MAK Project: Keokuk Building's Collapse

Mary Alma Powers Kay Project
Page Three

Continued from February’s Newsletter . . . . .
 

It was just another summer evening in Keokuk, IA on June 14, 1893 when suddenly the calm turned into chaos and a three-story building at 824, 826, and 828 Main Street collapsed, taking four men down into the ruins.  This is the third installment in a series of four describing the injuries and statements of the people involved. 

TERRIFIC CRASH WITHOUT WARNING

WALLS FALL AND FLOORS  FOLLOW

 Three Main Street Business Blocks Tumble to the Ground

Falling Timber and Bricks Bury Four Men

John Real and Harry Young Badly Injured

Many Miraculous Escapes and Moving Scenes

The Injuries

Young was the worst injured of the victims.  He was attended at the livery stable and was afterward taken home.  He had his chest crushed, especially over the region of the heart, several ribs being fractured, and was suffering from hemorrhage in the lungs, causing him to expectorate bright, red blood.  He suffered greatly from shock and when first taken out had no perceptible pulse.  He stuck to his refusal to take no stimulants and whisky was given him hypodermatically.  In the early evening the surgeons gave out no practical hope of his recovery, but about midnight he improved and today he seemed to have a chance to live.

The manner in which Real was caught indicated that his legs would be badly fractured and the surgeons were surprised to find no bones were broken.  He was badly bruised from the hips down, especially below the knee and his shoulder, were pretty badly hurt (sic).  There was a cut over an inch long in his right eyebrow down to the bone, which required some stitches.  He rested easily all night, but as usual in such cases, his bruises are more painful today.  Unless something unforeseen occurs he is sure to recover.

Shepherd's Statement

J. W. Shepherd, one of the proprietors of the saloon at No. 826, said to a Constitution-Democrat reporter that a few minutes before the collapse Mr. Burrows called him out of the saloon and told him he wanted to show him something.  "He took me into his grocery store," said Mr. Shepherd, "and leading me to the cellar under his store and then to the foundation between the two storerooms, showed me where the wall was cracking, and asked me what I thought about it.  I told him that it was dangerous and the building might fall any minute, that he had better get his folks and goods out and I would go and tell the men in my place to get out.  I lost no time in doing so and had just told the men to leave when the crack in the wall occurred followed almost immediately by the crash.  I was just coming from behind the bar and the tall ice box at that place held the ceiling off of me until I was able to get out."

Junkins' Escape

Charles Junkins said to a reporter for the Constitution - Democrat:  "I was in the saloon when the building went and my arm fell over Real's body, my feet hanging in the cellar.  I was caught in the back.   I pulled my arm out, hurting my wrist in doing so, but got loose and started to make my way out.  Real and Young spoke to me and I told them to be quiet, we would get them out.  Blinded and choked by the dust I made my way out between the icebox and the wall.  If the falling timbers had not made a brace above us we would all been killed."   Mr. Junkins is a cattle buyer and lives at No. 318 North Tenth Street.

Gilles' Experience

Robert Gilles who was in Real and Shepherd's place just before the crash told a reporter for this paper his experience.  "I was sitting in the saloon," said Mr. Gilles, "and heard a kind of a crack over in the corner.  I went over to see what it was and saw a part of the wall paper drawing by the other part.  Just then Shepherd came in and told us to get out for the building was going and he and his partner started and I went after them."  Mr. Gilles is employed on the government dry docks and has been in the city about three years.  He boards near where he works.
 

The Conclusion in April’s Newsletter . .  ~ Researched and submitted by Brenda Anderson