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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 |
