Lest We Forget: Chicago's Awful Theater Horror

"Well, I instantly thought about the stairway that I had to come up getting into this box, and somehow or other I could not get it out of my mind. I said: 'Well, now, I don't know; we better get down near the door – it looks pretty good – the outside.' So we finally started, and as we started out of the box I suggested that he tell the gentleman and lady that were in the box with us that they had better come on, which I understand he did. He came down the stairs.

"It was a blast of flame or fire, a sort of ball or something that appeared to me like it was a lot of scenery that was burning down, scenery or flimsy work. It burnt a great deal on the order of paper. All I thought of was the opening of that door, because the people at that time were crowding close to me and screaming and hallooing, and I don't just remember just how I got that door open, but anyway it opened and carried the crowd out. I tried to do what I could around there for the people that were being trampled on, trying to pull them out from the middle of the alley and start them on their way if they were not too badly hurt, until they began jumping off the fire escapes above, and I noticed and looked up and saw that the people were not moving.

"The flames by that time had come out of the top exits that were open, and the fire escape held all the people it could and the flames were surrounding them, and they were jumping, and those that were not pushed off jumped off. I was trying to get the people on the lower fire escape, which – I can guess at it – was probably ten or fifteen feet from the ground. We got a couple of them to jump down because it was but a little ways up; they began jumping right from overhead and of course I had to look out that no one fell on me, or would jump on me, and I could not do very much of anything, only to pull out the people being trampled upon, and pull them to one side, until one man jumped on, I think, three bodies, and started to get up and go away, and was just about in a rising position when there was a lady fell on him, and he didn't move after that. It became so dangerous then that I had to get away.

"My intentions were to go around and out the same way I got in, or to get near the door, because I remarked to him when I got down stairs: 'We may have to help some of these little children here in case they don't put this out,' although I thought they would put it out. Well, there were three or four people standing along there, and when we reached the main floor just about that time the audience began to notice there was a fire.

"Previous to this time they had not seen it and they began to mumble and some of them to rise, and Mr. Foy came out and tried to quiet them by stating that it was merely a little curtain fire; that they would put it out, and to be as quiet as possible. It seemed to relieve them. A great many of them returned to their seats. I thought I could hear Mr. Foy speak to some one back in the scenery as though he was waiting for the drop curtain.

"Well, it began to look pretty bad about that time and I looked around and I saw the curtains, the first I had noticed of the exits there. I said to some one standing there, 'Where does this lead?' He says, 'Outside;' so I stayed there probably thirty seconds, when the bits of scenery and pieces of fire began to drop down all around the stage, and one or two of the girls that were on the stage at the time of the octette, fainted; well, I pushed this fellow aside, and for a moment – momentarily – looked at the lock, and it happened to be a lever that lifts up.

"I am familiar with it, as I have one in my home, and I didn't have much trouble with it, but I was kind of disappointed when I opened it, because I thought it would lead outside – when I faced the iron doors. At that time there was a big blast came out from the stage."

Charles Dexter, professional baseball player:

"I met Mr. Houseman and he invited me to go to the theater with him, and we went together and we were a little bit late. We got seats in an upper box.

"The house was quite dark when we went in, and we were ushered into the right hand box, that is, to the right of the stage; I guess that is the north box, and we got to see about the last part of the first act, and just about two minutes after we came in a lady and gentleman came in and we gave them our seats; they sat directly in front of us; I took the back seat, and just as the moonlight scene came on, the octette, Mr. Houseman turned to me and said: 'Do you see that little blaze?' And I told him I did.

"He said: 'I think it is about time for us to get out of here.' I told him I thought everything would be all right; that he had better not start down stairs or say anything that would be liable to cause a panic, and he said he would go down quietly, and for me to tell the people ahead of me what to do. The stairway was so dark I tried to follow out.

"I knew he had started down the steps, and I had to wait and light a match to tell where I was going down the steps, from the box down to the first floor. I lost Mr. Houseman then; I looked for him but could not find him, and I walked around and stood very near the first box. By that time the blaze had gone up.

"Mr. Foy was on the stage telling the people to be quiet or pass out quietly. I couldn't tell exactly what he said, and I noticed the orchestra seemed inclined to leave, and I could hear him yelling to the leader to play, which he did.

"They played for quite a little while; then the fire commenced dropping all around Mr. Foy, and I thought that I would get out, go out from the front door; I didn't know any other means of exit, and I started out that way. By that time the people had started out of their seats and I found that I could not get out that way very well. I thought that the best thing that I could do would be to come back and jump on the stage, hoping to get out the stage door. People were running around, and I didn't know what to do, and I ran into a crowd of little children.

"The people were running over one another. I saw some draperies hanging and I opened them. I didn't know where I was going, and I found two doors of glass or wood. I didn't stop to examine them but I opened them. I found myself up against some iron doors. I didn't know how to work them. The only thing I could see was a cross-bar, and I started to shove that up, and I couldn't shove very well, and I started to beat at it. By that time the people were pushed up against me, and I didn't know whether I would be able to get it open or not. I had all the poor little kids around me, and I beat the thing until finally it went up, and as it did of course the people behind me – we went out into the alley.

"I turned and looked back and saw a wave of fire sweeping over the whole inside of the theater."

AN ELGIN PHYSICIAN'S TALE

"Dr. De Lester Sackett, Elgin, III.:

"I attended the fateful matinee performance, accompanied by my wife, my sister-in-law and my little girl. We occupied seats in the third row of the first balcony at the extreme north end of the theater, next to the alley. At the time the fire broke out we were sitting where we could look right over to the extreme left of the stage, and what seemed to be a couple of limes, or an electric light; we could see sparks dropping from that sometimes. We could not see the light itself, but could see those sparks, evidently dropping from that kind of a light.

"That was my first impression upon seeing it. And instantly there was more or less excitement, and the party who played the part of "Bluebeard" came to the extreme front of the stage at our extreme left and tried to allay the excitement by making motions with his hands, keeping the orchestra playing and the girls dancing, at the same time trying to get the audience to keep quiet. He said that there was danger from excitement, but not much danger from the fire.

"There was much excitement in the immediate vicinity of my seats, with no gentlemen nearer than the three gentlemen sitting a little further to my right and back in the second section from us towards the rear were two young men; all others were women and children. There seemed to be perfect confusion and I rose to my feet and tried to quiet them, and counseled that they should not become excited; that there was more danger from a panic than there was from the fire. I never dreamed that the fire could reach us there, and we had to keep our positions in our seats, as I had counseled others to keep quiet, and it would not look very well for us to take the lead then and run, so we remained there until my wife said to me, 'Every one has left their seats, and we must get out of here.'

"I then turned and looked at the stage and saw how the fire had progressed and said to her: 'It is a race with death,' and I tried then to get my little girl, who was eleven years old, next to me. She was sitting next to the aisle. I reached beyond my wife and sister-in-law and I got my little girl and then I tried to crowd them into the aisle.

"The pressure was so great I could not get them into the aisle. People crowded up the aisle so thick I could not get them in there, and I discovered the seats in our rear had been vacated. Everybody was getting to the aisle, and I told my wife our only show was over these seats, and I took my little girl and started and told them to follow me, which they did. At that time in the extreme left-hand corner back of us we could see light coming up – they had got an opening there in the rear of this balcony.

"We couldn't see any opening, but we could see the light from the opening, and then we went over the seats. I didn't look back after I started. My wife and sister-in-law followed us, and we went over the seats and out of that rear exit back of the seats to the extreme north into the alley, where we found a fire escape.

"The doors were open when we got there, but I cannot help but feel that if we had started sooner we would not have got to those doors. If we had waited longer we certainly would not have got through. My ears are still not healed from the burning they got. My nose was burned, and my sister-in-law's bandages have not been removed from her face yet, she was burned so bad, and it was all from hot air coming from that stage.

"On the first landing from the exit we went out of, evidently two ladies had turned and were coming up the fire escape, instead of going the other way, they were so confused. I told them to turn and go down. They did not until I reached them and I took hold of one lady and turned her around and started her down and pushed the shutter back against the wall – I remember that very distinctly – and then we went on down and when I got to the foot of the escape I turned my child over to my wife and went back for my sister-in-law and crowded my way up between the people by keeping to the extreme outside railing, and got up probably to the first landing and found her coming down.

"It is my impression that the curtain that was lowered was burned. I know that when the party playing the part of "Bluebeard" was out there he kept those girls dancing until one of them fainted, and they lifted her up, and I thought it was the most heroic thing I ever saw, those girls remaining there with the fire dropping all about them and still dancing in an effort to quiet the audience. The draft was something fearful. It carried the fire with it. The flames came clear out over the parquet, and so much so that after I started up those steps we didn't dare to look back."

MR. MEMHARD'S DIFFICULT EXIT

Albert A. Memhard, 750 Greenleaf avenue, Rogers Park, Chicago:

"I attended the matinee performance at the Iroquois, December 30, 1903. I was sitting in section A, the tenth seat in the first row in the first balcony or dress circle on the north side of the house, and on the right hand with reference to the stage. I was between two aisles just about the middle of the section. I was there before the orchestra started to play and saw the curtain go up before the first act and the same curtain come down and then be raised before the second act. I was in company with a theater party made up of Mr. Gurnsey, who is employed at the same store as myself, and our families. Soon after the second act started we saw, almost all of us at about the same time, sparks of fire coming from the left hand corner of the stage, perhaps eight feet from the top, but we sat still until it began to come out in flames, the flames dropping on the stage. Then we started out.

"I could not open the first exit door I reached. I then went to the second exit and after some trouble I got it open by lifting up a brass lever. Then the inside doors opened, which were wood and glass. I had the iron doors to open next. I opened them by lifting a long bar. I went out on the fire escape with my friends, who were with me with the exception of my son, who had gone ahead, following the crowd. When I saw he was not with us I went back and ran almost to the top of the stairs. I brought him back. We went down the fire escape and out the alley to Dearborn street.

"The fire exits were all covered by heavy draperies that might readily be mistaken for simple decorations and were not marked or labeled in any way. Neither was there any one on hand to direct the crowd how to get out. The only light was the illumination afforded by the fire."

THE THEATER ENGINEER

Robert E. Murray, 676 Jackson boulevard, Chicago, engineer at the Iroquois theater:

"I was down stairs underneath the stage when I heard some confusion about 3:30 o'clock. I rushed upstairs onto the stage and the first person I saw was the house fireman. He had some kilfyre and was trying to sprinkle it on the fire. I saw the curtain down about ten feet from the stage and I tried to jump up and grab it to pull it down, but it was out of my reach. By that time there was fire coming down so I had to get away from there. I went to the elevator and saw that the boy was making trips and bringing people down as fast as he could. When I saw he was doing his duty I went downstairs and told my fireman to shut off steam in the house and pull the fires, so as to prevent the possibility of an explosion.

RUSH OF CHORUS GIRLS

"Then some of the musicians and chorus girls came rushing through and they wanted to know which way out. There was a door in the smoking room in the basement and I opened it for them. Some went out that way. The smoke was so thick that some of them ran back. I took them to the coal hole and shoved them out of the coal hole. The smoke was getting so thick in there we could hardly stand it, so I told the fireman to take our clothes and go to the coal hole and get out. I stayed there and shut the steam off in the boilers, and was trying to get the fire out to save any boiler explosion if the fire should get too hot.

"After I thought everybody was out of there I made a trip around the dressing rooms in the basement and hallooed, 'Everybody out down here.' Then I met a girl by the name of Nellie Reed. She was up against the wall scratching it and screaming. I grabbed her and went out with her to the street. I went back to the boiler. My toolbox was there, and I grabbed the toolbox and jerked it back on the coal pile and then I crawled out of the coal hole myself into the fresh air."

A SCHOOL GIRL'S ACCOUNT

Ruth Michel, school girl, 698 North Robey street, Chicago:

"I was sitting in the top balcony in the second row near the north or alley wall when the fire broke out. There were four in our party, all girls, and we reached our seats about five minutes before the performance began. The curtain went up for the second act and there was, I think, about twelve actresses on the stage. There was a green light thrown over the stage, to represent the moonlight, a greenish blue. I saw a man at the side of the stage making motions with his hands; I didn't know whether he was coming in at the wrong time or not, and then I saw a spark come from above the stage. Then a spark fell down, and one of the women in our party said, 'We will get out of here,' and a man rose and said he would knock our heads off if we got out, so we sat there. Then they tried to drop a curtain and it didn't come down very far.

"Then they dropped another curtain. It came down beyond the one that got stuck, came down all the way, I think. That one caught fire right away, even before it reached the stage. Then an awful draft came and it blew the flames right out over the audience. We got out of our seats, got out of an exit all right and went out on the fire escape. I got down two or three steps and we were driven back by the flames below us. The heat came up just like a furnace and I went up two or three steps and then I got under the railing and dropped to the alley. I lit on my toes and a man caught me at the same time, so I was not hurt. The distance was the same as from the fourth story window of the building across the alley. Men in the alley called to me not to jump, but I knew I had to jump or else burn up, because the flames were coming up so right behind me."

"I am only surprised that you escaped alive to tell of it," softly commented the coroner.

CHAPTER XX.

LACK OF FIRE SAFEGUARDS

Examination of Robert E. Murray, engineer of the theater, and through that fact, the man in charge of its machinery and mechanical equipment, revealed in a startling way the absolute unpreparation for fire or emergency that characterized the palatial opera house. Coroner, jury and spectators alike were stirred by the confession of absolute disregard for life evinced by the management and the certainty that no thought had been given to the possibility of a fire.

The entire fire equipment of the Iroquois as described by Murray consisted of two kilfyre tubes on the stage and one below the stage; a two inch stand pipe on the stage, two under the stage, and one near the coatroom in the front of the house. Only one of these, that in the front of the house, was equipped with hose. The kilfyre tubes were two inches in diameter and eighteen inches long. Incidentally Murray said that the ferrule along the bottom of the "asbestos" curtain was of wood, and not iron.

Questions and answers touching on these conditions, as given under oath, follow:

Q. Do you know whether the employees of the theater were at any time instructed by anybody to use these kilfyres or hose in case of fire?

A. No, sir.

Q. Was there anything on the reel of hose in the coatroom to indicate what it was there for?

A. No, there was no sign on it.

Q. Was there anything there to tell you or anybody else how to use the hose in case of fire?

A. No, sir. The hose was on the reel and all you would have to do —

Q. Never mind what you would have to do. Was there anything there for anybody to know what to do?

A. No, sir.

The witness testified that when he reached the stage after attending to his engines, the "asbestos" curtain was caught part way down.

Q. No signs saying "Exits" or "This way out" or any-thing?

A. No, sir.

Q. Any fire alarm boxes that you know of in case of fire?

A. No, sir.

Q. No bells to ring in case of fire?

A. No.

Q. No appliance to call the fire department in case of fire?

A. No, not that I know of.

Q. What would you have to do in case of a fire, go out in the street for a fire alarm or fire box?

A. If I could not put it out I would run to the box or to the telephone.

Q. Do you know where the wires were that worked the ventilators, where they were located?

A. On the north side of the stage, on the proscenium wall.

Q. Who had charge of working them?

A. The people on the stage.

Q. What do you know about the skylights, how were they opened?

A. I never noticed.

A UNIVERSITY STUDENT'S STORY

Equally damaging testimony was given by Fred H. Rea, 3231 South Park avenue, a student at the Northwestern University Dental School. After telling of the scenes when "death alley" was bridged by planks and ladders thrust from the school windows he told of the death jam on the fire escapes.

Rea's story was one of the most graphic told which narrated the horrors of Death's Alley, and the narrow escape of those who were fortunate enough to be rushed over the planks thrown to them from the University building. It was not only a story, but an additional evidence of the total lack of preparation for the meeting of just such an emergency.

"At the time the fire broke out I was in the Northwestern University building on the third floor in the law school," he said. "I heard something that sounded like an explosion and all the students present immediately ran to the lecture room. There we met some painters who were repairing the ceiling in the corridor. They joined us, bringing with them three planks and ladders. These planks we placed from the back window of the lecture room across to the upper landing of the gallery. One ladder was placed across from the fire escape of the lecture room to the second landing. Across the ladder, I think, only one person came, as the flames from the exit were so hot that nobody could reach it.

"Fourteen or fifteen persons came across the plank, and all but three or four were badly burned. I saw at least three persons try to pass down the fire escape from the top landing, but they were unable to do so, because at the second landing from the top the doors were not swung clear back against the wall. The doors were at right angles to the wall, and through the exit smoke was pouring and part of the time flames. Several people on the upper landing deliberately climbed over the railing and dropped to the alley below.

"I saw one woman drop and strike a ladder which was placed to the fire escape and bound off into the alley. A man climbed out over and was clinging by his hands, when one of the firemen came up from below and held him until a ladder could be run up. A number of people who fell in the jam on the exit burned right there before our eyes. We could see their clothes on fire. That was on the landing of the fire escape, partly in and partly out of the exit."

A CLERGYMAN'S STORY

The Rev. Albertus Perry, 5940 Princeton avenue, Chicago, was passing the theater when the panic started. He ran into the vestibule and thence into the foyer, where he saw men breaking open the doors. He remained but a short time, and left, overcome by the terrible sight.

"The great marble hall was filled with madmen and hysterical women fleeing for life," he declared. "The doors, of which there appeared to be several sets, were locked against them with the exception of the center door of each set. Men were beating against the steel and glass barriers and women crowded with the desperation of death stamped upon their faces. Smoke was puffing out, filling the beautiful foyer and telling in awful eloquence of the triumph of death further in. I could do nothing to relieve the situation for there was nothing within the power of mortal man to do to stop the horror. So I left, overcome by the terrible sight that had met my eyes."

THE FLY MAN'S STORY

Charles Sweeney, 186 North Morgan street, Chicago, "fly man" on first flying gallery, nearest point where the fire started:

"In the second act, in the 'Pale Moonlight' scene, I was sitting on a bench, and there were two or three more of the boys. About ten feet from the front of the fly gallery I saw a bright light. The other boys saw it, I guess, at the same time and we ran over there. I saw a small blaze on one of the borders. I don't know exactly which one. I hallooed across the stage to Joe Dougherty. He was the man taking Seymour's place. Seymour was sick. I said, 'Down with the asbestos curtain.' Smithey and I got tarpaulins and we slapped the flame with them. We did the best we could and then it got out of our reach. It went right along the border toward the center. Then it burned and one end of it fell down, bent like. Then it blazed all over and I saw there was no possibility of doing anything. I ran upstairs to the sixth floor and hallooed to the girls. I led them down in front of me, and I kept telling them to be careful and not to have a stampede or anything of that kind, and then I came down and went outside the building."

SCHOOL TEACHER'S THRILLING EXPERIENCE

Alice Kilroy, 67 Oregon avenue, Chicago, a Chicago school teacher:

"During the performance I stood in the upper balcony, right near the alley; a few feet from the top exit south, about the third or fourth seat from the end. I stood right back of that. When the fire first began we thought it was part of the performance and my sister said to me, very calmly, 'Even if there is no fire, let us go out in the exit.' We knew this was an exit because we had seen it opened. An usher had been out and we stepped out there.

"As soon as we stepped out the heat was intense and we saw we could not go down the steps, so we stood there on the platform of the fire escape. I tried to get in the theater again, but the people were rushing out and I could not go against the mob. I saw that the mob was trying to get out of the exit, and so I had to stand right where I was. We stood there it seemed to me, about six minutes, and we knew we were burning, and there wasn't anything to do but to stay there. We couldn't go any other place. After a few minutes some water fell on us. I did not see very much because I held a collarette up to my face to protect it from the hot air, which was unutterably awful. When the water came that kind of refreshed us and dampened the fire so we could stand up for a few minutes longer, and then a plank was put from the opposite building and we went over the plank and escaped to the Northwestern University building. The crowd behind us that had been fighting and pushing so hard seemed to die away and collapse all in an instant. The scrambling and pushing ceased. This crowd was at the entrance to the door. Something happened to them and they did not have any life, because they did not push when I turned back. When I first started to go in – when I turned back – there was lots of life, then I turned and faced them, the mob going out, because it was so hot out there I thought I could go back in the theater. Part of them fell on the floor and part outside on the fire escape platform. I think I was the last to escape alive over the planks across the alley. I was terribly burned; you can see by the bandages that I don't dare to take off yet."

GLEN VIEW MAN'S EXPERIENCE

Walter Flentye, Glen View:

"I occupied seat 7 in section R, handy to the entrance. I think it was about half-past 3, while that octet was singing there in the pale moonlight, that I just noticed a kind of a hesitation on the part of the octet, and pretty soon I saw a few sparks begin to come down about the size of those from a roman candle. They were coming down from the upper left hand corner of the stage, and pretty soon the fire began to grow more and more, and I should say that pieces of burning rags dropped down of different sizes. About that time Eddie Foy came out and tried to calm the audience. I don't just exactly remember what he said, and I kept my seat. I had no idea that there was to be anything of that kind; that the fire was to be as large as it was, and the audience down below were going out. I had a friend beside me that left. I don't reme