Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 November 1883 — SRAVE KATESHELLEY. [ARTICLE]

SRAVE KATESHELLEY.

Hkr Perilous Jochney in a Howling Stobm, and the Reward She is t«» Have for It Boone u wa. B(>eoial Next week when the Committee of the lowa Legislature will formally present to Miss Kate Shell iy the medal voted her by that body in recognition of her bravery, this little town will indulge in a celebration, which it is expected will eclipse any public demonstration ever held in this region. There will be a procession, music, speeches and a banquet, and many distinguished people from abroad will be present. So worthily bestowed is the Legislature’s medal for heroism that no one here will fail to do everything in his power to make the demonstration a success. Kate Shelley is now a comely girl of eighteen, but she achieved her present fame by an act of the greatest bravery when she was but sixteen.

At about dark on the 6th of July, 1881, a storm of wind and rain of unparalleled severity broke over this region. In an hour’s time every creek was out of its banks, and tlie Des Moines River had risen six feet So sudden was the flood, and such was the velocity of the wind that houses, barns, lumber and all portable objects within reach of the waters were carried away. Looking from her window, which in daylight commanded a view of the Honey Creek Railroad bridge, Kate Shelley saw thro’ the darkness and storm a locomotive headlight. A second later it dropped, and though the wash which it must have made was not perceptible above the roar of the wind, she knew that the bridge had gone and that a train of cars had fallen into the abyss. There was no one at home but her mother and little brother and sister, and the girl understood that if help was to be given to the sufferers, and jthe express train, then nearly due, warned, she would have to undertake the task alone.

Hastily filling and lighting an old lantern and wrapping herself in a waterproof, she sallied out in the storm. She first made an effort to reach the water’s edge, but finding that the flood was already far above all the paths and roadways, and realizing that she could do nothing in or near that mad torreut, she climbed painfully up the steep bluff to the track, tearing her clothing to rags on the thick underSrowtli, and lacerating the esh most painfully. A part of the bridge still .emained, and, crawling out on 1 his to the last tie, she swung her lantern over the abyss and called out at the top of her voice. It was pitchy dark below, but she was answered faintly by the engineer, who had crawled up on| some of the broken timbers, and, though injured, was safe for the time being. — From him the girl learned that it was a freight train that had gone into the chasm, and that he alone of the train hands had escaped. He urged her, however t"» proceed at once to the nearest station to secure help for him, and to warn the approaching express train of the fall of the bridge. The girl then retraced her steps, gained the track, and made her way, with all the speed that the gale would permit, toward Moingona,asmall station about one mile from Honey Creek. In iv aking this perilous journey it was necessary for her to cross the high trestle bridge over the Des Moines River about 500 feet in length. Just as she tremblingly put her foot on this structure, the wind, rain, thunder and lightning were so appalling that she nearly lost her balance, and, in the endeavor t© save herself, her sole companion, the old lantern went out. She had no matches, but

if she had had thousands of them, they would have been of no service in such a place and in such a storm. Deprived of her light she could not see a foot ahead, save w hen the dazzling flashes of lightning revealed the grim outlines of the bridge and the seething waters beneath. Knowing that she had no time to lose, the brave girl threw away the lamp, and, dropping on her hands and knees, cr-awled from tie to tie across the high trestle. Having gained the ground again, she ran the short distance remaining to the station, told her story in breathless haste, and fell unconscious at the feet of the gaping rustics, who in their eagerness to know her adventures .forgot the terror and suspense which she had endured.

Men were then sent to the rescue of the engineer, and telegrams were flying up and down the line notifying officials and others of the loss of the bridge. * The express train came thundering in and was stopped, and the passengers, learning the story of thecliild hero, looked, a few at a time, upon her w an face and ragged clothes. The purse that was made up for her w r as of a very substantial kind. When the story of her behavior spread thro’out the State several funds for her benefit w r ere started, and. so far as money can pay for such devotion, she has been w T ell rewarded for her night’s work. At the session of the Legislature last winter it was ordered that a medal commemorative of the girl’s bravery be struck, and a Committee was appointed to present it to her. Her heroism was made the theme of many eloquent speeches.