"On the evening of March 11th, 1888 I returned to my home at 6th Street and 7th Avenue from my father's home at about 11 P. M. It was then raining. The next morning when I awoke the entrances to the houses on the north side of the street were banked up with snow so the occupants could not get out. I tried to get a car but found those that had started had been abandoned and the horses taken back to the stables. I went down to my father's house on the corner of 4th Avenue and l0th Street to borrow a cap and he would not let me leave until evening. On my way back home I met two men helping another whom they had picked up out of the snow. When I reached them I found that it was my own brother, who still lived with my father. A nearby doctor had to be called in to revive him. It was not so much the snow as it was the rarefied bitter cold air that made progress difficult. The day after was even colder. 1 walked with others to all the ferries but none was running (we could see the boats frozen out in the river) and finally got to New York via the Brooklyn Bridge. We took the bridge back home walking from it over the frozen snow out to our homes in the Park Slope section."