WILL J. DAVIS,
One of the Theater Managers Arrested for Manslaughter.

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 remember just what I said to him. He said he was going and he went out and a little later I got up, and, without any trouble, went through the door, and I went immediately to the check room. I had checked a valise and umbrella, and at that time I had no idea of any such a fire as that. So I thought I had plenty of time and I took my valise and umbrella and set them on a settee to the left of the foyer and put on my overcoat and hat.

"When I first came out I noticed that there were a lot of women that were almost frenzied by the excitement and they were around toward the entrance, and I noticed one man carrying a woman. That was while I was going to the checkroom, and after I had put on my coat I looked and there were two women and a man that went to the door to look in, and I kind of thought the woman might rush in, so I said, 'Don't go back, it is too late now.' And they all turned around and I looked once more and by that time it looked as though there was a mass of fire belched out, and I remember seeing it catch the front seats, and after I went out and walked across the street and I talked to a policeman who stood in front of Vaughn's store and by that time about eight or ten policemen came along from down Randolph street, and shortly after the firemen came. Then for the first time I realized what a terrible thing I had escaped and the true horror of the situation unfolded itself."

THE LIGHT OPERATOR.

William Wertz, 12024 Union avenue, West Pullman, Ill.:

"I was operating a light on the rear part of the stage on the afternoon of the fire. I noticed that the actors, eight boys, were looking up toward the right hand of their places, and as soon as they did that I stepped back one or two feet, still holding my lamp in sight so as to attend to it should it go down. I looked toward the place that the people had gazed and I noticed a small blaze there upon a little platform used for throwing a light on the front of the stage. As I looked there I saw the fireman of the house, who was back on the stage, running forward hallooing, 'Lower down the curtain!' and climb up to the little platform. He had either taken a tube of kilfyre in his hand or there was one up there, as I very distinctly saw him sprinkle it on the fire. Then the man took his hands and tried to tear down the blazing pieces of scenery.

"Then I saw one drop after another go into the flame. I saw a lot of people running up to that point of the fire, others from the balcony dressing rooms come running down, and on the side of me, or close to the door were several girls becoming hysterical, excited. That was at the stage door opening onto a little bridge-like platform leading to Dearborn street. I went up to the girls and said, 'Come on, girls, get out of here as soon as possible.' I took one by the arm and put her out.

"When I came out there the girls started to run forward, and I went in again, because I was in my shirt sleeves and I wanted to take my coat and save what goods I had. As soon as I entered the stage again I heard a lot of noise and crying and calling and I went forward to that point and succeeded in pulling some more of the young ladies out. Then when I got on the little bridge leading from the stage to Dearborn street, I noticed that the whole scenery was in a blaze, that it was falling down and I tried to get in again, but through the enormous heat, and I believe that the city fire people just had arrived there with the hose and pulled me back so I couldn't get in there any more.

"I know there was an asbestos curtain in the theater and that it was used. During the time I have been connected with different theaters through the country I have always looked up to the curtains, and often put my hands on them. What was called by employees in the house the asbestos curtain, and also in several theaters in Chicago, has written on it, 'asbestos curtain.' When I entered this house on several occasions before the show I saw this particular curtain hanging there, a dirty white color, and on one or two occasions, in passing by, I pushed my hand against it and it felt to me exactly like other curtains hanging in Chicago, and on which 'asbestos' is written. One, for instance, in the Grand opera house, has written on it 'asbestos,' and is the same color in the back and has the same feeling when you put your hands on it as this one in the Iroquois theater.

"It was that curtain Sallers, the house fireman, was shouting for when I heard him. The fireman said, 'Down with that curtain,' and the other voice, which I thought was Mr. Carleton's, the stage manager, said, 'For God's sake lower that curtain.' Several other voices hallooed out, 'What is the matter with the curtain? Down with the curtain.' But it didn't fall and the holocaust followed."

THE JAMMED THEATER.

The unlawful and deadly crowded condition of the theater at the time of the fire was emphasized by the testimony of Rupert D. Laughlin, 1505 Wrightwood avenue, who, although he reached the theater before the curtain went up, found the spaces behind the seats crowded and people sitting on the steps in the aisles. Laughlin and Miss Lucy Lucas, his niece, had seats in the second balcony, or gallery.

"We went into the theater about ten minutes before the orchestra come out and had some difficulty in getting into our seats," he said, "on account of the people standing in the aisles and at the back. The people were sitting on the steps.

"The steps were very steep and people occupied them quite a way down. They had to rise and stand aside to let us make our way to our seats. There was a man and a woman sitting on the step right beside our seats. At the end of the first act I went out to the foyer. I had considerable difficulty getting out. There was a great deal larger crowd in the aisles and sitting on the steps than there was when we came down first. They were strung along the aisle and there were a great many women on the steps. I went out and walked around for a while and then came back and took my seat. I had to make the women get up as I was coming down the aisle again.

"When the fire started I went right to the first exit and out on the fire escape platform. When I got to the door there were flames and a great deal of smoke coming out from a window that was near there, and we couldn't go out at that time, so we waited for a few seconds, and the fire died down. Then we went down the fire escape to the alley.

"Many other people escaped by the same means before us—at least I should judge there was, because we saw a number of hats and furs and things of that sort on the steps. There wasn't anybody coming down in back or in front of us while we were going down."

GAS EXPLOSION HOURS BEFORE THE FIRE.

That the explosion of a gas tank came near destroying the Iroquois theater a few hours previous to the performance on the opening night, about a month before, was testified to by John Bickles, 6711 Rhodes avenue. According to Bickles, a gas tank under the stage exploded with such force that flames shot over an eight-foot partition. It was only after a hard fight on the part of employes of the theater and the fact that there was little inflammable material near the fire that the flames were subdued. Bickles stated that he did not know what sort of a gas tank exploded, as he did not inquire of the other employees. At the time he was standing in a room opposite the one in which the gas tank exploded.

"The flames leaped over an eight-foot partition, but did not burn me," said Bickles. "I went on to the stage soon after the explosion and the next day was discharged by the George A. Fuller company, builders of the theater, by whom I was employed as a carpenter. There was no work was the reason. There were a number of actresses and sewing women in the theater at the time of the explosion. The first performance was to be given that evening and everybody was making ready. I was the person who fixed the wall plates for the skylights, but I never saw them after they were finished."

From Bickles' testimony it seemed the George A. Fuller company had kept a number of its men in the theater after it was occupied by the Iroquois Theater company. They were completing unfinished details. The fact of the fire, he said, was hushed up.

PANIC AMONG THEATER EMPLOYEES.

Gilbert McLean, a scene shifter, at work on the stage when the fire started, told of the failure of the fire extinguisher to put out the blaze, and declared that the failure of the fire curtain to drop was due to a misunderstanding among the men in the flies who were supposed to operate it. Then men appeared not to know what was wanted and lost priceless time hesitating. McLean's story would indicate that the stage employees ran away long before the audience knew that there was danger. Speaking of the efforts of the stage fireman to put out the blaze soon after it started in the grand drapery, McLean said:

"If the extinguisher had been effective he could not have reached the fire at that time, though the part he did reach did not seem to be affected at all. Then there was a commotion, everybody was running back and forth, and I yelled as loud as I could to send the curtain. I saw the men did not understand the signal; they were signaling from the first entrance then by a bell. I could hear the bell ringing and I could see the fly men, as they called them, and saw they didn't understand. I yelled as loud as I could and they did not seem to understand me or to know why the curtain should be sent at that time, as it was not the regular time for the curtain.

"Well, the fire kept making headway towards the back of the stage. It spread rapidly right straight back. There seemed to have been a draft from the front of the theater. The show people started to go out fast, coming from the basement and from the stage and leaving the stage by the regular stage entrance. Somebody hallooed, 'She is gone. Everybody run for your lives.' I went towards the rear door then and made my way out as best I could.

"There had never been any fire drill on the stage so far as I know and I never heard any fire instructions. Many were out before I left and I guess all the stage people got out some way or another. It was every man for himself then."

AN EX-USHER'S WORDS.

Willard Sayles, 382 North avenue, Chicago: "I was formerly an usher at the Iroquois theater. During my period of employment the fire escape exits at the alley side of the house were always kept locked. There was one exception. The opening night Mr. Dusenberry, the head usher, had me open the inner set, the wooden doors that concealed the big outside iron ones. The people on the aisle were complaining that it was too warm. He gave orders to the director and myself to open the wooden inner doors to the auditorium. Later on Mr. Davis came up and told me to close them and not to open them unless I got instructions from him. That was the only time I got instructions from either one of them. We had not got instructions as to what doors we were to attend to in case of fire. The only time we got instructions was the Sunday before the house opened; Mr. Dusenberry called us all down there and told us to get familiar with the house. There was no fire drill or anything of that kind."