Both of these hurricanes caused much damage at Galveston, for the island was caught in the dangerous sector on the right of the center in both cases. And it was natural that when, on September 8, 1900, the winds began to increase and the tide rose above the ordinary marks at Galveston, the citizens became alarmed, expecting a repetition of the big blows of 1875 and 1886, which were still being mentioned in August and September every year when the Gulf became rough and gusty northeast winds tugged at the palm trees and oleanders. But on September 8 the wind kept on rising and the tide crept above any previous records. The weather observers feared the worst and dispatched a telegram to Washington, telling about the heavy storm swells flooding the lower parts of the city and adding, “Such high water with opposing winds never seen before.” It was not altogether unexpected. Beginning on September 4, the hurricane had been tracked across Cuba and into the Gulf toward the Texas Coast, but this rise of the sea was more than the observers had bargained for. By noon, the wind and sea were much worse, the fall of the barometer was ominous, and the Signal Corps observers, two brothers named Isaac and Joe Cline, took turns going out to the beach and reporting to Washington. At 4:00 P.M., all communications failed. Isaac found the water waist deep around his home and the wreckage of beach homes battered by waves was flying through the streets. At 6:30, Joe, who had come to the south end of the city to view the Gulf, joined his brother and found the water neck deep in the streets and roofs of houses and timbers flying overhead after being tossed into the air by giant waves. As the peril grew, fifty neighbors gathered for refuge in the Cline home because it was stronger than others in that part of the city. At 6:30, in the weather office, one of the assistant observers, Joe Blagden, looked first at the steep downward curve on the recording barometer and then noted that the wind register had failed as the gale rose to one hundred miles an hour. To repair the gauge, he climbed to the roof and crawled out, holding on tightly in the gusts and edging forward in the lulls. Reaching the instrument support, he saw that the wind gauge had been blown away, so he crawled down from the roof, after taking one brief, horrified look over the stricken city.