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Our Lady of the Angels (OLA) School Fire, December 1, 1958
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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.
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Posted by: JoAnn Pellettiere Luke On: 3/4/2003 ID: 73
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 12 7 208 Sister St. Canice
At the time of the fire, I was 12 years old and a 7th grade student ... A student in Room 208. The fire claimed 13 victims from 208 ... Sister St. Canice and 12 of my classmates. As fate had it (or I guess I should say it was the will of God) even though I was in school that day, I was not in Room 208 at the time of the fire. As one of the upper-classmen of the school, I was sometimes called on to assist the nuns in the lower grades. Such was my fate on December 1st. I was one of two students who were asked to help a first grade nun with a birthday party.

It was the end of the day ... Around 2:30 ... When Margie Marzullo and I packed up our books and coats, left room 208 and went down those back stairs to a classroom that was located directly beneath 208. It was 2:30 and we went down those same stairs that would carry that horrendous fire a short time later. We helped serve cupcakes and then began to get the first-graders ready to go home. But the fire bell rang instead of the dismissal bell. We thought it was a mistake ... But knew the drill and started filing out of the building. I had my coat but didn't bring books as I thought for sure I would be returning for the 'real' dismissal. We exited on to Avers Avenue through a door that was directly across the street from my Aunt's house. I also lived on Avers ... Just north of the school at 936.

I will never forget what I saw and heard when I reached the street. The blackest smoke I ever saw was pouring from the windows of the second floor ... My classroom being one of the burning rooms. I saw kids jumping and hitting the concrete. I heard those screams for help. People on the ground were frantic, yet helpless. I heard fire engines but they were nowhere to be seen. Students leaving the building were being brought into neighbors' homes. People were bringing out coats and blankets. Parents were arriving to pick up their children as they normally did and frantically began searching for their family. There were attempts at putting ladders together so they could reach the trapped on the second floor. There was a small grocery store on Avers, right by the alley by the school ... The owner Barbara was out in the alley trying to calm the trapped students. I ran down the street to my home and saw my mother leaning out the second-floor window. I remember telling her to call the fire department. I thought about my brother in third grade, my cousins in sixth and eighth, my neighborhood friends, and, of course, my classmates in 208. My family was one of the lucky ones ... It wasn't long before we knew that my brother and cousins had all escaped unharmed.

But it was a chaotic time ... A body at one of the neighboring hospitals had been tentatively identified as mine. My cousin was a nurse there and corrected the error. But not before my mother received the phone call and a newspaper person came to the door to talk about the bad news. My name was on one of the first published victim lists and we actually received telegrams and condolence cards from relatives in California.

The day blurred into the next and the days to follow. While my second-floor window provided some viewing, the papers and television provided the horrific details. I learned of my classmates and Sister St. Canice who had died; my injured neighbors: Jim Krajewski, Mary Brock and Bob Trybalski; my neighbor who died: Raymond Makowski; and what seemed to be an endless list of victims and injured people. Being down the street from the school, I could not escape the constant sight of that destroyed building and could not help reliving the day over and over.

Over the next year I watched the building of the new school and, though I never attended classes there, celebrated its opening. There was no such thing as grief counseling those days. People coped as best they could. But we were a strong neighborhood and a strong parish and we helped one another. I don't remember being stopped from talking about it; at the same time, never really encouraged to do so.

My mother kept a book with news clippings and those condolence cards. I just looked at it for the first time in a long time; and, must admit, even though I never forgot, I have not thought so much about that day for a very long time. I had lived in California for awhile and there was even less there to remind me. As the years passed and I had left the neighborhood, I found fewer and fewer people I felt could really understand what I had experienced that day. Life does go on; but I can never forget ... I still struggle to light a match and still pause at 3 p.m. on December 1st. Can't help but wonder what happened to that first-grade girl who's birthday party brought me out of 208 that day. I look at my fireman brother-in-law Ron and other firemen I know and marveled at what they chose to do for a living long before 9/11. I don't think I ever experienced 'survivor's guilt' but sometimes can't help but wonder why things worked out for me the way they did.

It is nice to have this opportunity to share these experiences and feelings with others. I read my sister-in-law's note (#63)and learned things about her I had never known before.

I guess that just as we won't forget; we also continue to heal.

joann2speak@ameritech.net


Posted by: Reggie Zavon On: 3/4/2003 ID: 72
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 4200 West Division Street
I had attended OLA for catachism classes while I was at Orr Public School. I would have been enrolled at OLA the year of the fire but had been moved to Our Lady of Bethlehem Academy. My best friend Jeannie was at OLA the day of the fire. She was in one of the second floor classrooms and did manage to escape by climbing out of the window and crossing a drain pipe of some sort to safety. I was never allowed to talk to her about that horrible day, so I can't confirm if that is what actually happened to her. A few months later, my family took her with us to the circus. The crowd and noise proved to be too much for her and we left. The next day the toaster in the kitchen was smoking and my poor friend burst into tears and was terrified. I have often wondered what happened to her and if the emotional scars of the fire ever left her.


Posted by: Matt Plovanich On: 2/28/2003 ID: 71
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 10 5 207 Sr. Geraldita
To whoever posted the question about "clergy" abuse by any of the priests assigned to OLA. I served as an altar boy at OLA more times than I care to remember. Many of these times I was alone in the rooms behind the altar of the church with every priest on staff. Never once was there any HINT of improper behavior by any one of them. The were middle class, "down to earth" normal guys. We as a community enjoyed them very much. My answer to you is NEVER!


Posted by: clergy abuse On: 2/28/2003 ID: 70
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Chicago
(This item has been removed because it is not a personal story, recollection or opinion about the Our Lady of the Angels school fire, and is therefore inappropriate for this area - webmaster)


Posted by: Nichalus Rizzo On: 2/20/2003 ID: 69
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 5541 S. Carpenter, Chicago
At the beginning of the school year in 1958 we still lived at 1047 N. Christiana and I was enrolled in Sister Mary Seraphica's room 210 as a forth grader. Two weeks before the fire, we moved to the south side because my parents bought a three flat from my grandparents who retired and moved to Cicero. I had many friends that died in the fire and many that were hurt. My girlfriend? Aurelia Abbatello was burned vary badly in the fire. I remember seeing an article in the newspaper almost a year and a half after the fire in which she was with actor Pat O’Brien on the occasion of her being the last victim leaving the hospital after the fire. Years later my sister met her downtown where she was working for an employment agency. Recognizing her name, my sister found out she has since married a fireman. Chuck, the boy that lived next door to me jumped out of the window and broke his leg and hip. Nancy the 8th grader who lived down the block was able to hang jump out of the window, she was fine. Steve, my friend from across the street, did not make it home that day, neither did Victor. The fire had more of an effect on my parents than it did on my sister and me at the time, probably because they better understood how close we came not to mention that my father had been a fireman. Over the years, I have slowly realized just how fortunate I have been in so many ways. Now that I am able, I plan on starting a foundation in memory of the victims at OLA and I hope to raise enough money to build an appropriate monument to be placed at the Childs burn unit in Loyola Medical center in Maywood.

Zyzzynr@netzero.net


Posted by: SandyD On: 2/19/2003 ID: 68
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 510 N. Monticello
I was 7 years old at that time of the fire...I went to Ryerson,I had friends that lived by me on monticello, I lived at 510 N. Monticello at the time...I forward the rest to friends I still keep in touch with from back in the 60's about this site...& reports, now 40 something years later we are talking about it....

after reading the stories I too realize I had good friends that went to this school, OLA, they NEVER talked about it !!! I have a friend her name was DeeDee Della, her brother Frank, was burned over a good part of his body,I do remember hearing he jumped from the second floor. I saw a few scars that couldn't be covered up by his shirt or pants, but they NEVER talked about it !!!

We came from of time I guess we were told to be seen and not heard, what is a child that couldn't speak all these years have to endure, with prayer and talk sometimes heals but if we are forced to act as if nothing happened how much suffering you had....now I realize what you had to be going through....I will never be able to know...only you do...but I will say, we are here for you...maybe with the chats, we will never erase your hurt but we can help the healing process....please email me anytime....if anyone knows where DeeDee or her brother Frank Della is please let then know I would love to hear from them....Bless you all...Love Sandy


Posted by: Joanne Pettenon Peele On: 2/17/2003 ID: 67
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 12 7 201? ?
My name is Joanne Pettenon Peele now and on December 1, 1958 I was in seventh grade. My classroom was in the south wing of the school on the second floor. We were having a singing class and realized that the children across the court were hanging out of their windows waiving and screeming that the school was on fire. We immediately lined up in single file and headed for the smoke filled corridor and made our way down the staircase to the front entrance. Once we were out, I remember frantically looking for my sister, my brother, and my cousins Janice and George Pomilia. I did not see any of my family members at that time and I will never forget how I felt at that moment. On my way home after stopping at my godmother’s house on Lawndale & Iowa I ran into my mother and my aunt who were Christmas shopping that day. My mother was nine months pregnant. They went to the school looking for the other children and came home with no one. My brother, John Pettenon and cousin Janice Pomilia were at a relative who lived on Trumbull Ave. where we all lived, who also had children in the school, The Bertucci’s. Mary Ellen and George were still missing. Later on that evening our house was filled with relatives from all over Chicago and my mother started having labor pains. I will never forget my father, who in those days did not have a radio in his car, came home from his construction job to hear that his Mary Ellen was missing. My cousin George was found in Walter Memorial Hospital with a broken leg from his jump from his classroom window. He was in fifth grade. My father then had to take my mother to the hospital knowing that we had not found my sister. Later on that evening Mr. Pawlik from across the street who was the father of my best friend Eileen Pawlik came over to tell us that she was gone…he found her at the morgue. The next day my uncle Joe went to the morgue and found my sister, Mary Ellen Pettenon. He was the only one that saw her after the fire.

My poor parents were at the hospital waiting for a baby when our family doctor went to tell them about Mary Ellen. My mother’s labor had stopped and she was able to return home for the funeral arrangements and services. The day after the funeral she gave birth to a new baby girl and named her Marilyn. Needless to say, having a new baby in the house was a blessing. There is nothing like the comfort you get from a new born baby. It really helped all of us especially my mother. Marilyn has three children and just became a grandmother for the first time to a beautiful baby boy.

Going through all of this at the age of twelve, I thought that our life was over and that we would never have happy times again, but we all know that life goes on and you learn to endure. I admire my parents more than they know and I will never forget how they continued to be the wonderful parents that they are during the most difficult time of their life. To this day, my mom and dad are always there for us and our children.

I have been blessed with three wonderful children, Laura, Lisa, and Jimmy and five grandchildren. I know the love that a parent has for their children , but no one knows what it is like to lose a child unless you actually go through it. Some families lost more than one child in the fire.

In closing, I would like to say that I have read so much about what happened that day, other experiences that were shared, and the days that followed, I am surprised to hear the number of people that did not discuss the fire. My family did talk about the fire and I have through my entire life at least once a month, it comes up. It has been very frustrating for me since I have read part of the book “To Sleep With The Angels”. I read up to the chapter that was focused on my sister’s room 210 and couldn’t go on. I believe that all of the children could have been led out of the building if the adults that first became aware of the smoke acted immediately in the proper manner. I don’t understand why so much time had to pass before help was on it’s way. It was plain supidity as far as I am concerned. I was aware that the church and the city politians wanted this kept quiet for their own selfish reasons. I remember that not even a month had gone by and no one was talking about the fire. Again, I was only twelve years old, and I questioned why.

When someone would ask me where I grew up, or where did I go to school, or how many brothers and sisters do I have, I include my sister Mary Ellen. We I miss her very much and wish that she could have lived to experience being a mother and a grandmother like I have. She will never be forgotten. I have shared everything about Mary Ellen and the fire with my children and they will with theirs.


Posted by: taco On: 2/15/2003 ID: 66
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 4936wcortez
i was a first grader at our lady help of christians home sick with chicken pox. the phone rang about 2:50 pm it was my dad a pbx installer with il bell he had a large phone strapped to his tool belt he would climb poles and tap into phone lines during his repairs and often to our house,we had a party line and frequently he would call home to check on mom and thhe 5 of us. but on this day he tapped into a telephone line that went to a fire box in the area of ola. the phone call to my mother was different that day i was suppose to be napping but heard the phone ring,, thhe look on my mothers face is one i will never forget,then the tears flowed.. she ran to the tv and saw it unfold. thhe day seems like last week. we lived behiind st annes hospital,frequently we would attend mass there if the weather was bad.

i diid not see my father for 5 days,he would come home to clean up and have something too eat. i would hear my parents talking about the fire and the rising toll. my father was instrumenntal in adding new phone lines and service for the police fiiremen reporters and city editors. in those days there was only 1 phone on each floor of the hospital. my dad was a medic in ww2 and helped with the triaging of victims families and those in need. he attended many wakes and funerals for the victims. my uncle owned burke-sullivan funeral home on chicago ave. many of thhese families were assised with the costs by my dear uncle john sullivan. many of the children came to hoc after thhe fire, they were my classmates. i ppray dailly for these victims. may good bless you all. one day we will meet in heaven,till then terry o'connor janisch

taco71152@yahoo.com


Posted by: Angela Taglia Wehrs On: 2/15/2003 ID: 65
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 10 5 105
My sister, in Rm 201, brother in RM 101 and I in 105 survived that terrible day. I remember everything as though it were yesterday. I walked out the front door and found my sister an hour later but only after the priests had asked us to leave the church where we went for safety and comfort, because we were dirty, soiled and we should go home. A number of us then went to the convent where the nuns told us to leave cause we were dirty, soiled and we should go home. Some of the kids with me were burned, soaked to the skin, cold, in shock, and as scared as I was. But we did as we were told and returned to the street because that's what good Catholic girls and boys did to obey.

I found my sister and brother, but lost my best friend Joanne Chiappetta and many others. I remember as did many of us, that we weren't encouraged to talk about it, didn't get counseling, and no one ever discussed how it happened, who was responsible. The boy who was suspected of starting the fire was in my room, and everyone I talk to says the whole school knew he was a prime suspect, but as always it was squelched. I sympathize with all the abused children who are now the subject of controversy in the church concerning molesting priests. The Roman Catholic church seems to have a blind spot when it comes to convicting or accusing their own. How sad, and how unfortunate for the victims of the atrocities.

I remember that when we went to Hay school while the new OLA was being built we weren't allowed to talk to the PUBLICS. Kids just like us, whose parents and teachers and administrators had given up the entire top floor of their buildings were still considered lepers, pagans, and we couldn't associate with or talk to them. I wonder now how diffently all of this would have been handled...counselors, therapists, investigations, litigations, and answers.

God knows we probably benefitted from all this in ways we can't measure, and I'm sure I'm stronger and a better person for having lived through it, but I wouldn't wish it on another human being. I thank God for my and my sibling's survival and regret that so many died for no reason except negligence, ignorance and stupidity.


Posted by: Betti Wasek (Marino) On: 2/14/2003 ID: 64
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 7 2 104 Miss Herlihy (Garrett)
December 1 started like any other cold winter day. I recall having gone home for lunch that day and telling my mother that I didn't feel well and wanted to stay home. I also told her that I smelled smoke that morning. As I look back on it now it had to be garbage burning outside. No matter what, I was sent back to school after lunch. I don't remember much about that afternoon except about 2:30 I had asked my teacher, Miss Herlihy, if I could go to the washroom. She had asked if I could wait until I went home because school would be out soon. I could not and relunctantly she allowed me to go and sent me with another little girl. The washroom was located towards the back of the school and my room, 104 was in the front of the school. While in the bathroom we heard the fire alarm and wondered if someone had made a mistake and rang the wrong bell. The washroom filled with smoke not long after we heard the fire alarm. It was apparent it was no mistake. We ran out and all I could think of was my cousin Joey who was in 2nd grade too and that I wanted to find him. The one memory that haunts me to this day is that as I ran from room to room looking for him I saw a classroom full of children sitting in their desks like little soldiers and the sister stood in front and prayed the rosary. (The doors of the classrooms had windows in them). For a long time I thought I had imagined it but other kids had the same recollection as I did. I wondered why they were not running out of the smoke filled school. I never did find my cousin. I ran back to my room and tried to get my coat out of the cloak room but I was pushed out the front door without it into a line of kids filing into the church. There was so much confusion and then as he did everyday, my grandfather appeared. He tried to take me out of the line and the sister would not let me go. He told her..."I see her and I am taking her" and he put his overcoat and scarf on me and we went to where my little brother, Michael was told to stand until we got back and we went home. My grandmother and my pregnant mother were standing on our front porch, crying and watching the smoke, listening to the sirens and when we pulled up and my grandfather carried me out of the car, they thought I was burned or hurt. Luckily I was not physically injured. The mental scars would last a life time. My cousin was missing until midnight but was later found safe and sound in the homes along Avers Ave. His mom was pregnant too and both our moms gave birth 2 weeks later, earlier than they should have.

The days and weeks to follow were filled with so much sadness. Our neighborhood would never ever be the same. We lived at 631 N. Avers which was 3 blocks south of the school. Everyone knew everyone and relatives lived either next door, across the street or even in the same building. On any summer evening you would see families sitting outside on their porches waiting for the peanut man with his cart or the man with horse and carriage giving the kids a ride around the block for ten cents a ride. You could walk down Chicago Ave. and get an Italian lemonade or cookies from Ancona's bakery...all of that was gone. The sights and sounds were replaced with an eerie quiet and family and friends eventually moved away. On our street alone, the Sarno and Mele families lost children. We were never allowed to talk about what had happened. We could not watch anything on TV that had to do with the fire. Radios were turned off. Newspapers were thrown away. It was almost as if people thought if we didn't talk about it anymore, it would go away. It did not and never will.

I was bussed to John Hay and then eventually to Our Lady Help of Christians. None of us wanted to sit near the windows and really got pretty shook up when we had fire drills. We eventually went to the new OLA. I was in the 4th grade. By the 5th grade our family had moved and I finished my grade school days at HOC with my brother Michael.

I followed on my own in the newspaper when the fire was mentioned over the years. I remember when I was 16 working in the Jewel, Irene and her husband Gerry came to my check out counter and I was so excited. It was like seeing celebrities. I had cut out their wedding picture from the newspaper and was so happy for them. (They probably don't remember that). Irene's sister, Monica was one of my playmates and we were in the same grade.

Every December 1st was difficult for me. The news media would have a story every year. I would see it and cry and wonder when they would just let it go and let us heal. Even going to Queen of Heaven Cemetary to visit family gravesites it seemed the car would just steer itself to the OLA section. Over the years I bought Michelle McBride's book, The Fire that will not die and I just could not bring myself to read it and never have.

I am now married with 2 grown children and 3 granddaughters. Two of them are 7, the same age I was at the time of the fire. I look at them and see myself at that age and having gone through this horrible thing. We had no councelling, no one to talk to or anyone (even a relative) that would even listen. I now find comfort in knowing that if anything ever happened, (God forbid) my grandchildren would have professionals that would be sent to the schools immediately that they could talk to. My brother, Michael became a fireman and is now the Deputy Fire Chief in Elmwood Park. I am very proud of his accomplishemnts and he has gone to all the schools in his area to tell of that fateful day and why fire safety is so extremely important. He had asked me a few years ago if I would like to go to the Our Lady of the Angels Anniversary Mass and I did and I was so overwhelmed when I went back to the neighborhood and to the church. The Mass for me was the funeral I was never allowed to attend. I cried as each name was read and each candle was lit. We were invited to take a candle home and I took home the candle that said "survivors" on it and I cherish it and light it every year for both those lost and those of us that survived. I have since read "To Sleep with the Angels" and could not put it down. It was very well written. We went to every Mass after that until the statue was dedicated. That was the year my mother asked why Michael and I never invited her to go. I don't think either of us thought she would want to. We did take her and I walked with her around the church before the Mass and I know a million memories must have flooded back to her. She was married there, we were all baptized there and made our First Holy Communion there. This parish meant so much to so many people that for the longest time tried to forget everything about it. After the Mass, the Memorial was dedicated in the school vestibule. We went inside, walked around and we even bought a few more copies of the book "To Sleep with the Angels". The next morning my mother suffered a paralyzing stroke. She told me she was very upset and stayed up late looking at the book. From that moment on December 1 took on a new meaning and I had wondered if she would have had the stroke even if she didn't go to the Mass. I guess it was God's way of giving me something else to be concerned about and to try and put the fire back in the past.

I watched the Channel 11 story twice. I thought it was a well told story. I was taken by Charlene's story (I don't think I could have been that brave) and by the gal (I am sorry I have forgotten her name)that said she was told that "we were not good enough to go to heaven that day" and a lot of kids lived with that feeling of "not being good enough..." all these years. I believe things happen for a reason. Our school was named Our Lady of the Angels. Angels are exactly what went to heaven that day. I wish it hadn't been in such a horrific way but that is how it happened. God needed those "angels". WE on the other hand WERE good enough to go...it was just not our time to go. He had other plans for us. Maybe some of us became doctors and saved a life. Maybe some of us fought for our country, maybe some of us are still doing whatever it is we were put on this earth to do. I wish all that perished would have had those same opportunities but it was God's will and we will never know until we are all together someday in Heaven. I am not extremely religious but that is just what I believe. I think the special awakened a lot of memories for a lot of people. It gave my children a better understanding of what happened that day and why my heart breaks every December 1. No matter how old we were that day...we will never forget. I am so sorry to those who lost children.

I had always hoped Father Joe would be at the Masses or even say the Mass. It would have been a comfort to me to see him. I have met so many people over the years that were in the fire and some of them are very close friends. It is a bond, no matter how young or old we were at the time, will hold us together forever.

Thank you Channel 11 for telling our story and allowing me this time to tell mine.

Betti Marino Wasek