DISASTROUS FIRE

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXIII, 6 August 1929, Page 9

DISASTROUS FIRE

DESOLATION HITS CALIFORNIA

MILLICXf DOLLAR DAMAGK

PERILOUS TRAIN TRIP

HAD TO KKKP COING

SAN FRANCISCO, Kith July. One of the worst disasters that had struck California visited the fashionable San Francisco suburban residential ; .eri ion of Mill Valley, across Dm bay in Marin County, when an uniicci iable lire raged on (he slopes of Mount Tainalpais, an extinct volcano, destroyed 130 beautiful resiliences, and caused a properly damage of over a million dollars before the •10(H) lirelighters subdued the holocaust which made families homeless and struck terror into the hearts of hundreds of residents adjoining the course of the llames.

Despite the evident safety of populated areas which escaped the first |j,, m , onrush of destruction, hundreds „f , m .n fought the tight for four days Let'ore the conflagration was effectually stamped out, lighting against still winds which arose at short intervals anil frequently forced the lire to other directions. Firemen came from , all Marin cities, and from San l'ranosco, while there were volunteers rangers oi the U.S. Forest Service, Hoy Scouts, members of the American Legion oi former World War soldiers, all of whom collaborated in battling against the worst (ire. menace Mai'ili bad ever known. . Before their victory came the tire had swept over the vast region of the Middle. Uidge—bounded on the east by Cascade Canyon, and on Hie west by Slide Gulch, extending from the crest of Tainalpais to within three blocks of Lytton Square and the railway station in Mill Valley. The area is 400 acres of lire-denuded desolation, accentuated by .an occasional lonely brick cemetery or charred treeskeleton—a three-mile wound gaping across the "Switzerland of America" from Tainalpais summit to the verdant village below. Some .300 persons (led that area on the first night of the fire—snatched a handful of household effects, and retreated before a flood of flame that carried homes, gardens, shrubbery i.nd I'm est before it. Homes by (he score melted under (he fire—many of them show-places of the famed scenic spot. FLAME-SCARRED TRAIN

Through a rocky inferno roaring with flames and choked with billowing clouds of thick smoke, Jake Johnston piloted the last train to travel over the Mill Valley and Muir Woods Railway late on the afternoon of the conflagration. lie hurled a reeling, rocking flamescarred train through a canyon boiling with flame-shot smoke, and, black and blinded and burned himself, brought 65 terror-stricken passengers through that inferno to safety. "Just had to keep going,"' ho said/ "Once we got into that canyon there wasn't anything else to do. If the old train had stopped then there wouldn't be any of us have got rut to tell what happened. Couldn't back up. Couldn't stop. Just had lo keep goieg. And the eld gal came through—as she always did."

Added to the peril of the smoke and flames was the hazard caused by fleeing animals which crowded the narrow .righll-ol'-way. Thriven by smoke and fire, all kinds of animals —wild and domestic—jammed the right-of-way, blinded with terror and smoke, mad with fear and burns, wildly fleeing the most awful fear of animal life—fire. PASSENGERS HELPLESS ''And I never saw so many snakes in my life." asserted Johnston. "1 knew there was something the matter from the way the train was slipping and sliding on the rails. But it wasn't until the smoke lifted for a minute and I caught a glimpse of the rails, that I saw' what the matter wis. Che rails and roadbed were swarming with snakes. Alter thai I bad to use the sand all the time. And fortunately 1 had enough sand to last."

In the cars behind 05 men, women and children huddled together, helpless to do anything but hang on, cover their eyes and noses to protect their lungs from the seething smoke wall, and hope for the best.

When Jake Johnston ground his train to a stop at the little station.in Mill Valley, he was half-carried, black, blinded, burned, but triumphant, to the Red Cross first aid station for treatment.

••Cot her through all right;" he mumbled. "The old gal came through. Hut I don't want another trip like thai -ever!" The worst sufferer by the fire was John Forbes, vice-president of the Crocker First National Bank, whose home was worth 100,000 dollars. It was entirely destroyed, as were the homes of Count Ivan Postnikoff, of Washington (25.000 dollars), three houses of C. I). Bunker, valued at 30,000 dollars, four houses of Margerite Mausey, valued at 50,000 dollars, and do/ens of similar value. Rebuilding has already started.