I was ten years old in 1958, and attended a Catholic grade school in Emery, South Dakota. Our school, also, was an accident waiting to happen. Fortunately, one of the good things that came out of the fire in Chicago was that our teachers and parents became more aware of the danger of fire in old wooden and brick school houses. Before the fire the first and second grade students were taught on the third floor, with just an old battered round-tubed fire escape, but after this tragic fire, these students were moved to the first floor into the chapel. The nuns were willing to give up their beautiful chapel in order to keep the children safe. I also remember that we had many fire drills after that time, and we prayed for those who lost their lives. Personally, this fire scared me tremendously as we lived in an old farm house that I was SURE was going to burn up at any time. (It still survives today, however.) I remember sitting next to my mother in an evening with my favorite doll and a few other favorite things in my hands, waiting for someone to yell "fire." I know I would have been out the door in 2 seconds flat if that would have happened. My mother did her best to reassure me that there would be no fire. However, to this day, fire is my greatest fear. Janet Wendt
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