The eyes of the world were on Chicago during the summer of 1893. The Columbian Exposition, or Chicago World’s Fair, changed the reputation of Chicago from a “cow town” to a world-class metropolis.
The fair was a wondrous, once-in-a-lifetime experience for many. But on July 10, 1893, it was a fatal tragedy for 17 men and their families and a traumatic experience for the fair goers who witnessed the event.
Louis J. Frank, buried in Concordia Cemetery, was one of those ill-fated men.
The Chicago World’s Fair was incredibly ambitious with over 200 buildings constructed over 686 acres on the South Side in Jackson Park. It was a massive undertaking built over the course of little more than two years. It would have been impossible to build permanent structures in such a short period of time, so wood buildings were erected which were then covered in staff, a mixture of powdered gypsum, glycerine, dextrin, jute fiber, and water, which could be molded and painted to look like marble. Only one building on the grounds was meant to last, the Palace of Fine Arts, which now houses the Museum of Science and Industry.
All kinds of marvels were presented at the fair – engines, trains, automobiles, light bulbs, appliances, jewelry, produce, art, china, furniture, the zipper – a seemingly endless list of innovations and inventions were displayed.
One of the massive buildings at the fair was the Cold Storage Building, called the “Greatest Refrigerator on Earth.” The structure was built and owned by the Hercules Iron Company, and the exhibits were run by the West Side Artificial Ice Company of Chicago. It stretched a whopping 130 by 255 feet and was six stories tall. The first floor stored the massive amounts of food served at the fair. Ice was also made on the premises and the top floor had an ice skating rink. Its neo-classical design was by Franklin Burnham (no relation to Daniel Burnham, director of works at the fair), and it fit in with the other impressive white structures which earned the fair its nickname “The White City.”
The building had a 191-foot-tall iron chimney that initially looked out of place atop its gleaming white exterior. A wooden structure, topped off by a cupola, was built to cover the chimney. Tragically, the cupola was very close to the flue, with the steel smokestack shorter than the wooden structure, leaving it exposed to heat and cinders. A “thimble” had been designed to protect the woodwork, but in the hurry to finish the building, it was never installed. There was also an open space between the smokestack and the wood exterior, leaving a void between the two.
On Tuesday, July 10, 37,264 people bought tickets to the fair. At around 1 p.m., a fire was spotted on the cupola of the Cold Storage Building. At first it looked to be a small fire. The World’s Fair firefighters (they had their own force) had already handled a similar fire earlier in the season. Firefighters, both from the fair and the City of Chicago, accessed the roof of the building. They climbed the tower using cleats that had already been embedded in the wood instead of using ladders to get to a platform just below the cupola. The plan was to pull up firehoses to douse the flames.
What the men didn’t know was that bits of burning debris had been dropping down the space between the chimney and the wood casing, starting a larger fire underneath them. Soon, smoke from below alarmed the men. Some made a split-second decision and were able to escape, but the flames soon intensified. One firefighter jumped for the hose, was able to catch it, and slid down to the roof as his clothes caught fire. Flames then burnt the hose in two before others could do the same. Frantic attempts were made to rescue the men, but they failed, ropes that were tossed up burned and broke apart in the intense flames.
An estimated 25,000 people watched. “Strong men turned their heads away and women fainted by the score.” Guards had to keep the crowd back from interfering with rescue attempts. Some said it was so packed, that they couldn’t leave even if they had wanted to. The spectators were transfixed as the trapped firemen embraced each other, saying their goodbyes. Some then jumped into the inferno. Men below put together makeshift nets from articles of clothing, but they couldn’t get close enough to catch anyone.
Finally, only two men remained on the platform, Captain Fitzpatrick tried to get his fellow firefighter to leave first, but he refused. The captain then grabbed a rope that had been burnt short, slid down the 20 feet of it that remained, pushed out away from the tower, and fell. Three firemen climbed a ladder to the roof to grab Fitzpatrick and lowered him to the ground – the crowd cheered in relief as the three others made it down. Sadly, Fitzpatrick did not survive the fall.
The last man remaining also tried to use the rope, but as he grabbed it, the tower collapsed. The papers reported, “Men who had shouted a warning the moment before stood dumb before the awful sight, the women in the multitude alone found voice. Their shrieks rose above the roaring and crackling of the flames, and as they died away a vast moan swept over the crowd – a pitiful cry from strong men who knew that death in its most awful form had claimed those whose forms were just visible through the smoke.”
By 4 p.m. the fire was out. A nearby horse stable burnt to the ground and a statue of a sphynx was destroyed, but other buildings were protected with minimal damage. A large copper statue of Christopher Columbus that stood at the entrance had been dragged out of the way of rescue equipment and survived.
It was slow work finding all of the remains in the charred rubble. Most were burned beyond recognition. (At one point, there were rumors of bodies at the bottom of an elevator shaft, but those turned out to be sheep that had been stored in the warehouse). There were differing accounts of the total dead, but the official toll is four civilians and 13 firefighters. (Nine of the firefighters were from the World’s Fair Fire Department, the rest were from Chicago’s Fire Department). One of the bodies is still unidentified and assumed to be a civilian. The cause of the fire was never detemined.
Louis J. Frank was a pipeman with the World’s Fair Fire Department. He was one of the men who leapt from the tower to the roof. He did not die on the day of the fire and was taken to the emergency hospital on the fairgrounds in a “precarious state,” badly burned and with a broken right arm. He was delirious in the hospital, calling out for his companions. He lingered for 30 hours and then passed from his injuries at 4 a.m. on July 12. He was 30 years old.
The Cold Storage Building had been known to be a fire hazard, and in fact, insurance carriers canceled coverage on the building just a month before the inferno. A Coroner’s inquest found four men at fault: Daniel Burnham of the World’s Fair Construction Department, Marshal Murphy of the fire department, and from the Hercules Iron Works, John Skinner and C.A. McDonald. But a subsequent grand jury did not make any indictments and those four men were absolved of any blame.
The owner of the rescued statue of Christopher Columbus donated it as a memorial to those who had lost their lives. After being in various locations, the statue was moved in 2001 to the Fire Museum of Greater Chicago where it currently resides. There is also a memorial for the fallen men at Oak Woods Cemetery.
The fair continued through the summer. The Cold Storage building was never rebuilt. After the fair closed, the fairgrounds fell into disrepair. Ironically, two suspicious fires took out the majority of the remaining buildings – one on Jan. 8, 1894 and another on July 5-6, 1894, the latter believed to have been part of the violence during the Pullman Strike. The beautiful White City laid in ashes.
References: Chicago Eagle, Chicago Daily Socialist, Chicago Tribune, Chicagoology.com, Digital Research Library of Illinois History, Firefighter Close Calls, Firehero.org, Fiery Tales YouTube Channel, The Inter Ocean, Harper’s Weekly, Minneapolis Journal, University of Illinois Urbana Champaign, Worldsfairchicago1893.com