b'Coastal Bend CommunityThe afternoon of Sunday, September 14, 1919, was the most horrific in the long history of Corpus Christi and the Coastal Bend. The last recorded wind speed down-town was 80 mph at 1:00 p.m., which certainly exceeded 100 mph over the long, ensu-ing hours during which the most powerful side of the storm slowly transgressed the western side of Corpus Christi Bay. While the strong winds did their part to rip apart roofs and break windows with flying debris, the storm surge, estimated to have been as high as 16 feet in the lowest-lying areasNorth Beach and lower downtowntore apart buildings and structures closest to the water, first, then creating a roaring tidal surge of wood, concrete, glass and steel that swept up everything in its path.A vacationing teacher from Terrell, Lucy Caldwell, who was staying at the Nueces Hotel, chronicled her experiences and what she saw that day and shortly after:I was assigned to the courthouse by the Red Cross to assist in serving food and distributing clothing, candles and matches. I saw there Mexicans, Negroes and whites huddled togetherhungry, almost naked, shivering, barefootedwomen with the hair down, some with toes cut off, hands cut off, teeth knocked out, limbs broken or cut.Above - Downtown Corpus Christi as described by the photographer, Marie Shirkey: On Chaparral X the Tatum house on the corner where the street cars turned to go to Nueces Bay Heights and Hillcrest. XX the Williams Hotel - the new brick hotel near Rankins; Left : Side view of remains of the Winona Hotel. Arrows show the way the street runs. You can see how far out it sat; Below/Left: The remains of the Army Hospital (this used to be the Beach Hotel). These parts of the second story porch that are gone are concrete. Isnt much of the pretty lawn in sight now.Below: The best-estimated path of the Great 1919 Hurricane (The 1919 Florida Keys Hurricane) took the storm over Puerto Rico, through the Florida Straits, and into the Gulf of Mexico, making landfall at Baffin Bay, 25 miles south of the city.Rescue parties came in every hour or two, bringing in corpses from the beach. Sometimes they would have two, sometimes as many as 20. And, oh, the condition they were inarms and legs off, heads almost severed, all the hair gone, swollen beyondconception,andblackfromtheoil.Bodiesweresomutilatedthat identification was impossible. At one time there were 83 unidentified bodies in the morgue.Many of the survivors on the downtown side of the bayou took refuge at the courthouse and in other, strong, brick buildings of more than three stories like the Nueces Hotel. Of those marooned on North Beach who survived the 14-foot tidal surge, most were able to ride atop roofs and other debris that eventually landed them as far as 18 miles west, on the farthest banks of Nueces Bay in San Patricio County. Hundreds of bodies, most covered in crude oil, were buried in more than 30 mass graves from Indian Point near Portland, around the high cliffs of Nueces Bay toward Odemthe largest of which measured 1,400 by 3,200 feet and held 51 victims.In the decades following the Coastal Bends deadliest natural disaster, storm surge barriers like the seawalls on the bayfront and on Padre Island have been con-structed, but the kind of flooding that occurs in low-lying areas throughout Corpus Christiincluding on most city streets and all of North Beach, for exampleshould serve as an ominous reminder that a century of history in no way renders us immune of catastrophic destruction if we fail to improve our protective infrastructure. 50 THE COASTAL BEND MAGAZINEFall 2019 TheCoastalBend.com'