We were reading at the end of the day when our teacher Miss Herlihy asked if anyone smelled smoke. Just as she said it the fire alarm sounded. Without coats we filed out of the room. Our classroom was on the first floor next to the Iowa Street exit. As we walked through the hall to the door I noticed the children coming from the second floor were running down the stairs and looked really scared. Once outside, our class took its place across the street from the rectory and, as in past fire drills, we turned around to face the school. There I could see dark smoke rising over the school into the sky. Students were still running out the doors. A fire truck that was westbound in front of the church couldn’t get through due to all the cars in the street. I remember seeing a fire fighter getting down from the truck and shouting and directing the cars to get out of the way. This action to a seven year old seemed strange because I thought the siren was enough to get cars and people to move. There were children leaning out the windows of the second floor of the Iowa Street side of the building. These could have been Rooms 201 or 203. A priest was on the sidewalk below looking up and motioning, or talking, to them. Light colored smoke started coming out the windows over their heads. Then the smoke became more dark and dense. Fire fighters placed ladders at the windows, and the children started climbing down. I thought they were very brave because I would have been scared to be that high on a ladder. Fire fighters emerged from the alley between the school and the rectory carrying children, and then they placed them on the lawn of the rectory. Not understanding the gravity of the situation I thought these children had fainted. Then someone covered them with blankets. A priest wearing a purple stole around his neck was leaning over them, anointing and blessing them. Learning of the sacraments in preparation for Communion I knew that was what you did for the sick and dying, and I knew that wasn’t good. Looking toward the convent, which was across the street from the school on the Iowa side, I could see the older nuns standing on the sidewalk with their hands covering their mouths. Some dropped to their knees with hands in prayer; some were just throwing their arms in the air. As an adult I realize now they were in disbelief. As we stood on the sidewalk lots of children without coats started running past us, and, at the time, I couldn’t understand why their faces and shirts were covered with black marks. Smoke and soot will do that. I recall the street starting to get wet from the fire hoses that were everwhere. More people were running toward the school. At some point Miss Herlihy told us to follow her. She started leading us away from the school. I didn't know where we were going. I became scared that I might not know how to get to my home on the 1100 block of N. Monticello from wherever she was taking us. I broke from the line and started running home while hoping I wouldn’t get in trouble for doing that. As I neared Hamlin and Thomas an elderly couple stopped and asked me if school was out. All I could reply was “yes.” I didn’t know how to explain what was happening.
My Mother was at home and heard on the radio that the church was on fire. She decided to meet me so I wouldn’t be scared with all the fire trucks around the church. As she was on her way she saw one of the neighbor girls running home without her coat and shoes. When my Mother asked her what happened she told her the school was on fire. My Mom said she began running toward the school, but tripped and fell. A Police Officer riding a three-wheeler stopped to help her up. He said he was on his way to the school fire. As I ran east on Thomas I will never forget the sight of my Mother running toward me. She scooped me up and wrapped her coat around me. Because I was cold we stopped at a nearby corner store owned by Tony and Maria on the way home. There my Mother told them what was happening. We went into their apartment in the rear of the store and listened to the radio. Someone tried to give me a shot of whisky or something like that, but my Mom told them no. It’s crazy what you remember. While listening we heard that the roof of the school had collapsed. Everyone was upset and began crying. Before we left, Tony loaned me his son Sammy’s coat to wear for the rest of the walk home.
Once home, my Mom answered all phone calls by saying, “She’s home.” During those first few days we learned the names of the neighbor children that were injured or dead. It was difficult for me to understand how a child could die. I couldn’t comprehend that they were in heaven because they were too young. It didn’t make sense that I wouldn’t see them anymore. My parents, like others, went to many many, wakes. Somtime later we were informed that coats had been collected from the school and were available for pick up at Mary Hall. I recall the coats were spread out on tables, and the smell of smoke was overwhelming. We took my coat to DeRosa’s Cleaners on Division. When we arrived a lot of people were already there dropping off their coats, and the cleaners smelled just as smoky as Mary Hall. One day as we walked past the school we could see workmen on the second floor throwing books and other debris out the window. In those days almost every classroom had a piano. It was almost surreal to see parts of a piano, especially the keyboard falling to the ground. The Monday after the fire the students were bussed from OLA to Our Lady Help of Christians School. I find it interesting that this school was doing exactly what its name said, helping others. Help of Christians’ students attended classes in the morning, and we attended in the afternoon. Their students placed their books at one side of the desk so we could have room for ours. My grandparents lived in that parish, and sometimes my grandfather would wait outside so he could wave to me as we arrived or departed. At HOC we were given all new books and book bags. Sandwiches and milk were provided as well, which was something new for us. I think it was after Christmas vacation that we were divided and sent to about four local public schools. I went to Cameron and now had a different teacher, Sister Faustina. Rooms on the third floor of Cameron were used for the OLA students. This relocation separated us from friends and classmates. There had been so much upheaval for fragile children. I recall some poor kids occasionally wetting their pants in class. A sadness truly blanketed the neighborhood. When we met people in the stores, the adults spoke in hushed tones. Several times people would hug me and tell me how lucky I was. I remember being in a store and seeing a neighbor who had lost her daughter. She had a sweet smile, and with tears in her eyes she said she was happy that I was safe. I recall saying thank you, but my adult mind realizes she showed great kindness in the depth of her grief. As a parent and grandmother these stories have become more tragic to me.
My parents both graduated from OLA and had remained in the neighborhood, but chose to move away in April 1959. The first day at my new school included a surprise fire drill. I remember thinking that I should act controlled because just hours before I had just been introduced as a survivor of the Our Lady of the Angels fire. Back then the new school had an incinerator where they burned the refuse in the afternoon. Initially, I was scared to be in school and smell something burning. Although I was assured there wasn’t any danger, I never got used to that smell. I always had someone else light the candles on my daughters' birthday cakes and even owned a home for ten years before I used its fireplace. I always placed a big bucket of water next to it during each infrequent use. My first job was at St. Anne’s Hospital. There I heard many nurses and doctors describe their experiences of that day and the time that followed, but not living in the neighborhood, I never had a chance to speak with any students who were there. I had so many memories, but no one with whom they could be validated. About twenty years after the fire I was fortunate to hear Michele McBride speak about her new book and about fire safety. She was exceptional, and she was my first connection to someone who “was there that day.” Over the years, through my employment, I have met others who attended OLA. Having that one date in common creates a certain level of understanding between strangers.
Thank you to the Friends of OLA for the good work they do and to our Webmaster for creating this forum and being a source of help to many. Peace and Blessings
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