OLAFire Logo
Our Lady of the Angels (OLA) School Fire, December 1, 1958
nUserID=0

Personal Experiences with Our Lady of the Angels School Fire

If you have a personal experience, recollection or opinion about the December 1, 1958 Our Lady of the Angels school fire, whether you were present at the fire or not, you can relate it here. Any story or information is welcome as long as it relates to Our Lady of the Angels school fire.
Click here to add your OLA fire experience.        

Posted by: Sally Konley On: 7/10/2003 ID: 100
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 9 4 106 Sister Mary Alexis
It seemed very peculiar to be having a fire drill at 2:40 pm since we would have to stand outside in the freezing weather without coats, turn around and march inside to get our coats and turn around again and leave for the day. We had been wrapping up our lessons and the boys were collecting discarded papers to take down to the trash bins by the boilers. We lined up and marched out as usual for a drill. In the hallway, bigger kids were running down from the 2nd floor and we could hear kids screaming from the other side of the building. A few thick tendrils or smoke were creeping down the stairs. By the time I realized this was not a drill and a huge wave of fear descended, we were down the half flight of stairs and out the southeast doorway that had been right outside our door, 106, onto Iowa St. We were out in less than a minute. There was some pushing and shoving but basically we stuck together and performed as we had been drilled. As we ran past the gangway between the school and the rectory, I happpened to glance down the gangway and saw a bright, glaring light that I took to be the setting sun. It was decades later, in my adulthood, when I was thinking about the experience that I was stunned to realize it was: a) too early for sunset and b) I was looking north and not west. What I had so briefly seen was flames shooting out of the northeast doorway. I just couldn't comprehend it.

We were herded into the church and instructed to pray for the school and the children. Probably the Rosary. The atmosphere was confused and distracted and some kids from throughout the church were agitated and crying but it was reasonably orderly. Then a rumor, totally false, spread that the church was on fire, too. We were promptly dismissed and told to go home. As we poured out of the church and down the steps, I looked right, back towards the school and saw many adults just milling about. Maybe there were some fire hoses sprawled about, too. There wasn't anything out of order on the south side, not even much smoke because the wind was blowing to the north or northeast. I turned left and crossed Hamlin and started the 3 blocks to home. It seemed like the farther I got from school, the more my anxiety level rose. I started to cry, thinking, my school is hurting, my school is hurting. It never crossed my mind that CHILDREN were injured, that CHILDREN were dying. What does a 9 year old know about death? Even watching the TV that night, hearing the death toll rise, it didn't seem to be REALLY happening to children I knew and saw every day. One thing I did know, though, is that the rooms we so carelessly left, we would never enter again.

Walking down Iowa St. past Ridgeway and Lawndale, I don't remember seeing other people at all. The public schools should have been out by then and there always seemed to be people around in the neighborhood, but I don't remember seeing anyone except for one mother who was hurrying to school to find her own child. She stopped to comfort me and hug me and went on her way.

When I got home to our 2 flat on Monticello, I ran up the back stairs into the house, crying "Mama, Mama, the school is on fire". My mother, who had been sewing in the back bedroom looked up in horror and asked where Mary, my 2nd grade sister, was. I didn't know so she grabbed her coat and one for Mary and ran out ordering me to stay home with my toddler sister and my grandma. Whe it seemed like she had been gone so long, I asked my grandma if I could go outside to wait. She gave me permission and I walked down to the corner of Iowa and Monticello to see if I could see them coming, because you could almost see somone coming all the way from Hamlin. I looked and looked and there seemed to be no one on the streets. There may have been people coming home from work or from the schools, but I was looking so hard for my mother and sister that I don't remember. I even tried to stand on the fire hydrant to see better but I couldn't balance and look at the same time. Eventually it got too dark or too cold to wait outside anymore so I went home. Eventually my mother and my sister returned unharmed. We watched the TV all night in utter shock and disbelief along with the rest of the city and the country. So many children. So much grief.

We finished out the school year by attending Our Lady Help of Christians. This was way cool because we got prepared lunches and got to ride chartered buses every day and only had classes for a half day. The 2nd floor wasn't too high off the ground, either. But, eventually, the novelty wore off and we just wanted to be back at our school, the everyday way we used to be. Such a simple, beautiful, impossible wish.

The next year, arrangements were made for us to attend 3 local public schools, Orr, Hay and Cameron. The largest group went to Hay. Mary and I went to Cameron. Cameron was a big oldfashioned Chicago public school with high, airy rooms and tall windows that you opened from the top with a big pole. The rooms seemed very much like our old OLA rooms. They were sunny and breezy and so high up over the bungalows and 2 flats of the neighborhood that we felt that we could see about half the city from up there. Of course, if you looked down from those windows you knew it was way too high to jump from in case of another fire. So we tried to forget our unease about that.

Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, in the fall of 1960, we came back together to be a whole school again. The new Our Lady of the Angels was complete and it was the newest, safest and most modern school in the country. The halls were wide and sparkly clean and the rooms were large and sunny. Everything was new, new, new. New desks, new books, new everything. I was so proud to be there and relieved to be back with all the classes. I felt out fallen classmates were looking out for us and happy for us even as we remembered them and hoped they were with us. They were always, always with us. After 1 year, my parents bought a house in Austin and we moved away.

I felt like my heart was ripped out. Although OLA will always be remembered with unspeakable sadness, it was a great school to attend in a great, comfortable, and safe neighborhood. It is easy to forget that a large majority of children escaped unharmed. And I haven't even started on the wonderful, beautiful faces I remember and all the funny, goofy ordinary kid things we did. I loved OLA. And it was so worth loving. In spite of the grief and horror associated with OLA, in spite of all the difficult and complex emotions and memories, it was so worth loving.


Posted by: Theresa On: 7/6/2003 ID: 99
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Chicago, Ill.
I was nine years old attending St. Pancratius School on the southwest side of Chicago at the time of the fire. I rembember my Uncle, Stanley Myszkowski, who was the fire chief of the Bridgeview Fire Department telling my family about the fire. He was there fighting it. He told me there was some sort of a slide the children came down. He also told me that they had a line of people involved in the retrival of the children. He was in that line. He said they handed the children one person to the next because the bodies were so hot no one could hold them for long. He told me there were lots of reporters there taking pictures instead of helping and that made him very angery. I remember how upset my Uncle was as he told us this story. Normally he was a happy go lucky guy, but not that day. Uncle Stanley told us he was so angered by one reporter trying to take pictures of a charded child's body that he grabbed the reporter, punched him in the nose, and told him that if he couldn't help to get out of there and to stop being so disrespectful of the children and there families.

My Uncle was a hero that day and I was very proud of his actions. I was very moved by what he told us and still feel a part of me was there that day.

Theresa, Valparaiso, Indiana


Posted by: MARIA E. COMPIANI On: 7/1/2003 ID: 98
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 8 3 101 SR. MARY EDGAR
My name is Maria Compiani. I was in 3rd grade, 8 years old and was in the building on the day of the fire.

Our nun, Sr. Mary Edgar was out ill that day and I believe we had the Mother Superior as our substitute. She had left the room and it was going on 3:00 as she came back in to give us a homework reading assignment. The bell for dismissal was about to ring but suddenly the fire alarm went off. We were strictly trained to stand and form a line to file directly outside into the street, without stopping for coats or anything, and all of us began to do so. She told us to be re-seated as it was a false alarm. However, a lay teacher came to the door and told her there was smoke in the 2nd floor stairway, and then we all panicked and started for the door as quickly as possible. The cold air hit our faces as we all went into the street to face the horrible tragedy that was before our eyes. In just minutes we saw students at the 2nd floor windows covered with black soot screaming down for help! I remember thinking how could I help them up there, when I am down here and I am so short!

There were fire trucks, ambulances, police cars and people screaming everywhere. Finally some nuns and priests came to tell us to file into the church so we could all pray to God for help! The church was filled with students and parents and families looking for loved ones. Miss Joan Rossi, a lay teach who lived in an apartment near my home, found me and my two friends Lois and Darlene and had her boyfriend take us to our homes in his truck.

As family and friends found out about the news they were calling and coming over, and every time the phone or doorbell rang, I seemed to jump a mile high because it reminded me of sirens.

My grandparents lived with us then and they had just arrived home before I got there and they had no clue as to what had happened. When she saw me at the door with no coat and I smelled of thick smoke she started to cry at what she heard had happened. My grandmother also kept telling me how lucky I was to be near an exit that was right by an outside door and how God had wanted to save my life - she took me to every funeral home on Chicago Avenue to share prayers for the families of my fellow students who did not survive that horrible event.

I stayed on at OLA while the new school was being built and we werer bussed to various schools in the city so we could continue classed. I went to John Hayes Public School, and was back at OLA for my fifth grade term. I stayed until November, when I was confirmed with my class and then moved to Morton Grove to join my parents and brother. I attended NIU and graduated from Mundelein College on Sheridan Rd., graduating with a BA in English. I now work for a Computer Distributor in Bloomingdale, IL.

I will never forget the horror, the shock, the sadness, the pain and trauma of that December 1st, 1958. As I told Eric before, I know God took the lives of those children and nuns to serve as Angels, but those of us who survived are also special Angels that he left here on earth to serve and tell our stories as well.


Posted by: Mickey Sanders On: 6/30/2003 ID: 97
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Sherman, Kentucky
I was in 3rd grade at the time of the fire. I attended a very small rural school in Kentucky, a complete contrast to OLA. I remember my mother talking to me about the fire and how more girls than boys had died because they were afraid to jump. We talked about what I should do if there ever was a fire at my school or any other public place. We talked about knowing two ways out of any building and never be afraid to jump. A broken leg or arm could be fixed. She said don't let modesty kill you because you are afraid your dress will fly up. She emphasize to never go back into the building for my coat, books, or anything else. Once out, stay as far away as possible. She told how the nuns rolled the children down the steps to get them out of the builidng and explained that staying low is an essential maneuver in escaping a fire. This sad event provided my mother with a teaching moment and those lessons have stayed with me all these years. Whenever I am in a new place, I always look for two ways out.

The TV and newspaper images of the day stuck with me. I've never forgotten the fire and found the information on the Web a few months ago. I have read To Sleep with the Angels and appreciated the human face this book puts on the tragedy. As a parent now, I shudder to think of the agony of the OLA families.

Sometime later that year (3rd grade) we had a problem with the furnace at school. The fire bell rang and I could tell by my teacher's reaction, this was not a drill. I remember how my legs were shaking and my mother's words came back to me and as I fought to stay calm. It was a small malfunction, and there was no danger.

My parents were always cautious about fire. In our little town, when I was an infant, a mother went next door for a few minutes while her three young children were napping in an upstairs bedroom. There was a smoky fire in her house. There was no organized fire department, just neighbors running to help. There was no running water either, just a bucket brigade. The men saved the house, but the children suffocated from the smoke. My Dad, a young father, had the grim task of carrying out the bodies of these children. It haunted him so that he never had a house where his children had to sleep upstairs.

My heart goes out to the children, families, firemen, policemen, and neighbors who were touched by the OLA fire. The safety features in schools implemented as the result of this tragedy, the teaching opportunities it gave parents and children, and the outpouring of compassion generated are among the legacies.

I'm glad my mother talked to me about what happened and prepared me to take care of myself and others if I needed to in a fire.


Posted by: Valerie Johnston On: 6/29/2003 ID: 96
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Chicago, ILL ( 847 N. Christiana Ave)
It was a very cold day on the first of December, 1958. Besides my wedding day 11 yrs later, this date has the most rememberance for me. My little brother, Robert Charles was 6 & in first grade, l was a second grader(age7).As l know now, l was one of about a hundred kids home that day with the flu going around. My brother always depended on me to get us to school (we lived a mile away)as on time as possible & safely, of course. My room was just to the left, on the first floor, as you went into the school(103).Bobby's room was in the back of the school, on the right, & every morning l walked him back there to make sure he didn't stop someplace along the way. There were lots of mornings we were both home, as it goes, we would be both sick @ the same time. Not this morning.The day went as usual on a sick day, l had 3 younger brothers @ home, with Mom. She was expecting #6. About the time we usually got home from school, l remember my Mother making the comment that Bobby was late. She was in the kitchen fixing our supper. It was a passing comment because when Bobby had to go alone, he would dawdle--window shop, stop @ the neighborhood bakery, whatever. Some time went by after the comment--we had heard many sirens, more than usual & Mom said she wondered where the fire was. About that time, the phone rang--our neighbor was hysterical& Mom barely got what she was telling her. "the school's on fire, the school's on fire !", l heard Mom say.She shut the stove off & said to watch the kids, she grabbed her coat & one of her best friends met her as she went out the door. l had no idea how life would change for everyone. A lot of the details of that day are lost to me, so some of the next few lines are recollections of my Mother. She called Dad to tell him about the fire--I can't say if he had heard of it yet. But, he was a Chicago Police Officer & worked in the district we lived in. He got home before Mom did. Mom & her friend RAN all the way to the school & when she got there, the firefighters were pouring water into the area where my brother's room was. She passed out & does not know how she got home.I remember panic in their voices as they tried to find out where Bobby was. No one knew, the phone lines were jammed, they called everywhere, the hospitals, the morgue --- found out nothing, even with my Dad's CPD connections. He was suppose to go on patrol in the evening, but he had talked to his Commander, & was told to "stay home until you find your boy". I remember a lot of praying went on, & friends stopped by, we had neighbors waiting to hear where their children were too. We lived @ the outer edge of the Parish. The few hours we had to wait until we knew Bobby was OK ; was nothing compared to what some parents went through. But it happened to us. By the time the strange car pulled up in front of our house, my Grandparents had arrived (they lived north of the school & couldn't get through--they had a car).It was about 6:30 pm, Mom says, Bobby got out of the car. He had his coat, hat,mittens & lunchpail. The adults ran out to him, l watched @ the window. Everyone cried--the tears that day were mixed--much pain & much joy. When Bobby came in, he started telling the horrible story of what he had witnessed. The Nun for his class originally thought it was a drill--when there was a "drill" @ the end of the day, we were all instructed to get our winter things & would be dismissed from outside. That's what she had thought, until she opened the door to go out. Bobby said heavy black smoke came into the room, she realized it was not a drill. He said she was stern & gave specific directions--which they knew to follow.They were led away from the school & "deposited" into homes near by, 4-8 @ a time. In the house he was in, the children magnetically graduated to the window. They saw all the people, the firemen, the trucks, kids coming out of the doors, out of the windows, some jumping, some of those with clothing & hair on fire. He "spilled" it all--& we never talked about it again. And Mom could never get the smoke smell out of his coat & things. As for me, OLA/58 has been a mission in my life. One of guilt, pain & some other emotions l have yet to identify.I was not there that dreadful day, but l wish l had been. My little brother wouldn't have gone through all of it alone & maybe ghosts of the fire wouldn't have haunted me all this time. l am now 52 & like my brother, l didn't talk about it. Were told as children, by the school authorities---teachers, priests, Monsignor etc, not to talk about it. Were also told very often, that the kids & nuns that died, died because they were the "good ones".l know for a fact that some kids were living in abusive homes already. So, that only pushed our self esteem down deeper. The only person there that l remember being so kind was Father Joe. He didn't laugh as much as he use to, but he still had time for us kids. As it happened, when arrangements were made for the students to go to Our Lady Help of Christians for half days of school, l refused. We were to catch buses in front of our school & l was afraid that l would see all that my brother had told me he saw & since the building was still there, we would have to look @ it twice a day & on Sundays.(l refused to go to Mass for the same reason) l was told by Mother Superior that l had to confess the number of Masses l missed because l would go to hell if l didn't. When l could finally go, maybe 6 wks or so later, the ghosts were there. l could see them, smell them & the windows were all out, soot & smoke above them. The picture l had in my head was worse, but the picture in front of me wasn't easy to live with. The WORST part of it all is no one was allowed to talk about it. After all, the" good ones" were gone & we couldn't stain their memory. The following school year, 2 of my brothers & l went to Cameron public school. l was in the 4th grade by the time the new school was built. It made the headlines of the Chigo Sun Times on Sept 14, 1960. The reason l know the exact date is, my class was in the paper--Miss Frances Leach was my teacher. When as an adult l started telling my friends, most of them never heard of it. Once in awhile, l would find someone who had heard of it, & not much else. My family moved to Indiana by the time l was 12 (& back to Chgo in 1971, after l was married), so l didn't hear any more about anything. But the ghosts still haunted--l had forgotten many, many things, which is typical of PTSD.(l even began to tremble when l found this website--l couldn't believe it) Then l began to think other people had forgotten & it made me angry that the children & Nuns died, other children's lives had been ruined & some of us just couldn't bear it when the anniversary came around. l felt as if we had ALL been forsaken by our Church & people. l have written to Oprah 3 or 4 times to ask her to do a program, when Geraldo was on daytime, l called him too. But no one responded. l just wanted to know how everyone else was doing. l always thought of the other survivors & prayed for them---especially on the first of December. Then l got a home computer & began to get on the EWTN website. l had asked online if anyone remembered. l asked one of the experts if the children & Nuns would be considered Martyres. NO, he said ---& gave the Catholic reason. l got one response from a lady whose Mother was a substitute teacher--in school that day. Her sincerity was very much appreciated. A few days later, someone mentioned the book " To Sleep With the Angels". l got busy & looked for it---l called several numbers in the Catholic Chicago Diocese---no one could help me find the book. l thought that if l could just see it all in print, l could chase my ghosts away. Finally, a very nice lady in one of the offices told me the "Church" didn't approve the account of the authors, but told me where to find the now out of print book. l was able to get 2---l sent one to my mother & l kept one. They arrived Nov 30, 2001. My brother chose military life, enlisted @ age 17. He served his country with honor & is now retired. He also went to school & is a CNA & has some of his classes done for his LPN. He didn't talk about the fire again until he was in college---he chose to write an essay in literature class. Since then, he & l have briefly talked about it. l asked him once if l could get Oprah's attention for a program, would he go with me. He said, he figures it is all behind us.The morning of 9-11, as l watched the towers burn, firefighters everywhere, medical people waiting for survivors(l am a nurse myself)& seeing the people jumping from almost 100 stories up---l immediately went back to age 7, December l, 1958. l thought of my brother, who was newly retired & called him. We talked for awhile & l didn't mention how l was feeling about OLA--but he brought it up. He said that he was just a kid again & remembering the kids jumping, now seeing it on TV with another horrific event--he said, he didn't see the adults & the WTC, he saw OLA/58 & lots & lots of hurting children. l trembled for days & days. When l finally got my mother's copy of "To Sleep..."to her,(she now lives in WI), we made lot of calls back & forth, talked, cried etc. l began to write notes in my copy & now my best friend has it. l "stopped" being Catholic about age 13 & made an attempt @ returning to the Church 2 yrs ago. For totally unrelated reasons, l did not "get back". l thought it would be a reconcilliation,however, that was not to be.l don't believe that anyone who survives the OLA fire--be it students,parents or the next generations of the families---will ever be free of the ghosts, the heart break & all that goes with it. We had no counselling, & little comfort from our "Church". But, we all still love each other even if we don't know each other, because we have a heart connection like no other. God bless us & keep us in the Right Hand of His Power, forever. AMEN. Valerie Jean (Johnston) Pitts, INDIANA


Posted by: Cheryl Derks On: 6/29/2003 ID: 95
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Council Bluffs Ia
I was only 6 years old at the time of the fire, but I have a vivid memory of that day. My mother was sitting on a hassock in front of our television, looking very sad and crying. At age 6 to see your mom crying gets your attention very quickly. I had asked what was wrong. She told me of the fire and she was so sad for all the mommies and daddies that had children that wouldn't be coming home that evening. She then hugged me close to her for a long time. I remember feeling so sad for all the children and the nuns. I also went to Catholic school from kindergarten thru college and had a wonderful experience throughout. My prayers continue to be with everyone affected by this tragedy and I would like to thank the survivors who have shared their stories.


Posted by: Kevin Roberts On: 6/28/2003 ID: 94
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
The Our Lady of the Angels School Fire is the most tragic and heart wrenching tragedy that I have ever heard of. I first learned about this terrible tragedy about 15 years ago on the Charlie Rose Show. I was so deeply moved at the time that I could not stop weeping. I was born in 1961 and so I was not even born at the time of fire, but am now only a few years younger than the OLA Survivors. Stories like this are difficult to even think about. Early this morning there was a television program with OLA Survivors on it. Again, a rush of emotions and I found myself openly weeping once again. That is the effect that

this terrible event has on me, and I was not directly affected by the fire. I can only imagine the magnitude of grief the families of the victims, the survivors, and those directly impacted have had to endure. One can only imagine the terror and despair that went on in those classrooms on that terrible day. I think of the Nun's who bravely and desperately tried to protect their student's and lost their lives, and I am deeply deeply moved. When thinking about terrible events like the OLA fire I find myself feeling - wishing - there were some way to go back to prevent the terrible event. Then I think of things such as "if only there had been doors at the second floor hallway to stop the rapidly spreading fire", "if only the fire alarm had been sounded earlier", "if only the fire had occured half an hour later". I think of the innocent children who perished in the OLA fire as Angels. I hope that the Survivors and their families, as well as those who lost children and loved ones can find peace and comfort. I will never forget the "Our Lady of Angels" tragedy. No one who has heard this incredibly sad story could forget it. I will pray for those who died that terrible day, and I will pray for those who survived. God Bless the innocent who perished. God Bless You All., Kevin Roberts, Topeka, Kansas.


Posted by: Jay On: 6/26/2003 ID: 93
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Queens , NY
I live about 50 miles north of NYC now. I really didn't remember much about the fire since i was 7 in Dec 1958 and living in NYC until i saw a story on WGN which i get on Directv. They talked to some of people who survived the fire and how the Church in Chicago refuses to help them get counseling because they had to hold in almost 45 years of horror inside. I think that is horrible. No one should have to keep something like that inside themselves. I just would like to let all of the folks who need help dealing with this that i support you and wish you find peace one day. I am almost 52 and i know most of you are at least my age or older and i really feel for you.


Posted by: Lillian Montemayor On: 6/26/2003 ID: 92
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 1709 S. Racine chicago
My name is Lillian at the time i was 8yrs.old and my last name was Baumgardner.I was young but i remember my grandmother and my parents took me to visit some very nice family that were their friends.I was so shocked and hurt to find out their son Aurelius Chiappetta died in the fire i still rememberd going to the funeral and seeing all the pain his parents were in .It was a closed coffin i knew this boy and i can still hear the crying and the sadness and i can still see that beautiful smile he gave me when i met him.MY fathers name was james and my grandmothers name Lillian Baumgardner their both deceased now.My mother is still with us she is 80yrs.old now and i promised her i would try to see ifI wi Adaline i hope i spelled the name right.I just want to express we still remember them in our prayers and to all the loved ones who are in heaven now. I will continue to pray for all the survivers God bless them all.Before i sign off my mothers name is Carmen Baumgardner.Sincerely Lillian Montemayor Email Lillypp@msn.com Thank you.


Posted by: Carol Lloyd Neill On: 6/26/2003 ID: 91
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 1036 N. Lawndale
I learned of this web site last night. My cousin, Dennis Jackowski, who would have been in 7th grade at OLA in 1958, sent me the link. Dennis and his younger sister, Joann, who was 7 at the time of the fire, had moved to New York because their dad was on a year long assignment for Western Electric.

I was in the first class that went all the way through the new school. I started kindergarten at the brand new school in 1960, graduated in 1969, and have class pictures and the dedication book for the new school. I will scan and share them.

I lived at 1036 N Lawndale. I was three at the time of the fire and have extraordinarily vivid memories of the day. I was playing on the living room floor when my mom looked out the window and said, "Look at those crazy kids running down the street without coats - in December!" Then we heard the sirens. Lots of sirens, coming from every direction. The sirens kept coming and coming. I still get chills when I recall the look of absolute horror on my mother's face as she realized what was happening. She clutched her throat and said, "Oh, my God, it's the school." She put a coat on and ran out the front door. She ran as far as Augusta and Hamlin, then stoppped. She was already choking on smoke. Parents and grandparents were screaming and sobbing as they ran toward the school. She turned around and walked back home.

Of course, no block in the neighborhood was untouched. While no one ever talked about it, the reminders were there every day of my childhood. There was a girl who lived on the corner of Augusta and Lawndale who was extensively scarred and only had limited mobility. Mayor Daley had a taxi cab pick her up and take her to and from school every day. I remember being deeply moved when two fire-scarred young adults in the parish were married. Our beloved Monsignor Cussen never fully recovered from the heartbreak and was an empty shell of a man for his remaining years.

I also remember every December 1st of my grade school career. As the end of the school day approached, we were warned by the teachers not to speak to - or even look at - the reporters and TV cameras that were outside the school. It was a classic 1950's way of dealing with grief... ignore it. At that time, our community truly believed it was cruel to run a news story on the anniversary of the fire. I'm not sure if we realized the families who lost children didn't need a news story to remind them of the void in their lives.

After I grew up, and moved out of Chicago, people would complain about being treated poorly at Catholic schools, but I can honestly say that at OLA we were treated with great love and tenderness... perhaps because our teachers knew better than most how fragile life was and how precious little children are.