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The following letter has been received at the CRIMSON Office from an old editor, now resident in New York. We publish it as it gives some interesting facts about the recent storm in New York.
NEW YORK, March 13, 1888.
EDITORS CRIMSON:
I write the following for publication, in hopes that it will meet with your approval.
New York has passed through a storm such as no Eastern city has ever experienced and which few Western districts have ever encountered. Out in Cambridge, you can form no adequate idea of the extent and fierceness of the blizzard through which New York has just passed. Business was stopped and communication with the outside world shut off. The cold was intense and a coating of ice was formed on the East River thick enough to bear the weight of a large crowd who availed themselves of this opportunity of crossing the river. The drifts in the city were enormous and few cabs ventured out after "fares." The demand for conveyances was wide-spread and exorbitant prices were paid for rides. A number of Wall St. brokers collected around a solitary cab and a spirited bidding took place for its possession, The price which that cab brought was thirty-six dollars. It was a common occurrence for several men to charter a coach to take them to their houses, often paying as high as eight dollars per man. Social events of all kinds were postponed, as the livery stables refused to send out any scabs. Business was practically at a stand-still. Of the eleven hundred members of the stock exchange, thirty were present on Tuesday. Many restaurants were closed on account of lack of fuel.
The blockade of street cars began Monday evening; by Tuesday not a car was running. Along the main lines might be seen cars which, having got fastened in a drift had been abandoned by the drivers. These were used as resting places by weary and snowbound pedestrians. Several cars were snowed up in the tunnel of the Fourth Avenue Surface Railroad. The passengers got out, but provender had to be lowered for the horses. In some of the down-town stores, it was thought best to have the employees sleep on the premises, as no means of conveyance could be gotten for them.
Few of the theatres were open on Tuesday night. Many of the performers were unable to keep their engagements owing to the difficulty of getting conveyances. The business of the Post Office was practically suspended. No mails were sent out and none received. Food in private dwellings was extremely scarce as it was impossible for grocers or provision dealers to deliver goods. Those who could not send for their provisions, subsisted on whatever happened to be at hand.
The storm had its comical side. The loss of an umbrella or hat was of frequent occurrence. On Broadway, one woman of 200 pounds weight got caught in a drift. The frantic efforts of her escort to extricate her were without avail. Extra aid was summoned and after repeated attempts she was rescued and placed upon firm ground.
A confectioner's wagon was abandoned by the driver at Twentieth St. Scarcely had he gotten out of sight when the crowd raised the vehicle and a struggle for the contents took place.
On Broad St., a truck containing 800,000 dollars got stuck in the snow. It was immediately surrounded by an expectant crowd, whose anticipations were rudely shaken where a strong guard was placed over the treasure.
I might relate many more experiences of the same nature, but as I should like this letter to go by the Fall River boat, as I understand that is now the only means of communication with Boston. I close here, I remain
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