People's Pilot, Volume 2, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 April 1893 — THE WAVES’ PREY. [ARTICLE]

THE WAVES’ PREY.

Lake Michigan Swept by the Worst Storm Known for Years—The Crib of the Milwaukee Waterworks Swept Away and Fourteen Out of Fifteen Workmen Perish—The Survivor's Story: MILWAUKEE, April 21.—Penned in a partially submerged trap 3,000 feet out in the lake off North Point fifteen men struggled all Thursday morning against death by suffocation or by drowning. Some died like the victims of the Black Hole of Calcutta, while others were drowned. Only one man reached the shore alive and he may not survive. A list of the dead is as follows: John McBride, engineer, Chicago; Michael Dyer, fireman, Milwaukee; William Pruesner, foreman, Chicago; George Gregg, lock-tender, Milwaukee; James Murphy, miner, Milwaukee; Joseph Pezol, miner, Milwaukee; Gustav Lonkovitch, miner, Milwaukee; Peter Svener, miner, Milwaukee; William Marlon, miner, Chicago; Charles Johnson, miner, Chicago; John Healy, miner, Milwaukee; Frank Brown, miner, Milwaukee; John Donovan, miner, Chicago; Edward Cambrian (colored), steward, Chicago, The scene of the terrible tragedy was the new crib, which is intended to connect with the new intake. It is a solid mass of concrete, 80 feet in diameter, and rests on the bottom in 26 feet of water. Surmounting this, above the water line, was a temporary structure of wood, in which was the machinery for tunneling, supplying the “well” with fresh air and pumping the water out. In this building the workmen slept and ate their meals. The air chamber or “well” is in the concrete crib below the water surface and is only 10 feet in diameter and 8 feet deep. It is a chamber between the crib and the shaft leading to the tunnel. There are air-tight traps at the top and bottom of the chamber. Compressed air is used in the workings in the shaft and tunnel. With the air chamber securely locked, it is said that the only air the men could get would be through a 1½ inch pipe which ran from the chamber up into the house which contained the machinery. In this chamber fifteen men were imprisoned early Thursday morning. A large crowd had gathered on the beach, many being provided with field glasses. Shortly before 10 o’clock three men were seen to come up and crawl on the surface of the partially submerged crib. The news was telephoned downtown, and the tug Welcome started out with the lifeboat and lifesaving crew aboard. The Welcome arrived off the crib at 10:45 o’clock and stopped 200 feet to windward. The lifeboat was lowered with a line attached and allowed to drift toward the crib. Inger Olesen, one of the crew, was in the bow. Just before the boat touched the crib Olesen sprung forward and landed on the crib. A life line was strapped to his waist, but even as it was he was nearly washed off. The lifeboat was quickly pulled back to the tug. Olesen found only one man on the crib. It was James Miller, a miner, and he was clinging to a piece of cable and was partially wedged in so that he could not be washed overboard. He was nearly exhausted, but gasped to Olesen: “For God’s sake save me; the rest are down there.”

Olesen looked down into the well and it was nearly full of water. He saw the dead bodies of several men in the water. Olesen became satisfied that all the other men were dead and turned his attention to the lone survivor. The lifeboat was unmanageable owing to the high sea, and the surviving miner was so exhausted as to be perfectly helpless. Olesen did not hesitate an instant. He lashed the man to himself, signaled with the life line and threw himself with his burden into the roaring sea. The men on the tugboat pulled with a will and in a few minutes two apparently lifeless bodies were hauled upon the deck. The Welcome then steamed back to the river mouth, which was reached shortly before 1 o’clock. Both Olesen and Miller were unconscious when brought to land, but Olesen quickly recovered under treatment by two physicians. Miller was taken to the emergency hospital and the attending physicians are doubtful concerning his recovery. James Miller, the sole survivor, made a statement, which was given out to the press. There were fifteen men at work in the crib. About 8 o’clock Wednesday evening the storm grew so fierce that they be came alarmed, but they remained in the house until 10 o’clock, when the house rocked so and the water washed in to such an extent that they decided to take refuge in the “well” or air chamber in the sunken crib below the water. They spent a terrible night crammed in there, but the air pump worked well and they suffered only from the cold. Shortly after 5 o’clock the building above washed away and the air pump stopped working. The water from the leak below began to advance on them and the air grew bad. One of the men dropped into the water below, overcome by the poisonous air, but the majority stuck it out until about 8:30 o'clock. A consultation was then held. It was decided that to stay in the place meant either death by drowning or suffocation and that the only thing to do was to lift the cap in the top of the well and attempt to crawl out. This was accordingly done and the water poured in from above and wa shed up from below. Miller and five companions climbed through about twelve feet of mud and water and reached the top alive. They were all weak from inhaling the poisonous air and one by one they were washed overboard by the waves. Miller wedged himself in against a wire cable and was thus saved.