Next, the firefighters fell back to Franklin Street. It was narrow, but it was their only hope. Once again, residents were evacuated and firefighting forces were gathered. Demolition teams detonated home after home. Then the wind changed and it appeared that the fire was stopped. Bystanders rejoiced—until they realized the flames were just being pushed in a new direction. The exhausted firefighters had to drum up the energy to make yet another stand.
What a drag: Each puff of smoke inhaled from a cigarette contains 4 billion particles of dust.
On the other side of the city, 20th Street was chosen as a firebreak. It was a fairly wide street with some open ground downhill from a large cistern that still had some water in it. Buildings on the north side of the street were quickly dynamited, and the engines pulled by horses were taken up the hill to the cistern. When the horses gave out, dozens of citizens pushed the engines up the hill themselves to get the water. Their efforts worked. The fire was stopped at 20th street.
After four days of battling the blazes, the firemen slowly began to get the upper hand. By Saturday, only remnants of the great fire were left smoldering in pockets around the city. Late that night a much-needed rain began to fall, and the smoke finally began to clear.
AFTERMATH
About 700 people died as the result of the quake and the fires, but countless more were saved by General Funston, Mayor Schmitz, and all of the brave men and women who stayed to fight the fires and help others. Property losses topped $500 million. Some 497 city blocks covering 2,831 acres lay in ruins. Twenty-eight thousand buildings were gone. Half of the city’s population, amounting to a quarter of a million people, were homeless. But San Franciscans were determined to save their city; rebuilding began almost immediately.
Secretary of War Taft rushed a bill through Congress requesting half a million dollars in relief funds for the city. It was passed the same day. He ordered 200,000 rations sent from the Vancouver, Washington, Army Base, and ordered every military post in the nation to send all tents without delay. Then he sent another bill through Congress increasing his request for financial aid to $1 million. It was approved. In addition, $10 million more poured in from 14 nations.
Fundraisers for San Francisco were held all over the nation. Songwriter George M. Cohen sold souvenir newspapers for $1,000 per copy, and boxing champion Jim Jeffries sold oranges for $20 each. Relief distribution centers provided aid—the Red Cross served over 313,000 meals on April 30 alone.
China has a longer border than any other country on Earth (13,700 miles).
GETTING BACK TO NORMAL
Ten days later, water service was restored. Soon after came the lights along the main streets and the trolley cars. And the rebuilding continued nonstop. Within three years, 20,000 of the 28,000 ruined buildings had been replaced, and this time most of the buildings were made of brick and steel—not wood.
In 1915 San Francisco hosted the World’s Fair, and by then there was barely any evidence left of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and fires.
A TRAGIC LEGACY
San Franciscans got a rude reminder of the big quake on October 17, 1989. An earthquake hit the area, and although it was much smaller, it was still big enough to cause extensive damage.
Way back in 1915 when they were still rebuilding, many new structures were built in the Marina District. Engineers used rubble, mud, and sand to fill in the shallow bay. But the new land wasn’t properly compacted before the buildings went up. After the Exposition ended, homes and other buildings were constructed on top of this unstable base. Without solid ground to stand on, the Marina District was severly damaged in the 1989 quake.
Schmitz and Funston weren’t the only heroes. Turn to page 349 for some of the other stories.
FUZZY MATH
Here’s a U.S. Postal Service ad from 1996, defending its policy to raise the price of stamps:
“In 1940, a one-pound loaf of bread cost 8 cents, and in 1995 cost 79 cents; a half-gallon of milk went from 25 cents to $1.43 in the same period; and a first-class postage stamp went from 3 cents to 32 cents. Which, bottom line, means that first-class postage stamps remained well below the rate of inflation.”
Do the math: Actually, those figures prove that the price of stamps rose 9% faster than the price of bread and 105% faster than the price of milk.
Raised-bump reflectors on U.S. roads are called “Botts dots.” (Elbert Botts invented them.)
BENCHED!
Remember the saying “Judge not, lest ye be judged?” These men in black would have done well to follow that advice.
THE HONORABLE A. HITLER PRESIDING
Douglas County judge Richard Jones was suspended by the Nebraska Supreme Court after an investigation into 17 complaints concerning his conduct, both on and off the bench. Among the findings: Judge Jones had taken to signing court documents with names like A. Hitler and Snow White (he says he did it to keep court personnel on their toes), and setting bail amounts in the form of “a gazillion pengoes” and other imaginary currencies (he says it’s “a matter of opinion” whether the fines are nonsensical or not). He was also accused of urinating on courthouse carpets, making an anonymous death threat against another judge (he says it was a “prank that went wrong”), and throwing firecrackers into the same judge’s office. Judge Jones contested a number of the charges but admitted he threw the firecrackers. “I was venting,” he explained.
GARDEN-VARIETY CRIMINALS
In August 1998, a Missouri judicial commission found Associate Circuit judge John A. Clark guilty of misconduct. The charge “most likely to be remembered,” according to the National Law Journal: sentencing defendants to community service… and then allowing them to “do their time” by working in his yard.
WHERE’S YOUR LAWYER?
Dogged by a California state investigation into claims that he was abusive to defendants who appeared in his court without an attorney, San Bernardino County judge Fred Heene announced in 1999 that he would not seek reelection. The commission later concluded he had indeed been abusive.
An example of Judge Heene’s conduct: A woman convicted of a traffic violation asked for more time to complete her community service because she’d been bedridden—on doctor’s orders—during the final weeks of her pregnancy. The judge denied her request and then sentenced her to 44 days in jail. When she protested that she had a seven-day-old baby at home, the judge replied, “Ma’am, you should have thought about that a long time ago.”
In Atlanta, it’s illegal to tie a giraffe to a streetlight or telephone pole. (Dogs are OK.)
TAKING A BITE OUT OF CRIME
In 1997 Judge Joseph Troisi spent five days in jail after he bit defendant William Witten on the nose hard enough to make it bleed. The incident came about when Troisi—until then a “highly regarded member” of the West Virginia bench and former member of the state committee that investigates judicial misconduct—denied Witten’s bail request, prompting Witten to mutter an insult under his breath. Troisi then “stepped down from the bench, removed his robe, and there was a confrontation,” said state police captain Terry Snodgrass. Judge Troisi pled no contest to criminal battery, served his five days, and then resigned from the bench. He also agreed to seek counseling for “impulse control.”
TO TELL THE TRUTH
In 1995 the Texas state bar reprimanded newly elected criminal appeals court judge Steven Mansfield for lying about his personal background during his campaign for office. Mansfield claimed he was born in Texas—a big plus for voters in the Lone Star State—when he was actually born in Massachusetts. He also presented himself as a political newcomer when in fact he’d run for Congress twice in New Hampshire (he lost both times). He claimed to have handled more than 100 criminal cases, but about the only case he’d really handled was his own—when he was charged in Florida for practicing law without a license. (He lost, and had to pay a $100 fine.)
Amazingly, Mansfield managed to hang onto his job in Texas’s highest criminal court and kept a low profil
e until 1999, when he was caught trying to scalp complimentary tickets to a Texas A&M football game and received six months’ probation. He left office in 2000 but announced the following year that he wanted to come back because the judiciary was becoming too liberal without him. “I feel that I can be a more effective and more consistent conservative vote on the court,” he explained. (He lost.)
Some species of Australian earthworms can grow to more than 10 feet in length.
MY END IS NEAR
Uncle John predicts that his death will come…on the last day of his life. As creepy as it sounds, some people have actually been able to predict their deaths much more accurately than that. Take these folks…
ARNOLD SCHOENBERG
Claim to Fame: Austrian composer… and a man obsessed with the number 13
Prediction: Schoenberg was born on September 13, 1874 and believed he would probably die on the 13th as well. Which month and year? Probably, he decided, on a Friday the 13th, and most likely in 1951, when he was 76 (7 + 6= 13).
What Happened: That year, July 13 fell on a Friday, and Schoenberg stayed in bed all day, awaiting death. Late that night, his wife went to his room to check on him and scold him for wasting the day so foolishly. When she opened the door, Schoenberg looked up at her, uttered the single word “harmony,” and dropped dead. Time of death: 11:47 p.m. …13 minutes before midnight.
FRANK BARANOWSKI
Claim to Fame: Host of “Mysteries Around Us,” a radio show that dealt with issues of the paranormal
Prediction: Early in January 2002, Baranowski announced to his listeners that he expected to die on January 19.
What Happened: As advertised, Baranowski became an eerily suitable topic for his own show by dying on January 19—exactly as he said he would. Cause of death: congestive heart failure. “It’s like he just produced his last show,” a co-worker told reporters.
DAVID FABRICIUS
Claim to Fame: German astronomer and Protestant minister
Prediction: For some reason, Fabricius became fixated on the idea that he would die on May 7, 1617. Rather than tempt fate, when the day came, Fabricius decided to play it safe and stay home.
What Happened: About two hours before midnight, he decided that the danger had passed. He stepped outside to get some air…and was promptly murdered by a man from his own church.
Tablecloths originally served as big napkins: people wiped their hands and faces on them.
THE REVEREND FREDDIE ISAACS
Claim to Fame: Founder of the Reformed Apostolic Church in Cradock, South Africa
Prediction: In January 2002, Reverend Freddie told his followers that he would soon be “going home.” He had received a message from the Lord to join Him in Heaven, he said, and God had set the date for Saturday, February 2. He had his grave dug in advance and even booked the town hall for the funeral, busing in hundreds of “mourners” from all over South Africa. He also went on a shopping spree of Biblical proportions, sure that the Creator would take care of the bills after he was gone. “We will miss his earthly body,” one church member told reporters, “but we know that he will be sitting at the right hand of the Father.”
What Happened: February 2 came and went…and Freddie didn’t die. A spokesperson explained to his enraged and humiliated followers that there had been a misunderstanding, saying, “His actual announcement was, ‘I am going home.’ That is why it is important for us to sit down and clarify certain words and terms, such as the difference between death and going home.”
FELIPE GARZA, JR.
Claim to Fame: A 15-year-old high school student living in Patterson, California, in 1985
Prediction: Felipe had a crush on a classmate named Donna Ashlock, who had a degenerative heart disease and was only weeks away from death when Felipe’s mother saw a newspaper article about her condition and read it to Felipe. “I remember his voice in the next room,” Mrs. Garza remembered. “He said, ‘I’m going to die, and I’m going to give my heart to Donna.’”
What Happened: Although Felipe seemed to be in perfect health, he died a few days later when a blood vessel in his brain suddenly burst. His family donated his heart to Donna the following day.
Final Chapter: Unfortunately, the ending was not a happy one. Donna’s body rejected Felipe’s heart a few years later, and she died in March 1989 before another suitable donor could be found. She and Felipe are buried in the same cemetery.
Q: Why six-packs? A: Breweries thought six beers were “the maximum a woman could safely carry.”
TOM SWIFTIES
This classic style of pun was originally invented in the 1920s. Here’s a modern collection that was sent to us by BRI member Bryan Henry. They’re atrocious, but we couldn’t resist including them.
“Welcome to Grant’s Tomb,” Tom said cryptically.
“Smoking is not permitted in here,” Tom fumed.
“Your boat is leaking,” Tom said balefully.
“I prefer to press my own clothes,” Tom said ironically.
“It’s the maid’s night off,” Tom said helplessly.
“You’re burning the candle at both ends,” Tom said wickedly.
“I hope I can still play the guitar,” Tom fretted.
“They pulled the wool over my eyes,” Tom said sheepishly.
“Someone removed the twos from this deck,” Tom deduced.
“Like my new refrigerator?” asked Tom coolly.
“I’ll have to send that telegram again,” Tom said remorsefully.
“The criminals were escorted downstairs,” said Tom condescendingly.
“I haven’t caught a fish all day!” Tom said, without debate.
“A thousand thanks, Monsieur,” said Tom mercifully.
“I’d love some Chinese soup,” said Tom wantonly.
“I forgot what to buy,” Tom said listlessly.
“I need a pencil sharpener,” said Tom bluntly.
“I punched him in the stomach three times,” said Tom triumphantly.
“…and you lose a few,” concluded Tom winsomely.
“I was removed from office,” said Tom disappointedly.
“I wonder what it was like being one of Zeus’s daughters,” Tom mused.
“He only likes whole grain bread,” Tom said wryly.
“I’m definitely going camping again,” said Tom with intent.
“Oh no! I dropped my toothpaste,” said Tom, crestfallen.
LORD STANLEY’S CUP
The Stanley Cup, awarded annually to the best team in the National Hockey League, is the oldest trophy in professional sports. And whether you like hockey or not, we bet you’ll find the cup’s history fascinating.
THE FATHER AND SONS OF HOCKEY
Lord Arthur Frederick Stanley of Preston, England, son of the 14th Earl of Derby, was appointed Governor-General of the Dominion of Canada in 1888. When he arrived in the country he brought his seven ice-skating sons with him. They fell in love with the rough-and-tumble game of hockey and went on to become some of the best players of their time.
Nineteen-year-old Arthur Stanley and his brother Algy nagged their father for support in organizing the game into teams and leagues, and for a trophy to show as “an outward and visible sign of the ice hockey championship.” Dad finally came through. At a dinner for the Ottawa Amateur Athletic Association on March 18, 1892, a member of the Governor-General’s staff, Lord Kilcoursie (also a hockey player), made this announcement on behalf of Lord Stanley:
I have for some time been thinking that it would be a good thing if there were a challenge cup which should be held from year to year by the champion hockey team in the Dominion. There does not appear to be any such outward sign of a championship at present, and considering the general interest which matches now elicit, and the importance of having the game played fairly and under rules generally recognized, I am willing to give a cup which shall be held from year to year by the winning team.
THE TROPHY
Lord Stanley instructed an ai
de in England to order a gold-lined silver bowl to be used as the trophy. The bowl measured 7½ inches high and 11½ inches in diameter, and cost about $50. Original name: Dominion Hockey Challenge Cup. But everyone called it the Lord Stanley Cup.
Stanley appointed two trustees and outlined some conditions:
• The winners are to return the Cup promptly when required by the trustees in order that it may be handed over to any other team which may win it.
• Each winning team is to have the club name and year engraved on a silver ring fitted on the Cup.
• The Cup is to remain a challenge competition and not the property of any one team, even if won more than once.
• The trustees are to maintain absolute authority in all disputes over the winner of the Cup.
• A substitute trustee will be named in the event that one of the existing trustees drops out.
63% of U.S. presidents have been members of a fraternity of some kind.
GOING HOME
The boys got their trophy, and the game of hockey grew in popularity. But, ironically, they never got to play for it, and Lord Stanley, the father of organized hockey, never saw a Stanley Cup game. In July 1893, Stanley’s brother died and Stanley was called back to England to become the 16th Earl of Derby. He never returned to watch a game for the trophy that bore his name.
Uncle John's Ahh-Inspiring Bathroom Reader Page 29