Devil Doc
When Death smiles, Corpsmen smile back
On this day in 1871, the 335,000 residents of Chicago experienced yet another warm, sunny day of their three-month long drought. The conditions were getting dangerous because the whole city was built of wood. A few fires had broken out, including one the night before, for which the whole fire department was called out. But it was nothing like the Great Chicago Fire, which began the evening of October 8, at 8:45 p.m. The fire broke out at the barn of two Irish immigrants, Catherine and Patrick O'Leary, on the West Side. The story is that Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked over a kerosene lamp while she was being milked.
The fire traveled quickly on the West Side, but the people on the other side of the Chicago River felt safe in their beds. By midnight, though, it had jumped the river and was traveling northeast and upriver. It traveled up to 30 mph at times, and generated "fire devils," whirling masses of fire and superheated air that traveled even faster than the fire itself. The fire devils caused high winds that sent burning planks and other fiery objects soaring for hundreds of yards through the air. The intense heat caused spontaneous combustion in places not yet reached by the fire.
People were running out of their houses and running north. Some people took as many belongings as they could. They ran holding cats, dogs, and goats. One eyewitness saw a lady running with a pot of soup that was spilling all over her dress. Another woman was carrying her framed wedding veil and wreath.
By the next morning, the heart of the business district was in flames. By October 10, more than three square miles in the heart of the city were completely destroyed. The property damages were $200 million. Almost 100,000 people were homeless, and nearly 300 were dead. It was more than 24 hours later, and four and a half miles from where it started, that the fire finally ran out of fuel and rain came.
But the city rebuilt itself. After 18 months had passed, more than 1,000 major buildings, valued at more than $50 million, had been erected. Two years after the fire, the value of the bare ground of the new Chicago was worth more than it had been in 1871 with all its buildings. Between 1870 and 1880, the population rose from 300,000 to 500,000. Then it more than doubled by the turn of the century.
Doc.
PS. I don't care what they say, it ain't Columbus day
The fire traveled quickly on the West Side, but the people on the other side of the Chicago River felt safe in their beds. By midnight, though, it had jumped the river and was traveling northeast and upriver. It traveled up to 30 mph at times, and generated "fire devils," whirling masses of fire and superheated air that traveled even faster than the fire itself. The fire devils caused high winds that sent burning planks and other fiery objects soaring for hundreds of yards through the air. The intense heat caused spontaneous combustion in places not yet reached by the fire.
People were running out of their houses and running north. Some people took as many belongings as they could. They ran holding cats, dogs, and goats. One eyewitness saw a lady running with a pot of soup that was spilling all over her dress. Another woman was carrying her framed wedding veil and wreath.
By the next morning, the heart of the business district was in flames. By October 10, more than three square miles in the heart of the city were completely destroyed. The property damages were $200 million. Almost 100,000 people were homeless, and nearly 300 were dead. It was more than 24 hours later, and four and a half miles from where it started, that the fire finally ran out of fuel and rain came.
But the city rebuilt itself. After 18 months had passed, more than 1,000 major buildings, valued at more than $50 million, had been erected. Two years after the fire, the value of the bare ground of the new Chicago was worth more than it had been in 1871 with all its buildings. Between 1870 and 1880, the population rose from 300,000 to 500,000. Then it more than doubled by the turn of the century.
Doc.
PS. I don't care what they say, it ain't Columbus day
