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Our Catleolic Heritage in T eza.r
a success in its mission of charity. Before long a larger and more modem and well-equipped building had to be put up by the Sisters to extend their work of mercy. The brave and devoted Sisters received their severest trial on September 21, 1919. Early that morning, about 2 :oo o'clock, a terrific tropical storm blew from the Gulf into the expectant city. Howling wind and dashing rain broke the heavy stillness of the night, steadily increasing in fury. The aged and kindly Monsignor C. Jaillet, the chaplain, was in the building with the fourteen Sisters. There were also twelve patients, a few of their relatives, and several employees. Before morning dawned, ten others had come in for shelter. The angry waters of the Gulf by now were dashing madly less than one hundred feet away. The roar was deafening. By noon the waters from Nueces Bay cut off escape to the bluff and all means of access to the higher portion of the city. Soon afterwards the bath-house of the Sanatorium was swept away with a crash by the waves, and all the uprooted smaller frame houses nearby were now floating about like cork. Tragedy and death refused to be denied. As Father Jaillet and a few prayed fervently in the chapel, the main building began to rock, windows were blown out, some of the Sisters remained by their patients, others were moved to the south wing. Late in the afternoon a loud crash was heard. The north wing collapsed, the roof caved in, the angry waters surged in and swept away Mr. Plum, a paralytic patient, Mr. Hernandez, a victim of an explosion, Miss Therese Reese, a nurse assistant, and Sister M. Thais, whose body was recovered afterwards in Portland, ten miles away. The wind and the waters rose higher. By eight that night, the south wing and the chapel were swept away. Four rooms alone remained standing, where all the surviving patients and the Sisters were now crowded. The wind shifted and blew the weakened smoke stack of the boiler room on to the room of the hospital, crashing through two of the remaining rooms. A patient was killed and Sister Aloysius seriously injured. Only a battered hall and two rooms were left. Here patients, Sisters, and other survivors gathered and prayed and waited through the night until Monday morning when rescue came. With great difficulty, taking a few persons in an open boat at a time, each load accompanied by a Sister, the wet, dejected, hungry band of survivors was taken to the courthouse for safety. Reverend Mother Mary John and Mother Wendelinus were the last to leave the completely wrecked hospital. In the
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