Bolivar Point

   Bolivar Point

Suzanne Marsh

September 8, 1900

Leaving early Saturday morning, newly weds Arthur and Abigail Meacham, boarded the train in Beaumont for their honeymoon in Houston. It was under a gray cloudy day their trip began. The closer the train was to Galveston, the hard the rain seemed to be descending. The train track suddenly disappeared into a surge of water, the train began to tilt. Abigail grabbed Arthur’s arm tensely. Abigail was becoming increasing fearful as water began to rise. Arthur knew the engineer must be fighting to stay on the tracks. They were almost to Point Bolivar, hopefully someone would have a plan to save those on the train. They would soon have to make a difficult choice, either to stay on the train until a relief train came or disembark, wade across the short span of water to the Point Bolivar Lighthouse, and relative safety. The more they talked things through, the more frightened Abigail became. She looked out at the storm, as it continued to rain, the wind began to rock the train car and water began to surge higher. Suddenly the trail lurched, then stopped.

The conductor walked up and down the isles, attempting to reassure everyone all would be well, if no one panicked. He informed the occupants of the car, the engineer thought it would be a good idea for those who wished, to wade across to the lighthouse. Ten people stood up, including Arthur and Abigail.

Arthur led Abigail by the hand into the waist deep water as they debarked from the train;, moving slowing toward the lighthouse. By the time they reached the shore and walked slowly up to the door of lighthouse, the hurricane hit at full force.

It was eight o’clock in the evening, the wind began to howl like an banshee; they quickly made their way inside the lighthouse, they crammed in with almost two hundred other people. There was only one place to sit, that was on the metal spiral staircase just inside the door of the lighthouse. They still felt safer there than on the train. A woman in a ragged dress moved over so Abigail could squeeze in. Arthur stood until the gentleman next to the ragged dressed woman move a little to his right. The winds continued, at one point the top part of the lighthouse began to sway, however it somehow withstood the storm. The rain was terrifying as the water began to slowly seep into the lighthouse. All any of them could do was sit. Arthur held Abigail’s hand as she tried not to shore her fear. She couldn’t swim, that scared her even more. Fear is a strange thing, especially when folks can’t see, there were no windows in the lighthouse other than those at the top. The lighthouse keeper and his wife had brought some supplies, but never imagined they would have to feed two hundred people stranded in their lighthouse. The keeper’s wife began to think of ways she could feed them all with what was on hand.

People on the stairs were becoming more fearful as the night progressed. They hoped that fate would be kind to them, but waiting, with no word, no idea if there was help coming. The mere sound of the wind howling, the rain splattering the sides of the lighthouse being pelted relentlessly, was a moment none of them would ever forget. Occasionally, women wept, men smoked, children sat quietly wondering what would happen next.

The wind and rain began to intensify, Arthur began to worry about the structure and integrity of the lighthouse. He looked up the stairs and noted the solid brick walls, hoping they were solid enough to hold. The winds had already shaken the top a few times already, how much longer the structure was anyone’s guess.

Abigail began to doze off as Arthur held her tenderly. The tendrils of her long blond curly hair seemed limp, but at least she was asleep. Children began to rest against their parents and doze fitfully. The winds continued, the water now crashed against the lighthouse, the sounds carried. Quiet spread throughout the lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper and his wife once again began to prepare bread for everyone’s breakfast. She hoped there would be enough, they did not have a lot of supplies, only enough for two days, then what she wondered.

The night had been long and torturous, children were awakening, hungry, scared. Abigail, at last began to stir. Arthur, held her hand as he had all through the night. They asked if the rain was still coming down, the wind was beginning to settle down. The big question was how long would it take to be rescued? If they were rescued, how would they get to the main land. Would there be a train that would whisk them to safety?

September 9, 1900

The storm had dissipated during the night, the rain continued to fall hampering rescue efforts. That however is not where the story ends. The United States Life Saving Services maintained a station and the Eastern tip of Galveston, the Point Bolivar Lighthouse was across the channel connecting Galveston Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. Once the wind had died down and the rain began to let up, rescuers began to themselves in harms way. They knew about the people huddled in the lighthouse on Bolivar Point, the rescue was beginning. Abigail and Arthur Meacham were close to the bottom of the spiral staircase, they could hear men outside the door. The battened doors were open. The water was finally reseeding. Arthur ventured outside, what he saw was something out of a picture of a battlefield. The lighthouse held together structurally, there had been very little damage. Arthur returned to where Abigail had been seated, he took her hand leading her toward a rescue boat. Arthur could not help thinking how grateful he was that they had gotten off the train, as he later learned the ones that stayed drowned in the surging waters.

March 5, 2024

Today the Bolivar Lighthouse stands in mute testimony to the courage of people. Harry C. Clairborne was the lighthouse keeper when the Galveston Hurricane of 1900 took place, he lost his home that was nest to the lighthouse and all of his personal belongings. The lighthouse is one hundred and fifty years of age. It was built in 1872 and closed May 29, 1933, her light extinguished. 1947 the lighthouse was auctioned off to Rancher Elmer V. Boyt and his sister Ila Maxwell. Today the Point Bolivar Lighthouse Foundation is attempting to raise four million dollars to restore the lighthouse to its former glory. It is headed by Amy Maxwell Chase. It would be a terrible shame to allow this piece of history not restored to its former glory. The staircase where one hundred and twenty five people sat out the storm, is rusted as is the huge steel pole going up to the lamp. Please keep this in mind, she is a Texas treasure.