This is an excellent overview of Chicago's infamous 1903 Iroquois Theatre fire. Unlike many books about tragedies, which usually peter out quickly after the tale of the tragedy, I actually found the chapters detailing the legal aftermath every bit as interesting the fire itself. Reading about this tragedy, which resulted in the death of over 600 people, made me think about large-scale fatal fires and how rare they are in America in this day and age. So many tragic 20th century fires - the Iroquois, the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, the Cocoanut Grove, the Circus Fire, Our Lady of the Angels - resulted in improved safety regulations and inspections which have significantly reduced the number of such tragedies in modern life. The Station nightclub disaster is one of the few in recent history I could recall.
Of course, before I could finish the book, news came in of the Ghost Ship fire in Oakland, killing 36 vibrant young artists who found themselves trapped upstairs with a blaze raging through their only escape route below them. Naturally, in the wake of this disaster, there has been a lot of finger pointing, both at the city of Oakland for not performing inspections on the makeshift warehouse residence and on the Ghost Ship owner for not providing a safe environment for his artist community. (Of course, this overlooks the real culprit - unchecked Capitalism that has resulted in a lack of affordable housing options in the Bay Area. Sometimes you take unnecessary risks because... they actually ARE necessary!)
In any event, the blame game reminds me of the Iroquois Theatre disaster, when a battle of public opinion was waged between the theater owners (for not ensuring the building was complete and safe before opening for business), contractors (for not completing the ventilation system and fire escapes), management (for locking exit routes and not providing adequate fire extinguishers), architect (for designing a grand promenade that resulted in a log-jam of patrons trying to exit and for disguising emergency exits so they looked prettier) and the City of Chicago (for an inadequate safety inspection).
Ultimately, as with so many American atrocities, there were so many to blame for the fire that NO ONE was legally held to blame for it. It was a perfect storm of incompetence, greed, and poor decisions that doomed the audience of mostly women and children who attended a matinee performance of the musical Mr. Bluebeard on December 30, 1903. Much like the Titanic disaster which would follow nearly a decade later, the fate of the crowd in the "absolutely fireproof" theatre was largely dependent on social class, with a majority of victims residing in the balcony and gallery "cheap seats". As if it wasn't bad enough that the panicked balcony patrons found their exit corridor had been blocked by an accordion gate (which had been locked by theater employees to prevent the peasants from trying to sneak down to the more expensive floor seats during the show), they were also doomed by the construction company, struggling to meet an oft-delayed deadline, neglecting to finish installing the ventilation system in the roof. And they were doomed by the installation of an "asbestos curtain" designed to protect the crowd that turned out to neither be made of asbestos nor lowered properly. It caught on some equipment about 20 feet from the stage floor, and when the backstage doors were flung open to allow crew to escape, the suddenly influx of oxygen turned the inferno into a fireball that shot beneath the curtain, straight up into the balcony, incinerating those in its path.
Some of the balcony patrons were able to make it to the upper level fire escapes... only to discover that they had never been finished; there were no stairs. The rush of people behind them pushed many to their deaths. Students in Northwestern University across the alley saved some people by putting long boards and ladders across the chasm, but many people fell to their deaths trying to cross the slippery, rickety escape route. The area became known as "Death Alley" as at least 125 died on the cold cobblestones.
Those who shelled out the extra money for floor seats had much improved odds of escape, since the fireball blew over their heads and they didn't have to contend with the unfinished fire escapes, but the confusing layout of the dark, smoke-filled theater lead to many tragedies there as well. There were emergency exits with confusing locks that could not be opened, mirrored ornamental "doors" that were not actually exits, dead-ends, bottlenecks where multiple corridors converged into one, and inward-opening doors that could not be opened due to the pressure of the panicked crowd crushing behind them.
A lot was learned about fire safety in the aftermath of the Iroquois Fire disaster, but as The Station nightclub and Ghost Ship warehouse fires prove, despite all our safeguards, we're all still just a stray spark away from disaster. As I sit here typing, I look around at my studio apartment with both exit doors placed right next to each other. Were a fire to start in that section of the building, I'd have nowhere to go except out a third story window, just like those who jumped into Death Alley. How many of us can say the same? Ultimately, for all the safety measures we take, we're all just delicate fleshy creatures at the mercy of the elements. And sometimes we end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.