"I was at the box office with the intention of purchasing tickets for the night; I went to the box office about 3:30 p. m., and when I went in there were three or four others ahead of me. Suddenly I heard some commotion on the inside and several persons rushed out, and there must have been as many as five or six, I guess, got out, and then I heard a woman cry 'Fire.' Up to that time I did not think it was anything serious. I thought probably it was a scare and I looked in through the door and I saw more coming—rushing—and I rushed over to hold the doors open, and did so for a length of time until quite a number got out, and I noticed several going to the door next to it; that is, the last door west; and then came over to this other door.
"They tried to push it open. I left where I was and went to that door and tried to force it open and could not. I saw between the two doors a bolt or a bar, and there was quite a number coming out the other door then and I saw there was no chance to come out, and I tried to open the other door opposite that leading into the street, and that door was in the same condition, locked or bolted; it was fastened; I could not get out of that door and I could not get in the other. Then there were quite a number coming out, and I noticed several men, and by that time I could see smoke, a little haze of smoke, and every one coming out seemed to be frightened, crazy-like, and so I got out myself into the street. The fire department had not yet arrived."
BLOWN INTO THE ALLEY.
Mrs. James D. Pinedo, 478 North Hoyne avenue, Chicago:
"I reached the theater to attend the fatal matinee late, about 2:25 o'clock. The performance was in progress and we could not secure seats, so we got standing room tickets and entered. When I reached the extreme right of the theater the people were only standing one deep. There was a space there where I could see the stage, especially the left part of the stage where the sparks started, and the curtain had just rung up for the second act, a few minutes after the chorus was singing, when I saw a man using his hands trying to put out the sparks. When I saw those few sparks I quietly turned around to see if there was any fire escape or exit on that floor in case there should be a fire, and I didn't move because I was afraid of precipitating a panic. I simply turned my head and I saw what I supposed was an exit. I couldn't tell.
"I saw drapery and naturally supposed, being a theater-goer, that it masked an exit. I turned back to the stage then, and in the meantime these sparks had changed into flames, and I put on my rubbers—I was very calm at the time—and I got ready to move out. Eddie Foy told us to be perfectly quiet and avoid a panic, and there were also some men and women in the back part of the audience who also told the people to sit down. I have never seen an audience who were saner than these women and children. They sat perfectly still I should say for at least two minutes, while those sparks changed into flames. They were perfectly calm. I think most of these women realized there were little children there. The audience was nearly packed full of children.
"Then I saw the big ball of flame come out from the stage and fall in the auditorium of the theater on the heads of those in front, and I thought, 'Now is the time to get out.' I walked quietly to what I thought was an exit, and there was a little man there before me, who had torn aside the drapery, and I saw an iron door or doors heavily bolted, and we couldn't get them open. It was bolted and I heard this man ask the usher to please unlock the door, and he refused. The usher was standing there and we were frantically, of course, trying to get the door open, but it would not open, and I judge we were standing at least two minutes, probably a minute and a half—time that seemed long enough in a case like that.
"Finally the man induced this usher to try and open the door. At least they were trying to, the two of them, and I was right behind them—trying to open that door—when all of a sudden there was a rush of wind. I thought at the time it was an explosion, because I didn't know of any force powerful enough to open those iron doors, and those iron doors blew open, and blew us into the alley. Of course that is my last recollection. I was then safe."
JUST OUT IN TIME.
Ella M. Churcher, 850 Washington boulevard, Chicago: