From the Saturday Night Omen to the O’Leary Legend.
On Saturday evening, October 7, 1871, an ominous blaze erupted in the boiler room of Lull & Holmes Planning Mill on Canal Street. In just a few hours, the so-called “Saturday Night Fire” scorched four square blocks, consumed close to a million dollars in property, and left Chicago’s already strained fire crews exhausted and ill-prepared for what was to come.
Less than twenty-four hours later, sparks flew again—this time behind the O’Leary family’s modest cottage on DeKoven Street. Legend holds that Mrs. Catherine O’Leary’s cow kicked over a lantern, igniting a barn fire that grew into the Great Chicago Fire, laying waste to roughly 3.3 square miles, destroying 17,450 buildings, and rendering 100,000 residents homeless. Official inquiries never conclusively pinned blame on the cow, and a century later, the city council formally exonerated both Mrs. O’Leary and her bovine. Yet, the image of that fateful hoof kick endures as Chicago’s most notorious myth.
Chicago’s trial by fire began even earlier. On October 19, 1857, a conflagration at South Water and Lake Streets swept through five-story warehouses and toppling brick facades. Among those lost was Liberty Hose Company foreman John Dickey, the city’s first volunteer firefighter fatality. With half a million dollars in damages, the disaster exposed glaring weaknesses in Chicago’s volunteer-only fire response and laid the groundwork for a professional department better suited to the city’s swelling needs.
This curated series of articles invites you to step back into moments when Chicago’s wooden streets became rivers of flame, to explore the sparks that presaged disaster, and to unravel the legends that emerged from the ashes and embers. Through firsthand accounts and fresh research, you’ll witness how each fire tested—and ultimately strengthened—the resolve of a city forever defined by its capacity to rise again.