript for a book, "When The Century and I Were Young'' at the Corpus Christi Central Library. The Caller-Times published the first part on Sept. 8, 1999 with the full text of the letter from hurricane survivor Lucy Caldwell to her mother. This letter was first published in the Caller-Times on Sept. 20, 1970.)

   For the Theodore Fuller's account of the storm and its aftermath, click here.