Lest We Forget: Chicago's Awful Theater Horror

CHAPTER XVIII.
SUGGESTIONS FOR SAFE THEATERS

Clarence J. Root, of Chicago, an assistant of Prof. Cox in the weather bureau, makes the following suggestions in connection with the safe-theater agitation:

"Location – All theaters to be in buildings by themselves, like the Illinois and Iroquois. No stores or offices to be located in them. Buildings should be isolated, with wide private or public alleys or courts entirely around the rear and sides. A false wall could be built in front of the side courts where they project upon the street, thus helping the appearance of the block. These should, however, have wide arches through them.

"Construction – All buildings to be absolutely fireproof. The buildings should be built of steel, fireproof tiling, steel lathing, etc. Scenery of asbestos or aluminum would be practicable. Aluminum is light and easily handled. The seats to be upholstered in leather. The floor to be constructed of metal, cement, mosaic or composition, with thin rubber matting over them, such as is used on sleeping-car steps. Ornamental iron work can be used on boxes, front of balconies, etc. Stair railings of brass or fancy copper. The fire curtain to be of steel and asbestos both. The heavy steel would prevent any bulging from a draft.

"Exits – No steps or stairs should be used in the aisles or exits or anywhere in the theater. Easy inclines, similar to the ones in the new Pittsburg theater, should be used in the aisles, the inside entrances and exits, and the outside exits, all to be covered with rubber to prevent slipping. Two or three very wide exits ought to be provided on each side of the theater, and in addition, one (say twice as wide as the aisle) at the rear end of each aisle, the hallway leading from these rear exits, if not opening outdoors, to be wide enough to accommodate the entire number of exits. These rules should apply in the balconies, also. The outside fire-escapes to be long, easy inclines, with high sides, to prevent people from jumping. Each exit to have its own independent incline, so that the crowd from the first balcony cannot block those from the upper gallery, as in the Iroquois fire. All doors to swing outward and not to be locked during the performance. They should be inspected before each play and should be so connected, electrically, that every door in the house could be thrown open instantly, merely by the touching of a button, these buttons to be located on the stage and other places convenient to the ushers and employees. Theaters should not be built 'L' shape. That was one fault of the Iroquois. The crowd naturally followed the aisles to the back of the house and then, instead of finding themselves at the outdoor exits, as in most playhouses, they had to go clear to one side of the theater. This mixed them up with the crowds from the other aisles and concentrated too many people in one place.

"Summary – A theater as described above could not burn, but a sprinkler system would do no harm. Heating and power plant in another building would prevent danger of an explosion. The aisles should be very wide and no standing room or portable chairs allowed. It may seem unnecessary in a fireproof theater to have such elaborate exits, but panics will occur from other causes than fires. A plan of the house should be printed on the cover of the program; this should plainly show the exits. A description of the fireproof qualities of the theater should also be printed. This will secure the confidence of the audience, and perhaps avert a panic. In a house built and equipped, strictly in accordance with the above ideas, a fire would be impossible and a serious panic unlikely."

FRANCIS WILSON SAYS "NO STEPS."

Francis Wilson, the well known actor, in speaking of the fire, said:

"I suppose similar scenes always will follow a sudden rush in any building crowded with men and women, but I feel strongly that theater buildings could be improved so as to reduce the danger in a stampede to a minimum. It is my opinion that there should not be a single step in a theater. The descents should be gentle inclines. That this is possible is shown by the construction of a new theater in Pittsburg, where even the gallery is reached by inclines.

"It is the thought of the many stairways that must be passed quickly, and possibly in darkness, that drives the occupants of the galleries to panic at any alarm. If they were sure of a clear pathway straight to the street half their fear would be allayed. In doing away with steps in the auditoriums of theaters the builders should not forget the actors."

STAIRCASES WITH RAILINGS

Suggestion by W. B. Chamberlain, of London:

"In nearly all fires in theaters loss of life seems to be at the head of stairs. This is natural, as persons who come first to the head of the stairs, hold back, being afraid to go down quickly lest they be pushed down by those behind them. People seem to think a broad staircase safer than a narrow one. I don't think this is the case, as in a narrow one you can put your hands on two sides, and go down with less fear of being thrown forward. All wide staircases should be provided with handrails, for if you have both hands on handrails you can run down quickly. If theaters were below ground you would in case of fire run up instead of down. They would be much safer for want of air to feed the flames."

PRECAUTIONS ENFORCED IN LONDON

According to Sir Algernon West, of London, since 1858 not a single life has been lost in a properly licensed theater building in that city, except of a fireman, who perished in the performance of duty at the Alhambra in 1882. During the few days following the Iroquois disaster, theater managers and the public praised the wisdom of the rules of the county council, whereas some of the former had been wont to find them rather irksome. In addition to the main rules about lowering the asbestos curtain once during the performance, doors opening outward, stairways and passages to be kept free, there are some other precautions which must be observed. All doors used for the purpose of exit must, if fastened during the time the public are in the building, be secured during such time only by automatic bolts only of a pattern and position approved by the council. The management must allow the public to leave by all exit doors. All gas burners within reach of the audience must be protected by glass or wire globes. All gas taps within reach of the public must be made secure.

An additional means of lighting for use in the event of the principal system being extinguished must be provided in the auditorium, corridors, passages, exits and staircases. If oil or candle lamps are used for this purpose, they must be of a pattern approved by the council, and properly secured to a noninflammable base, out of reach of the public. Such lamps must be kept lighted during the whole time the public is in the premises. No mineral oil must be used in them. All hangings, curtains and draperies must be rendered noninflammable. Scenery is painted on canvas that has been first prepared with a solution recommended by the county council, to make it noninflammable. The paints used by the scenic artists contain no oils.

WHAT THE CHICAGO CITY ENGINEER SAYS

John Ericson, the city engineer of Chicago, has this to offer:

"A theater building should have an open space on all sides with exits and entrances leading directly out, and not, as now is mostly the case, be wedged in tight between other large buildings, with a number of exits all leading to one or two not too wide hallways which again, together with the stairways from the balconies and galleries, merge into one entrance. These halls and stairways are only too easily blocked by the frantic people in case of a panic. The aisles in most of our theaters are also too narrow and should be made considerably wider.

"The excuse that space is too valuable for such extravagance cannot hold. If the return for the capital invested in such a case does not seem sufficiently large to the investor, then rather charge a little more for the entertainment or reduce the number of playhouses so as to insure full houses, but in the name of humanity construct those that are used in such a way that calamities such as have occurred will be an impossibility.

"I am also of the opinion that perforated water pipes over the stage, into which water can be turned at a moment's notice so as to drench the whole stage if necessary, would add greatly to the safety of life and property.

"An automatic sprinkler system would probably have been less effective in the case of the Iroquois fire, as great damage to life would have probably been done before such sprinklers would have been put into action."

OPINION OF A FIREPROOF EXPERT

William Clendennin, editor of the Fireproof Magazine, condemned the Iroquois Theater building as long ago as last August. Here is his opinion, which he asserts is based on a personal investigation:

"The Iroquois theater was a firetrap. The whole thing was a rush construction. It was beautiful but it was cheap. Everything but the structural members was of wood; the roller on the asbestos curtain, the pulleys, all of a cheap compromise.

"I made an investigation of the theater last August and condemned it on four different points. My condemnation was published in the August number of the Fireproof. The points are:

"1. The absence of an intake, or stage draft shaft.

"2. The exposed re-enforcement of the concrete arch.

"3. The presence of wood trim on everything.

"4. The inadequate provision of exits.

"A theater has two parts – the stage and the house or audience part. There should be a roll shutter between the two and the best sort of a curtain is a compromise. The poor stuff in the curtain at the Iroquois theater made it doubly a compromise; a great danger, a terrible trap.

"The stage may be compared to a closet. When you open a closet door the draft is outward, not inward. So when the fire started on the stage the draft pulled it toward the audience. It was a quick flame puff.

"The arch, or ceiling, was covered with a cheap concrete. The first puff of flame destroyed this. It crumbled away, exposing the twisted mass of steel re-enforcement and girders, and fell on the audience. This killed many. Looking from below, the bewildered, choking and maddened crowd thought it was the result of a panic above. They believed the galleries were falling and in the rush resulting many more were killed.

"The Iroquois theater was the most-talked-of construction in the country at the time of its building. It was believed to be the expression of the most modern ideas in regard to theater building; to be about as near fireproof as one could be. My investigation satisfied me that it was one of the worst firetraps in the city. There was so much wood and so much plush and inflammable trimming about everything. The insufficient exits tell the rest of the story."

ILLUMINATED EXIT SIGNS

On this point T. B. Badt, a consulting electrical engineer of Chicago, writes:

"It has been stated that in the Iroquois no exit signs were over the doors, and it has been suggested that this was one of the causes of loss of life. The question arises, what would signs have been good for if the theater was thrown in darkness? The signs would not have been seen any more than the doors underneath the draperies. In order to avoid such trouble I should propose the following:

"Have over each door a transparent sign made out of metal with glass crystal letters, and have same illuminated from the outside of the building wall by means of a lantern attached on the outside, and have this lantern supplied by a source of light independent of the theater lighting system, either electric or gas. The sign would be illuminated at all times during the performance; it would not be an objection during dark scenes, because there would be practically no light thrown through the glass letters to interfere with the darkness inside; at the same time the sign would stand there glaring the word 'exit,' no matter how dark the theater or how light the theater. The main point I am trying to raise is that any device which has to be operated in case of an emergency is liable to fail, but an illuminated sign that will be illuminated at all times will be there no matter what trouble may happen, because nobody can forget to light it during the excitement, as it is already lighted before the performance commences. This, in my opinion, is the keynote for all devices which are intended to prevent panics in theaters. An automatic device is dependent upon certain conditions, usually rise of temperature near the ceiling. A manually operated safety device depends upon the presence of mind and cool-headedness of a certain employee and in my opinion all these features should be eliminated. Everything should be ready for an emergency and not be dependent upon somebody or something to make it ready. All exit doors ought to be unlocked and swing open towards the outside, and this, in connection with the permanently illuminated sign above the door saying 'exit,' in my opinion, would prevent any of the calamities heretofore experienced in theater disasters."

CHAPTER XIX.
THE SWORN TESTIMONY OF THE SURVIVORS

Scores and scores of witnesses assembled in the little committee rooms and antechambers of the council hall in the great Chicago administrative building, each with his story to add to the story of horror, when the inquest over the dead began on Thursday, January 7, 1904, one week and a day after the disaster.

Some were muffled under great rolls of bandages that concealed frightful scars and burns. Others gave no outward indication of the season of terror they had passed and survived to tell the tale. Fashionable theater goers, actors, actresses and stage hands, chorus girls, belted policemen and grim firemen, all met on terms of temporary equality, forming a heterogeneous assemblage waiting the call to take the stand. One by one they were admitted to the vast council chamber where for days the inquisition continued.

Vast throngs of curious besieged the place, clamoring for opportunity to view the proceedings. None, save the favored few citizens to whom tickets were issued, municipal, county and state officials and representatives of the press, enjoyed that opportunity. To them day after day a growing tale of suffering and death was unfolded such as has not fallen upon mortal ears for half a century. It was a harrowing recital that satiated and sickened the auditors and left them faint at each adjournment.

For days preceding the opening session Coroner Traeger his deputies and the six jurors had been engaged in a canvass of hospitals, undertaking establishments and morgues, viewing the dead. Nor was that ghastly work over when they entered upon the semi-judicial task of taking testimony. Ever and anon they halted the inquiry to proceed to the bedside of some victim that had died after lingering suffering. This formality was necessary before burial permits could issue. Each succeeding call brought to the jurors a shudder. Theirs was a gruesome task for the public service and they felt its burden keenly.

The trend of the statements taken were the same. Details formed the only variations. Some of the statements follow:

THE FIRST WITNESS

John C. Galvin, 1677 West Monroe street, Chicago, the first witness heard, said:

"On the day the fire occurred I stepped into the vestibule to buy tickets for the following evening. It must have been a little after half past three. As I stepped into the entrance I looked into the lobby and turned to the ticket office, and as I did so the center doors of the lobby foyer and the outside entrance doors were blown open as though by a gust of hot air. I looked into the foyer and I saw people running toward the entrance. I realized at once what the trouble was, and went to the lobby doors and tried to open the west door there, that being the nearest to me. It was locked on the inside and I couldn't do anything with it.

"Then I tried to pacify the people from rushing or crowding, tried to save the panic, but it was no use. I would judge there were probably a dozen, not more than a dozen, cleared the door before the crush came. I recollect the first person to go down seemed to be a rather stout woman, who seemed to be free herself, somebody stepping on her skirt. She turned to gather up her skirts and she was borne down by the crowd, and then they piled on top of each other. I did what I could to release the jam, pulling the people from under the crowd and getting them out into the entrance, out into the street, but all the while the vestibule was filling up by those returning to help their friends, and people rushing into the street and helping to bring the crowd to. I tried to open the outside entrance door, the west door, which I found was bolted on the inside at that time. I tried to lift the bolt, but I couldn't do that.

"Then I kicked out two of the panels. I kicked the glass out of the panels, and I then returned to the west vestibule door and I kicked out the panels of these two doors, that is, the west door, and tried to take some of the people out through the openings. After we got out of the doorway I walked back into the entrance gallery and walked around, and there was a dense smoke coming from the theater.

"I was expecting a big crush in the vestibule, a much larger crush than I saw. I thought there would be a jam on that stair, but nobody came down the stairs to my recollection, not a soul. They never lived to reach it. All the time I was there I saw no one whose dress or demeanor would indicate they were policemen, firemen or attaches of the theater. I remained doing what I could to relieve the situation until driven out by the smoke. I then went across the street and watched the destruction of the theater."

MARLOWE'S EXPERIENCE

James C. McGurn, 2 Rosemont street, Dorchester, Mass., known on the stage as James C. Marlowe:

"I was in the Garrick theater, a block distant, to see the show. At the first alarm I hurried out and went down to the Iroquois theater entrance. I went inside and the firemen were in working at the time, getting lines of hose in there. Some of the firemen were already pouring streams through into the lobby. There was a tremendous draft there and the lobby was clear, but directly inside the door that had been opened there were dense volumes of smoke. The first thought that struck my mind, being conversant with theaters, was that there might be somebody in the house. Just then a man came in there, followed by another man, a citizen, and we were the only men in the lobby outside of the firemen. He asked for the gallery stairway and immediately after that I saw him going up the stairs to the right as you go in the lobby. He went up these stairs with his men and a fireman followed him.

"I was watching the stairs, and they were up there thirty seconds, about, when the fireman came down with the first body, a little girl, about eight years old. He shouted out to the firemen for God's sake to get up there, and all the firemen I saw in the lobby dropped everything and went up, and they weren't up there but a few seconds before they came tumbling down with bodies, and after I had remained there about three minutes more I saw dozens of bodies brought down. One fireman slipped with the body of an old lady about the fourth step and fell down on the marble floor and I helped put her into the fireman's arms. The smoke was so dense I could not see much and as I could do nothing to help any one I hurried out of the foyer."

MUSICAL DIRECTOR'S SWORN STATEMENT

Antonio Frosolono, 170 Seminary avenue, Chicago, musical director at the ill-fated theater:

"I was in the Iroquois theater playing at that performance in the orchestra. I was not directing the performance, as the company has its own director. I was sitting sideways, facing the east door of the stage. The stage was to my left. I do not know how the fire started, only I heard a confusion.

"The 'Pale Moonlight' scene was on and sixteen people, the double octette, occupied the stage. Some of them did not sing, and some of them went out of their places. Eddie Foy came out and announced that if everybody would keep quiet everything would be all right. Then, when I turned around, the stage fireman had kicked a piece of blazing curtain down in the orchestra.

"Then the bassoon player made a terrible scramble to get out, and I think he succeeded in getting out. Then after that Mr. Dolere, the musical director for the company, went out like a shot out of a gun; he went over the stand and everything. He went under the stage. Then everybody else got out. I still sat there, because I did not see much danger to myself, as I thought, or anybody else. I saw the people when they went out, and I heard the cries, and that is what attracted my attention. I stayed there until everybody else had gone out of the orchestra. The time when I thought it was time to get out was when the bass fiddle and the 'cello got to burning.

"All were excited on the stage. Some tried to put the fire out and others ran. Some one was trying to lower the curtain, but it would not come down all the way. Of a sudden it bulged out over my head like a balloon. Then the flames began to rush out from under the curtain. I saw the people rushing out, some jumping over, hallooing and screaming; then I turned around at that instant to my right and saw that the violin and 'cello and bass fiddle had caught on fire at one of the music stands, and then I went out."

MRS. PETRY'S ESCAPE

Mrs. Josephine Petry, 6014 Morgan street:

"On Wednesday afternoon at 2:15 I went to the Iroquois theater. It was late; the performance had begun. My ticket entitled me to what I thought was the balcony, but it was at the top of the house, and when I went up there the theater was dark and the people were standing four deep behind my seat.

"It was the second act, the moonlight octette, if I am not mistaken, when I saw on the left hand side behind the proscenium arch a bright light. I kept my eyes on that, because to me it did not look right, and it got brighter all the time. Eddie Foy came right beside the proscenium arch, right where the fire was on the side, over him, and told the people they should keep their seats, there was no danger. Naturally a few got up, but they sat down again. Some people said: 'Keep your seats.' I got up and some one said beside me: 'Sit down, there is nothing the matter.' I sat down again, but the glare was getting much brighter and pieces of charred cloth were falling down, although the flames by then had not come forward. They were all behind, but you could see the light so brightly I picked up my wraps and went out.

"I went out by the same way I entered. At the lower floor about a hundred people were trying to get out. The doors were locked. When I left the charred remnants of the scenery were falling down in large chunks onto the stage, and the lights were so bright that they scared me, and I got up, but the flames had not reached the stage yet when I left, but when I got down to the exit and I turned my head there was a mass of flames behind; it was all flames, and yet I did not hear a sound."

UP AGAINST LOCKED DOORS

Ebson Ryburn, stock broker, 3449 Prairie avenue, Chicago:

"I was at the box office with the intention of purchasing tickets for the night; I went to the box office about 3:30 p. m., and when I went in there were three or four others ahead of me. Suddenly I heard some commotion on the inside and several persons rushed out, and there must have been as many as five or six, I guess, got out, and then I heard a woman cry 'Fire.' Up to that time I did not think it was anything serious. I thought probably it was a scare and I looked in through the door and I saw more coming – rushing – and I rushed over to hold the doors open, and did so for a length of time until quite a number got out, and I noticed several going to the door next to it; that is, the last door west; and then came over to this other door.

"They tried to push it open. I left where I was and went to that door and tried to force it open and could not. I saw between the two doors a bolt or a bar, and there was quite a number coming out the other door then and I saw there was no chance to come out, and I tried to open the other door opposite that leading into the street, and that door was in the same condition, locked or bolted; it was fastened; I could not get out of that door and I could not get in the other. Then there were quite a number coming out, and I noticed several men, and by that time I could see smoke, a little haze of smoke, and every one coming out seemed to be frightened, crazy-like, and so I got out myself into the street. The fire department had not yet arrived."

BLOWN INTO THE ALLEY

Mrs. James D. Pinedo, 478 North Hoyne avenue, Chicago:

"I reached the theater to attend the fatal matinee late, about 2:25 o'clock. The performance was in progress and we could not secure seats, so we got standing room tickets and entered. When I reached the extreme right of the theater the people were only standing one deep. There was a space there where I could see the stage, especially the left part of the stage where the sparks started, and the curtain had just rung up for the second act, a few minutes after the chorus was singing, when I saw a man using his hands trying to put out the sparks. When I saw those few sparks I quietly turned around to see if there was any fire escape or exit on that floor in case there should be a fire, and I didn't move because I was afraid of precipitating a panic. I simply turned my head and I saw what I supposed was an exit. I couldn't tell.

"I saw drapery and naturally supposed, being a theater-goer, that it masked an exit. I turned back to the stage then, and in the meantime these sparks had changed into flames, and I put on my rubbers – I was very calm at the time – and I got ready to move out. Eddie Foy told us to be perfectly quiet and avoid a panic, and there were also some men and women in the back part of the audience who also told the people to sit down. I have never seen an audience who were saner than these women and children. They sat perfectly still I should say for at least two minutes, while those sparks changed into flames. They were perfectly calm. I think most of these women realized there were little children there. The audience was nearly packed full of children.

"Then I saw the big ball of flame come out from the stage and fall in the auditorium of the theater on the heads of those in front, and I thought, 'Now is the time to get out.' I walked quietly to what I thought was an exit, and there was a little man there before me, who had torn aside the drapery, and I saw an iron door or doors heavily bolted, and we couldn't get them open. It was bolted and I heard this man ask the usher to please unlock the door, and he refused. The usher was standing there and we were frantically, of course, trying to get the door open, but it would not open, and I judge we were standing at least two minutes, probably a minute and a half – time that seemed long enough in a case like that.

"Finally the man induced this usher to try and open the door. At least they were trying to, the two of them, and I was right behind them – trying to open that door – when all of a sudden there was a rush of wind. I thought at the time it was an explosion, because I didn't know of any force powerful enough to open those iron doors, and those iron doors blew open, and blew us into the alley. Of course that is my last recollection. I was then safe."

JUST OUT IN TIME

Ella M. Churcher, 850 Washington boulevard, Chicago:

"I occupied the fourth row from the front in the top gallery, seats 42, 43 and 44, with my mother and nephew. I was sitting in the middle. A shower of sparks was the first suggestion of fire. Then the curtain was lowered and Eddie Foy stepped out. I couldn't hear his words, but his motions were to sit down and keep our seats, and we did so until I saw the red curtain that went down after the first act give away in the upper left hand corner and pieces fell, making a large opening. It was on fire.

"Then we got up and had to go about ten feet, that took us to the wall, and three steps to go up to the exit leading to the marble stairway. As we turned the last look I caught was a tongue of fire leaping to the gallery and a cloud of smoke with it, and we got the heat from it, scorching and blistering both of my ears and both my nostrils and scorching my hair and chiffon boa on my neck. At that instant we stepped out on the marble stairway, right out of it, and we got down stairs safely, and then we passed out to the street."

SPORTING MEN TESTIFY

Frank Houseman, 293 Warren avenue, Chicago:

"Dexter, the baseball player, and I dropped into the Iroquois that afternoon about 2:20 and found the house sold out with the exception of two boxes and standing room. We bought a couple of seats in an upper box and went in. The house was crowded and it was dark, for the performance was in progress. We found an usher and started up the stairway to the box. The stairway was pitch dark.

"'This is a dark stairway; this is funny they don't have a light or something here,' I said to my friend. I stumbled a couple of times going up the stairway. Finally we got to where we were seated. Well, during the intermission between the first and second acts we had a good view of the audience, being up high, and I remarked to my friend that there were a great many women and children present in event of any trouble.

"When the curtain rose for the second act, if I can remember, probably five or ten minutes after, I noticed a spark directly on the opposite side to the stage in behind. We were sitting up where we viewed the audience and it was very easy for us to distinguish the spark, and I saw a man – it looked as though he was on a pedestal of some kind; it must have been a bridge of some kind that he was standing on – working to put out the light, so I quietly said to my friend: 'Do you see those sparks over there?' He says: 'Yes; they will put that out all right.'