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THE GREAT CYCLONE OF 1896
©Gary Bowman

The barometer was dropping, As distant lightning flashed
Black clouds, green sky, Storm’s a-coming fast
Midnight at five o’clock, Clouds began to swirl
Winds hit sixty, seventy, eighty miles per hour

It’s the Great Cyclone of Eighteen Ninety-Six
The Cyclone hit St. Louis, Blowing like a hurricane
The storm was breathing thunder, And sweating sheets of rain
No telegraph, no telephone, Streetcars lost their power

Trees snapped, and strong men, Shivered at the horror
It’s the Great Cyclone of Eighteen Ninety-Six
Ten miles long, A mile wide, It carved a deadly path
Then it hit Lafayette, See the Storm King’s wrath

The Park became a wasteland, Of stumps and twisted trees
Homes of timber, stone and brick, Now piles of debris
It’s the Great Cyclone of Eighteen Ninety-Six
From the courthouse to the jail, Freight yards and factories

Churches, schools, hospitals, Saloons and breweries
All who saw it coming, Were filled with fear and dread
Throughout that ravaged city, Bells were tolling for the dead
It’s the Great Cyclone of Eighteen Ninety-Six

​The Cyclone hit the levee, The bridge began to sway
Thunder crashing, Waves lashing, Homes were swept away
Steamers, ferries, tugboats, Crushed by the mighty beast
Then it jumped the Mississippi, And headed to the east
It’s the Great Cyclone of Eighteen Ninety-Six