Then I bought carpet and linoleum for the floors, 24 chairs, and cases for the books, from Newman's store on Mission.

Father Tsapralis was the first minister, as he is today. Then, the poor man had no home, and I got him one and bought him a bookcase for his books. On Sundays he would have us over and give us nice dishes, and we provided the wine, so that we got along fine. For chanter, we had Papageorge, who is now minister to Oakland. For secretary we had Antony Chrisovergi. And underneath the church I had Merimeti dig out a place to build a hall to hold our meetings right on the church property. At the meeting, no one came, and, of those few that were there, up jumps Panousos and makes a fool of me, instead of encouraging me. Whereupon, I answered him in his own words. We almost came to blows, but after someone took up for me and put the man to shame, that, too, ended.

It was I who took the collection box around, always, and for a good beginning, I always put a $5.00 or $10.00 gold piece. And at the time nobody threw in pennies, the way they do now, but nothing except 50 cents, 25 cent, or 10 cent pieces. Now, some throw in 50 cents and take change $1.00. Progress that way, will you! But in 1906, with the Fire, at Easter we had $750.00.

On the morning of April 18, 1906, at 5:30 in the morning, I reached at the restaurant. At fifteen to six the first shock came, the dishes fell over, and I scolded the workers and told them to arrange the dishes so they would not fall. Then the cook came and told me that the whole kitchen had fallen in! As we were about to go out, the door closed and locked all of us inside! I lose no time, break the door, and went out, one holding the other among us, to keep from falling on the ground. Then the third shock, that did the damage and the greatest calamity, came, and the City Hall, Odd Fellows Building: all fell to bits. And one-half block from us was the Hills Hotel, which at that minute tumbled to the ground, bringing with it all the roomers out on the street. Every fifteen minutes another tremblor would come, and blessed was he who was saved. Just that minute, one man came, a cook of mine, who was almost mad with fear. He said that he had awakened and found himself on the street. Just then the fires broke out in different places throughout the city. I lose no time but take all of them and make for home. As were on Taylor Street we saw women out in the street in their nightgowns. The house had fallen down and they rushed out in fear. At the same hour came another shock and broke some glass in a house which fell on some women and threw them to the ground.

After two days, they found 5,000 dead or killed persons. The rest managed to get away and go to the Park or the Cliff House.

As I was going along with the people, we saw on the road in front of us a gape, about two feet and fifteen feet deep. We reached Fillmore Street. There we saw all the water pipes on the street. Then we reached home, where all embraced me and said they feared I was lost.

They had military laws everywhere, then, because the thieves went to work, seeing it was a good time to do so, when people were so upset. No match was to be lit anywhere. No gas. No water for six months. But we were near the park, and I sent the children everyday to bring me water. Father Tsapralis rescued the baptismal bowl and as many other things as he could from the church and sent them to my house, where, afterward, until a new church was built, we did the services at my house. In a week I had my house full of Greeks, known or otherwise, about sixty people in all. I took the stove out on the street and we cooked for everybody. Just then the officer came and demanded any food or clothes that we might have for the destitute. I gave only food because I needed all the clothes there were for those sixty people. I made two new toilets in the garden to accomodate all those souls. And we got along very well, as I had plenty of food; so, God and the Virgin Mary willing, we got along fine.

Let me tell you a story before the Fire: there was a monk come from Jerusalem who said that often in his dreams he saw that this city would be destroyed. So they thought him crazy and sent him to Napa. Three days before the Fire, all the dogs that were in the rich people's houses had run away and were not to be found anywhere! They were found on Telegraph Hill. At the same time, an air pilot came from the Pacific Ocean and said that, between the islands and Honolulu and San Francisco, he had seen the water boiling! San Francisco kept burning for seven days. Then, they began gathering the bodies of the dead, which they put all in a lake of lime, in South San Francisco. After six months they began to clean the streets.

After two years I opened a restaurant on Mission, 23rd and Mission, being the first one to open such a place on Mission street. Then I went to the bank and took the money out, which did not belong to me, and gave it to those who had it in my trust. But what I did for my own countrymen do but advertise that I had opened up a place with the money of the church -- even after such destruction they had experienced and such help I had given them!

I told them to come to my place to take the money I had in keeping, so disgusted was I. And then I gave $20.00 more, making my workers give in all $80.00 towards the building of the second church.

Now I shall tell you other sorrows, terrible more than the foregoing: what I suffered in this world, but always I had God as guide and help, who did not let me suffer starvation up to today.

I had the place on Mission only six months, because the strikes began, and they closed all the city. I closed the place and took whatever I could from it. Then I opened a small place on Franklin Street. It exists today and makes good money, while I am still wandering the streets! But Sarantides comes and tells me, plagues me to go to town and open a great big place, to make a whole lot of money. But how I know that they were making a fool of me, trusting them and believing in their words? I dreamed that we would become bankrupt and one day I wake up to the fact that we must fail. And I tell them to give me $1,500.00 and let me go, which they did. Then I opened a place on O'Farrell Street, and here my sorrows again came after me. For, one day, as I was getting off the car, I fall and break a vein in my foot. I did not notice it, but when I reached home, they saw the blood and began to weep. We call the doctor of the Foresters' Lodge No. 45, and he comes. But, about the next day, blood poisoning sets in, so that I had to stay in bed one whole month with that.

Then I found that the workers had quarreled among themselves. They leave me, and I carry on the work with one more man. My cashier whom I employed was honest the first week. But the second, on Saturday night, after he had paid off the workers, he took whatever money was left and beat it. Then I closed the place, went to Willits, California, stayed there one year, and came back and worked at Mead's Restaurant at the Ferry. Then I worked in Stockton, Palo Alto, Byron Springs, Orpheum Grill, and anywhere I could find work. Before the War, I found myself working for Pantages'a theater, as doorkeeper, and was making $15.00 a week! Then I was to make a living of that. Chrissie was working at Varellas', and thus we managed to get along.

Then I began to go on the road and sell tea and coffee but, later, I found work at Varellas' on Mission Street, with $25.00 a week.

Then it was that I was sorrowful to distraction: for my boy took a bad cold. But he got over that. After two weeks we had a terrific heat, and the boy wanted to go out. I told my wife to tie him, if he tried to go out. But the boy ran away and went to the beach all day in the water. When he came back, he was sick to death, and the doctor said he could do nothing for me now. That night I dreamed that my boy came to me and said, "Papa, I think it is better for me to marry now instead of when I grow up." And there was a bird that used to come and sit on the boy's head every day. The bird had died, and then my boy said, being sick and given up up by the doctors, "Papa, good-by," and closed his eyes and departed.

Many other things happened to me. Now I shall tell you another story: On O'Farrell St., I saw Jerome Tsona. He introduced me to his wife, but I knew her before and told him aside, "Be careful. You are her third." And he was. But, after a while, they quarreled, and he went to Honolulu. She went after him and forced him to marry her. They came back and she induced him to go to San Jose to work. She had two more "friends" who were waiting outside the store one day. She got up a quarrel with him, and as he was going out, these two men volunteered to bring him to the City. Just outside Daly City, they killed him and took him to Half Moon Bay, where they found him on the rocks soon after. And that is how our people suffer from American women, and yet our young men learn no lesson!

Now Varellas: he lost his first wife and was left with a child. A woman who was divorced from her first husband was with him then, and she sued him for breach of promise, plus $50,000! But he had a good lawyer, and it only cost him $10,000. Now he is married to Mrs. Scleris' sister and has a boy of his own. He is worth $200,000, in property, but pay no attention to whatever good luck he has on earth, for no one knows what will happen to him in this world.

Now I shall I tell you my last sorrow, that of being in bed sick for the last six months, and not a single Greek, except the doctor, has come to see me. I got the cold by sitting at the Pantages Theater, taking tickets, ten hours daily, immovable. Then, when I went home, I had a hemmorrhage and went to St. Mary's Hospital, where I remained one night. Next day, I went home and got Dr. Apostolides, who told me he would take me to the County hospital, where I did not have to pay, since he knew I had little money; and then we would see what was the matter with me. They took an X-ray and found my kidneys affected. Three days and nights I stayed there, and what I suffered I only know. Pain, I mean...

After three days, they told me that they would have to operate, and I said I had better go home to die. So I did, but then the blood came in torrents and the doctor came again, and he said that, if I wanted to live, he had to operate. Whereupon, having no money, I mortgage my home and go to the hospital. But that was not was not enough. Another sorrow came to me: my daughter Adamantia, in a very bad condition. My eyes fill with tears, and when her husband came and asked me the matter, I told him, "Can't you see that the girl is dying, sick?" And he said, "Oh, she is all right!"

Then, in my dream that night, I saw her, who said to me that she was going to dance the Greek dance on the beach with the Nereides. After two days, she passed on, my innocent creation of love, my girl. Isn't it peculiar that I should always dream of those relatives of mine who are about to die?

I have a sister who is 77 years old and who is very strong yet. She has a son 42 years old, John Stratos. His sister has six children and lives in San Jose. I also have a sister in Galaxidion who is 80 years old. And I have a daughter Chrissie, who is the wife of Bill George, son of George who is in Napa, a farmer. He served on the German lines for two years and came home safe. He has a little son, four years old, Peter George. I myself am still in my house I had even before the Fire. I, my wife, and our daughter, Calliope, who is still single and who is the support of the family. She is an expert swimmer and a good tennis player. She has received many cups for awards and she works in a factory at Second St. and Mission, making $120.00 per month.

What will happen to me until I die I don't know myself. I pray God I might get well in a little while or else die.

I have written enough, I think, until today, and I hope that my countrymen may profit from my writings to do better than I did. And I helped many Greeks marry their own women, and many women have told me, "I prefer a poor Greek to a rich American for my children."

And, so, up to today I have saved them and myself and I pray God that he may take good care of every single Greek, poor or otherwise, from every evil. My name is Alexander Katsikostas, from Galaxidion, and I hold a ship's license. I have lived in San Francisco for over 40 years. This 24th day of May, 1924, in which I am writing my life. Farewell, every Greek here and good health to you all.