(As told by Helen Schlosser Burg to Lt. Wayne Norwood)

September 29, 1915, the day I will never forget. When we went to bed that night, it was cloudy. Later that night, it started raining, and the wind was starting to blow, but we didn’t think much about it. Before daylight, the wind and rain was coming down very hard. My daddy got up and lit the oil lamps. The wind was blowing so hard it just whistled through the large cypress house and would make the oil lamps flicker. You could see the waves in the lake hitting against the water breakers.

This continued until about 9 a.m., and now the water was all around the house and all the way up to the railroad tracks. The water had now risen about 10 feet, and the waves were hitting against our house. Daddy told mother to get the kids ready. We are going to have to leave the house. I think it is going to wash away,” he said. We had Daddy, Mother and five kids in the house, and all of us kids were crying and scared to death. Daddy and Mother kept saying everything would be all right. “It is just bad weather,” said Daddy.

All we had was one small cypress wooden boat, and Daddy knew that he couldn’t take everyone in one trip. Mother said, “You take some of the kids, and I will stay here with the others, and you come back and get us.”

As we went outside to get into the boat, we had to hold on to things to keep from being blown away. The wind was now blowing over 100 mph. Daddy put us kids in the boat and then just stopped for a second or two and looked back at Mother. I know now that when he looked at her it meant, “I love you, and I hope to be with you again.” The wind was blowing toward the railroad, and it just blew us there in a minute.

I thought it was going to blow us across the track, but Daddy jumped out and held the boat. Daddy said, “Wait here. I have to go back and get Mother and the kids.” It was raining so hard now that it was hurting us. We huddled together and put a table cloth over us so the rain wouldn’t hurt as much, but the table cloth blew away. Daddy was now going into the wind, and he couldn’t get anywhere. The wind just kept blowing him back. We could see the large waves hitting the house, and it was starting to move. We knew if Daddy didn’t make it soon that Mother and my sisters and brother would be killed. Daddy tried and tried and finally got to the house. After everyone was in the boat, the wind just blew them back to the tracks. We all huddled together and walked and crawled down the track to the school house.

We went into the small school, and it was dark and cold. The wind would whistle through the cracks. Daddy and Mother kneeled down on the floor and started praying. The school was behind the railroad track, and Daddy thought this would stop the water. The water had risen 20 feet now, and it was coming over the track, and the waves were hitting against the school.

My uncle and his family had

now joined us, and we were so scared. As the waves hit the school, the building started to move. Daddy said, “We have got to leave the school.” It was getting ready to blow away. Again, Daddy loaded us into the small cypress boat and he swam alongside as we headed into the swamp.

Look for Part III on Wednesday, Sept. 22.

Wayne Norwood is a lieutenant with the St. John thhe Baptist Sheriff’s Department and owner and operator of the Louisiana Treasures Museum.