
When we think of heroes of the Old West, we often picture someone on horseback, wearing a badge, or standing tall with a rifle in hand.
But sometimes a hero wears a long skirt, climbs through a window in the middle of a hurricane, and reaches into raging floodwater to save strangers.
The Great Storm of 1900
For those who have never been to Galveston, Texas, (I haven’t!) it’s located on a long, skinny-looking island on the southernmost edge of Texas with Galveston Bay on one side and the Gulf of America on the other. It’s pretty and scenic, and lots of cruise ships sail from there. But the island is notoriously only a few feet above sea level, which makes it very prone to disasters.
Especially more so in 1900.

The Hurricane
On September 8, 1900, a devastating hurricane struck Galveston. Known today as the Great Storm of 1900, it remains one of the deadliest natural disasters in American history. Thousands perished as wind and water swept across the island, destroying homes, businesses, churches, and families in a matter of hours. The Galveston Historical Foundation notes that at least 6,000 people died, many by drowning or beneath collapsing debris. But because records were incomplete and entire families vanished, other sources estimate the death toll was even higher at 8,000 or even 12,000. Yikes!
At the time, Galveston was a thriving island city—wealthy, busy, and important as a port. When the hurricane came ashore, storm tides of roughly 8 to 15 feet swept across the island. NOAA describes winds over 130 mph and a 15-foot storm surge. Another yikes!
But as often happens, in the aftermath of unspeakable tragedy, stories of courage rise up like cream from fresh milk.
The Schoolteacher
One story remains today, 126 years later. Some say the story is legend. Others claim it’s real. But for the story to linger so long, with so many details to make it believable, I’d like to think this heroine deserves her place in the history books.
The story goes that a young schoolteacher took shelter inside the Hutchings, Sealy & Company Bank building on the Strand. The building was built in the 1890s and was one of the structures that survived the 1900 storm. It’s still in existence today.
As the storm surge rose—some accounts say as high as seventeen feet—the schoolteacher found herself above a city enveloped in darkness. I’d love to know how she got there, or if she was alone, but from the third floor, she climbed through a window and balanced on a narrow ledge. (You can see the ledges in the picture.) Then, instead of staying safely inside, she reached down toward the raging waters and pulled people from the water, one by one, and dragged them into the building.

Can you imagine the terror she might have felt? The roar of wind, the crash of debris, the screams of those being swept past? The darkness. The rain. The knowledge that one wrong move could send her into the flood, too?
Or maybe she didn’t feel any terror at all. Maybe she was so driven to help that her heroics took over and banished all fear from her head.
Some stories say she cared for survivors for several days afterward before dying of fever. Others say her name was lost to history, though later tellings call her Sara. Or Sarah. Because her identity is uncertain, we may never know whether her story is true.
I find that part frustrating. Of all the people she helped, and for several days after, no one thought to ask her name? Maybe at the time, names weren’t important, but “Sarah” does seem consistent, even though her last name has been lost forever. And how sad that her family might never have known how heroic she was. Or how many lives she’d saved. Maybe her family all perished, and that makes the whole thing even more sad.
But I guess, writing about her in this blog, and reading it, is another way we can honor her, right?
Have you heard about Sarah, the schoolteacher, and her legend?
What kind of hero would you be? Quiet and unassuming? Or would you be okay doing interviews in front of TV cameras and on social media? 🙂
If you had been in that bank building during the storm, do you think you would have had the courage to reach out and help?
Have you or someone close to you ever done anything heroic?
Have you ever been in a hurricane?



During World War I and continuing into the 1920s, the Great Plains enjoyed a wheat boom where the crop was plentiful and prices were high. Buoyed by this prosperity, farmers attained even more acres and plowed them under, a plan they couldn’t have foreseen would lead to the biggest man-made ecological disaster in America’s history.
suffocated, and children were sickened from breathing dust-filled air. People stuffed wet rags around windows and doors, yet the dirt still came in, coating dishes, beds, and even babies in their cribs. The film doesn’t shy away from the horrific emotional toll, either. Some who were so overwhelmed from the stress, poverty, and unrelenting hardship, took their own lives to end the despair. Including a seven-year-old boy.





In the early 1950s, the Georgia Department of Public Health wanted to create a documentary film about safe childbirth practices to educate midwives. The result was “All My Babies: A Midwife’s Own Story” (1953), directed by George C. Stoney. Mary Coley was chosen as the central figure – not actors – and the film was used for years to train midwives across the United States and internationally. It was the first time the general public was able to view a real birth on screen, and today the film is considered one of the most important public-health documentaries ever made.
Chili and Cinnamon Rolls are another phenomenon around here, one I hadn’t heard of myself until a number of years ago. Since then, I’m learning how hugely popular the unusual combination is, especially in school cafeterias, as a fundraiser feature, in restaurants, and even at Nebraska Husker football tailgates.
likely not until the advent of folks raving online decades later that spurred the popularity of such an unusual combination. That and word of mouth from popular local restaurants.


I recently watched the 3-part docuseries, “Elizabeth Taylor: Rebel Superstar” on Fox Nation and loved it. Produced by Kim Kardashian (who surprised me with the depth of research and her skill in presenting so much information on the superstar, some of it never seen before), the series held me riveted each night.




I chose the moon to represent my story because there’s a recurring theme between the Kellan and me. The moon represents happiness, wholeness, and the two of us wanting to give each other every good thing in life now that it is finally within our reach. We know that running a large ranch in an untamed territory will take a lot of work, but also a lot of understanding and love to be successful.








