“It’s amazing that no one has burned to death in their homes or businesses. I suppose it’s natural that the businesses should be fairly deserted on Sunday. And I suppose, too, that given it was a Sunday afternoon, many were either out enjoying the day or atleast awake and able to hear the bells of warning.” Evie glanced at the numerous groups of people sitting on the grassy bank. “Where are all these people going to sleep tonight?” she asked.
Mother handed her a glass of iced tea. “We were just speaking to the mayor about that, along with Chief Runge. We’ve put out a call for tents of every size. We even wired up to Duluth and St. Paul for any they could spare. I’ve pledged money for their purchase. But for the night, they will open a couple of the large meeting halls and house people there.”
Evie was glad to hear that at least everyone would have somewhere to go. “How many people are we talking?”
“Possibly more than one thousand men, women, and children,” Mrs. Van Cleve replied. “The fire chief said that at the rate the fire is burning, it could be even more.”
Evie had trouble even imagining a thousand people. She glanced out over the hundreds already gathered. The sea of stunned and frightened faces was almost more than she could bear. Her heart was breaking for those who’d lost so much. How could she best help them now?
“I should get back to Father.” She took a long drink of tea, then handed the glass to her mother. “The wind has shifted some. At least that makes the air a little more breathable. If it gets really bad for you here, I recommend damp handkerchiefs tied around the face, especially for the elderly and littlest children. The smoke could easily cause them the most problems.”
Mother nodded. “We’ll see to it, Evie.” She gave her a hug and then kissed her cheek. “Please tell your father not to take any chances. If the fire shifts, get out of there in a hurry. Don’t try to be heroes.”
Evie smiled. “I’ll tell him, but you know him better than anyone.”
“Can I be of help?” a voice asked.
“Claudette! Of course you can help,” Mother said, embracing her sister-in-law. “Is Daniel here too?” She glanced around for Claudette’s husband.
Evie leaned in and kissed her aunt. “It’s good to see you, Auntie. I must get back to work, but hopefully, I’ll see you later.”
She made her way back to where her father stood talking to several of his colleagues. As she approached from one side, Chief Runge moved in from the other.
“Gentlemen, we have hope. The fire is slowed by the brick frame of the Minnesota Brewing Company. There’s also been a shift in the winds, and if it continues, it might well blow the fire back on itself.”
“We’ll pray it might be so,” Dr. Bolton replied. Evie had met the man earlier, along with Nurse Treadwell. The two worked with Dr. Overton at a clinic on the far west side of town.
“I wonder if I might get a couple of you doctors to follow me back to where we have several injured firemen. They didn’t wish to leave their posts, yet they need some attention.”
“Dr. Bolton and I can go, if it’s all right with him,” Dr. Overton said, pointing to the older man. “We can take Nurse Treadwell with us.”
Evie glanced at the older nurse. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman who reminded Evie of her supervisor at school.
“Of course. Let’s go,” Dr. Bolton replied. He gave a nod to Nurse Treadwell, who quickly gathered their bags.
They left Evie and her father and headed off with Chief Runge just as Jacob and Andrew drove up in the wagon.
“We’ve got a patient,” Andrew declared, setting the brake. He looked at Evie and then their father. “It’s Max Garrison. He’s unconscious. The men who rescued him said they were on Boom Island at the sawmills, and some burning beams fell on him. They pulled him out right away and got him to a boat.”
Evie felt as if a band had tightened around her chest. She hurried with Father to the end of the wagon and peered inside. Max lay completely still. There was blood on his head and burned fabric around his left shoulder and neck.
“Bring him to the other wagon. We have everything there sterilized as best we can,” Father instructed.
Evie rushed ahead of them and picked up the scissors to help cut away Max’s coat and shirt. As soon as they placed him on the wagon bed, she went to work. Max moaned and moved ever so slightly as she took hold of the burned lapel. She quickly cut away the cloth, and the shirt soon followed, all while Father examined Max’s head wound.
“Bring me more light,” he ordered, looking to the boys.
Jacob went to where several lighted lanterns were waiting. He quickly brought one back and placed the handle over a hooked pole that had been erected on the side of the wagon.
Evie swallowed the bile in her throat. This was Max, and he needed her at her best. She whispered a prayer for all three of them, asking God to help her and her father to best treat Max’s wounds and that God would also heal Max and help him regain consciousness.
With the clothes cut away and the extra light, Evie was relieved to see that although Max was burned, it was minimal and not overly widespread. Apparently, the men who had helped him were able to put out the fire before it did too much damage. Still, the burns he had suffered were bad enough to require treatment and cause concern of infection.
She reached for the pot of cool clean water and pulled out one of the soaking pieces of cloth. Without bothering to wring it out, she let the water drench the wounded area. With great care, Evie repeated the process and cleaned the area around Max’s neck and shoulder.
“His burns are second and third degree. They are containedto the shoulder and neck area with some charring on the worst injuries,” Evie told her father. “There is also impact bruising and minor lacerations along the collarbone.”
“Yes, it would seem the beam impacted the side of his head before hitting his shoulder,” Father replied. “He’ll need some stitches, but the gash isn’t the worst I’ve seen. Go ahead and clean the wound. I’ll get the sutures ready.”
