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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: real On: 2/8/2006 ID: 253
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
When I was in 7th grade in 1982 one of the nun's at our school told us about a fire at a Catholic school in Chicago and how a number of students and teachers died in that fire. She noted it was at the end of the school day and not everyone took it seriously.

We had just came in from our own fire drill and as usual, not everyone took the drill seriously. Sister laced into us with the story. We figured she made it up trying to scare us.

When I went to college I was doing research on fires at my own college. In an article there was a mention of the OLA fire. It was real.

Being pre-internet, I wasn't able to come up with much, but it always stuck in my mind. Learned more about it years later.

I was doing some research today for work on another subject and in "googling" my topic I stumbled upon this site. I spent most of the morning just reading about the survivors and not doing my paid work and cried.

This is something I will bookmark and when my daughter gets into school she will certaily see this site and learn to take fire drills seriously.


Posted by: Jane On: 1/31/2006 ID: 252
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before New Orleans, LA
I can't tell you how moved I am to find this site and discover that there are so many others, like me, for whom the OLA fire was an indelible milestone in growing up. It doesn't seem to matter how many miles separated us from the events. If you were a kid, and especially a kid in Catholic school, the OLA fire was your experience, your most unspoken nightmare. I don't think there was a Catholic student in the country whose faith in the adults in their lives and the mysteries of the church went unscathed.

I will be 60 years old this year, and the horror remains as fresh as yesterday. At the time, I was 12 years old, and so riveted by the story and its relationship to my personal and spiritual safety that I did not think about its relationship to physical events in my own life. That has come forward over the years, as I think about my parents and the lives they lived. My mother was an unquestioning follower of the Faith but very much a human being and one with many sad moments and horrors in her own life. In my early years she was stretched beyond her capabilities, trying to manage two kids while my father was away. One day she was interrupted at the endless task of ironing a stack of washed, starched, and dampened clothes, by a knock on the door. She went to the front of the house,leaving me, at age 4, playing in the kitchen. I decided to go after one of my dolls, which was beyond the ironing board. I retrieved it carefully, but on the way back, I raised my head a moment too soon and knocked the iron over and off the board. Irons today, which are used primarily on permanent press fabrics, are nothing like the heavy, red-hot irons of the 40s and 50s, which had to flatten the creases in heavy cotton fabrics. The iron paused on my shoulder and slid all the way down my arm, stopping at the elbow to cause a 3rd degree burn and then continued down the forearm.

I can remember my screams, I can remember the awful jolt of adrenaline, shock, and fear that preceded the screams, but my mind recoils at what it felt like to have that hot iron gliding down my arm. I had second and third degree burns that were treated and put in a cast for weeks. As the skin began to heal, the burning returned, with itching that was maddening. I remember jumping and jumping on my mother's bed, hoping that I could get high enough to escape that itching and pain. I cried for hours, begging her to scratch the cast, which she did with a distant look on her face--retreating, I'm sure, from the guilt she must have felt.

Knowing this, I can't think about those children at OLA without outrage at the pain so many went through. I am sickened by the silence and lack of unaccountability in the Clergy's corner, all these years.

Incredibly, just 10 years ago, believing I was the only one who felt these things, I attended a poetry reading by a colleague and was stunned to hear a searing poem about a little girl in a school fire who walked out, saving herself, and how she felt about it. Since this colleague is my age, I know in my heart where she drew that painful image.

I hope what all this means,in the end, is that the children who died have been kept alive in the minds of so many. I hope that it brings some comfort to their parents and families, and to the people who tried to save them. I am so grateful for the book that retold the story and for this site.


Posted by: Shane Flynn On: 1/25/2006 ID: 251
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
I am doing a History Fair project on the Our Lady of The Angels School Fire. I would love to hear from some of the students who were lucky enough to survive that day. Any remembrances, feelings, etc... that you would care to share would be greatly appreciated! I need information/feedback by 1/29/06. Thank You!

Shane Flynn
Chicago, IL


Posted by: BarbaraElizabeth On: 1/16/2006 ID: 250
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Park Ridge, Illinois

I was a third-grader at Mary, Seat of Wisdom in Park Ridge. In those days -- at least for an 8-year-old -- it felt like the Catholic church was a huge, strict, enfolding home, a place where life was structured, clear and very safe. I could picture my future: from Mary, Seat of Wisdom, on to Marywood high school, to Loyola or some other Catholic college and so to Catholic marriage and the raising of my own Catholic family: secure, decent, surrounded by the church hierarchy.
But the fire at Our Lady of Angels was one of the first events to shake my tidy view of the good Catholic life. My teacher, her voice raised, told us story after story from the fire. The children who tumbled, flaming, to the ground. The ones suffocated at their desks. The nuns who futilely tried to shield them and who perished with their charges. I can still see, in my mind's eye, the pictures I formed: of burnt children my age, of children falling, hair on fire.
We prayed for weeks, into spring, and heard stories and stories.
It's so typical of the times, of the 50's and early 60's, that the bereaved families didn't sue, didn't organize to pressure the city to uncover the cause or arrest the arsonist. Instead, they fell apart, for a time or for the rest of their lives, perhaps after being told by priestly counselors to accept God's will.
I'm glad that, after all these decades, there is a book and a documentary and this website. That fire and the subsequent shushing up have left many of us, even far on the periphery, haunted.


Posted by: Theresa Page On: 1/11/2006 ID: 249
Enrolled on 12/1/58? Present on 12/1/58? Injured? Age Grade Classroom Teacher
Yes Yes No 12 7 202 don't remember
I was in 7th grade when the fire occured. My classroom was on the
second floor near the stairway. The room was beginning to fill with
smoke heavily and also in the hallway.
The smoke was so heavy you could not see ahead of yourself, I reached
for someone to walk with and felt another hand of someone that I was
able to grab onto and make our way out to the hallway and down the
staircase. I was able to make it outside of the school, thankfully.
I started to walk home to Hamlin Ave where I lived. My mother was home at the time.
I had two other cousins that attented the school, and also survived.
I am very thankful to have made it out of this tragedy alive, as you never forget this.


Posted by: rgilbert On: 1/10/2006 ID: 248
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before 927 N. Central Park, Chicago, IL
I was 12 years old and a student at Ryerson School. I attended OlA on Wednesdays for CCD. Public School students would leave school early and walk to OLA for classes. I believe the OLA students would leave early on Wednesday. Mary Ellen Moretti was a classmate that I befriended that sat next to me. She was awaiting to be transferred to OLA when they had room for her. One day upon leaving school she asked me to show her the way home as she was new to the school and neighborhood. I will never forget her. One day arriving at school Mary Ellen was not there and I asked the teacher about where she was and was told that she transferred to OLA as they had room for her. It was a matter of days later (or may have been weeks, I don't remember exactly)that I was leaving Ryerson school approx 3 p.m at the end of the day and as we students walked down the stairs and out the building of the school the word was reaching us by mouth that OLA was on fire and the news carried on up the stairway in disbelief. I remember to this day seeing Mary Ellen picture in the newspaper as one of the victims. I believe this was my first introduction to death and I have never forgotten it. My life was in turmoil at the time and I believe the sadness and that I felt from Mary Ellen drew us together at that time in our lives. OLA is where I had made my first communion and confirmation. I left Chicago in Spring of 1959 for the suburbs but I will never forget the 4 years spent in Chicago and attending OLA for CCD.


Posted by: Cindi K On: 1/7/2006 ID: 247
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No After n/a
For years as a youth growing up in Elgin, IL; I had heard stories about this fire but didn't really know a lot about it until the day of December 1, 1998 when I had had a really bad day at work and I was feeling sorry for myself because I had taken this new job and was feeling a lot of pressure and feeling very sorry for myself. I was driving on my lunch break looking for somewhere to go when I heard that it was the 40 year anniversary of the OLA fire. When they mentioned on the news blip how many people were killed and the details of the fire, I pulled over and I realized that my problems were inconsequential and that I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. That night after work, I picked up my daughter and we tried to make it to OLA for the remembrance service that they had but we got lost and found it after the mass had ended. Outside the church and school, we looked around and had a thoughtful moment about the victims. Since then, I have read much about the fire and I always remember the victims and their families in my prayers. And even though I didn't know anyone who died in the fire, the memory of it served to bring me back to life and show me what is most important. God Bless the victims, family, friends and anyone who was part of assisting the victims and the children. God Bless all of you...always.


Posted by: Lucy Matkey Darling On: 1/6/2006 ID: 246
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Milwaukee, Wisc
Sister Helaine who I understand was in the awful fire was my 7th & 8th grade teacher in 1960 & 1961 at Gesu School in Milwaukee, WI. I was talking to my granddaughter the other nite and somehow the subject came up. I still remember hearing about the fire in 1958. We were astounded as children to have our teacher be one of the people who had been in the fire. In the process of trying to find out more about that time I came across your site. I went through every letter to see if there was any mention of Sister Helaine but found none. She was a hard task master but we learned so much from her. From what I have heard Sister Helaine has passed away. My prayers are with all who survived and their familes.


Posted by: Bob Kressin On: 1/2/2006 ID: 245
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No Before Watertown, WI
Approximately two years ago I saw the WTTW documentary "To Sleep With The Angels." While knowing little about this event, I was stunned by what I saw and learned.I had heard about the fire several years ago, when I attended a Catholic elementary school in Watertown, WI in the early to mid 1960's. The nuns at my school, Sisters of St. Agnes, spoke about the fire in Chicago that took the lives of so many children and nuns. My school consisted of "the old school", a building of similar construction to OLA, brick exterior and wood interior, and a "new school" built next to it after 1960, all of cinder block and no wood whatsoever. I recall fire drills several times a year.When I saw the documentary I was gripped by the story and agrieved by the loss of life. Recently, I was at a bookstore where I was looking in the "Chicago" section and the book "To Sleep With the Angels" stared me in the face from the bookshelf. I did not hesitate and bought it. I finished it today. A number of times I had to put the book down, as tears came to my eyes. In fact, as I live only a mile away, I recently visited Queen of Heaven to see the memorial and spent time silently reading the names of those who lost their lives. In addition, I went to the neighborhood of Our Lady of the Angels. Finally, I have discovered that one of the survivors of the north wing 2nd floor classrooms is a fellow employee. These experiences have brought home with stunning and shocking clarity this tragic event. No longer is it people "out there" but "real" people whose lives are affected . . . now.This note, in an extremely small way, is my way of paying respect to the people impacted by this tragedy and to say that I am with you. Pax.


Posted by: Dan Lupo On: 12/1/2005 ID: 244
At OLA on 12/1/58? Born before or after 12/1/58? Where Lived on 12/1/58?
No

Today is Dec. 1, 2005.

Forty-seven years ago, I was born within hours of Aunt Joanie's death. While my mom, Aunt Joanie's big sister Margaret, was in St. Elizabeth's Hospital giving birth to me, my dad heard the news on the radio in the waiting room.

My dad asked the doctor if he thought it would be ok to tell my mom of the tragic news of the fire (he still didn't know whether my aunt and two uncles were ok). The doctor told him not to tell my mom, who was weak and had lost a lot of blood delivering me.

My dad asked my mom's hospital room-mate, who had received a new radio for her room, if she could please not play the radio for a while, so that my mom would not learn of fire.

Then my dad and my uncle Ernie went to the school to look for the kids. They couldn't even get close to the scene, but were told to go to Cook County Morgue. They went but could not identify any kids. They went to St. Anne's; same outcome. They went back home and decided to try again later.

This time, my Aunt Rosemary, my favorite aunt, went with them and did ID Aunt Joanie at Cook County by a locket my mom and dad had given her.

Growing up, I was never aware of the bittersweet nature of my birthday. As far as I knew, my birthday was my birthday, and that was that. All the grief of that day never clouded my birthday celebrations. It was only until I was older that I learned about Dec. 1st being not only my birthday, but also the day my aunt perished.

I am amazed, and grateful, that my mom and dad, and extended family could hide so well their pain and sadness from me all those years.

In our house as I gew up there was a picture of Aunt Joanie and her siblings -- a painting. In that picture, Aunt Joanie had brown hair, and big brown almost sad eyes; and her smile was weak, forced, almost as if she were unaccustomed to smiling.

- - - - - - -

In late fall of 2001, I had reached a deep low in my life: things were not going well, and most of the mess was of my making. Like the twin towers in NYC, my life had come crumbling down around me.

My wife suggested we attend a reconciliation service in St. Thomas More church in Austin, TX. When the priest asked us to kneel to review our conscience before confessing our sins, I looked inside myself and saw nothing. Only blackness. Utter emptiness. Alone, afraid, helpless, despairing, I did the only thing I could do: I prayed.

And I prayed naked before God, utterly without pretense, and asked His help in turning my life around, to use my talents to bring good to the world. I told God I was tired of trying to fix things: I had tried and had screwed things up, and I pleaded with him to take over my life and transform it. I surrendered to His will.

When I opened my eyes and stood up, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked and a little girl sat sideways, looking directly at me. The girl looked exactly like Aunt Joanie, from the portrait I remembered hanging in our house as I was growing up.

Her likeness was so amazingly similar that I was moved to tell my wife; I whispered, "Look at that little girl; she looks exactly like my Aunt who died the day I was born."

As I heard myself say these words, a thought came to me: "Maybe this _IS_ my aunt. Maybe she is my guardian angel. Maybe God is responding to my prayers by revealing His presence in my life through my guardian angel. He is trying to tell me that, yes, indeed He will help me. That He's been helping me all along via my guardian angel, my Aunt Joanie."

Although I was amazed at this revelation, I was not fearful or upset or disbelieving. On the contrary, it felt real, true. I knew to the core of my being that this experience was of God.

On the drive home, I struggle to articulate to my wife what I was feeling. The next day, when I shared my experience with my parents on the phone, they both mused, "sure, we always thought that Joanie was your guardian angel."

Over the next 4 years, my life has been turned completely around. I have been led on a journey of discovering the truth of God's mercy and love. Situations have arisen, people have come into my life, opportunities have opened up . . . and I have been swept up into the flow of love that courses through life.

The eyes of my heart have been opened to allow me to see that love is everywhere, and most especially in relationships; and love is as easily accessible as a kind word or gesture to another human being. We all possess it, we all have access to it, and we all are called to give it away because there is a limitless reservoir from which it comes.

Pray. Love. Serve. Repeat.

This is the motto by which I now live my life. Pray to establish and deepen your relationship with God. In that deepened relationship, God fills our hearts with His love. His love overflows, and we are called to give it away in service, doing for others as we would have others do for us. In service, we are given the grace to spread his love. In gratitude for this grace, we return to praise God in prayer . . . and the cycle starts over again.

In January 2006, I will be starting the Deacon Formation Program in the Diocese of Austin. I have been and will continue to touch many lives, and Aunt Joanne will continue to guide me.

Although she may have died in the OLA fire, Aunt Joanie was transformed and became my guardian angel; and her blessed innocense lives on, in my life, and touches all who I encounter.

Thank you, Aunt Joanie, for surrendering your life, so that mine might be used to do good, to spread love, to do God's will. Amen.