The St. Anthony's Hospital Fire in Effingham, Illinois. (1949)

Like much of the United States, Effingham, Illinois, experienced rapid growth in the years after World War II. 

St. Anthony's Hospital as it appeared before the 1949 fire.

St. Anthony’s Hospital in Effingham had been the county’s only hospital since 1873, but in 1949 the region was quickly outgrowing the small facility. Operated by the Sisters of St. Francis, who lived in a convent next door, the hospital was sanitary and well-kept, but completely outdated. Constructed mainly out of wood and brick, the 100-bed hospital contained open corridors and staircases and many of the walls were covered with oilcloth fabrics and combustible soundproof tiles. The city was planning to build a larger, modern hospital in 1951, but tragedy struck on April 4, 1949.

St. Anthony's Hospital on fire on April 4, 1949.

Shortly before midnight, a massive fire broke out at St. Anthony’s Hospital, spreading rapidly through the building. As the hospital had no architectural components that controlled fire, the flames easily burned through the wood and plaster interior. Many of the 116 patients were immediately trapped on the upper floors, including disabled elderly residents, injured patients stuck in casts, splints, and traction devices, and a nursery full of newborn babies. A few brave doctors and nurses helped some escape, returning to the burning building multiple times to rescue patients, but the fire was too strong. Ultimately, 74 people were killed, including patients, nurses, nuns, a priest, and a hospital superintendent who ran into the flames to try to rescue his wife.

As the hospital had no fire alarm system, valuable time was lost before someone was able to set off the town’s fire siren. All but one of the 26-man Effingham Volunteer Fire Department arrived within ten minutes of hearing the siren, but by that time the fire had already burned through the hospital roof. Rescue efforts were further impeded as the small department had only three pumping engines. Until mutual aid departments arrived on scene hours after the blaze started, the firefighters had no ladder truck or other aerial apparatus to use to rescue victims from the otherwise inaccessible upper floors of the hospital. In the end, with the assistance of eleven mutual aid departments from as far away as 66 miles, firefighters were able to keep the fire from spreading elsewhere, but the hospital was virtually destroyed.

Although the cause of the fire remains unknown, investigators had little trouble pinpointing the safety deficiencies at St. Anthony’s Hospital. The combination of the combustible building materials in the open corridors, stairwells, and vertical shafts, along with the lack of fire sprinklers, detectors, and alarms had essentially doomed the hospital as soon as the fire began. In response, Governor Adlai Stevenson ordered the State Fire Marshal to evaluate all of Illinois’ hospitals to pinpoint and correct any fire hazards. Many other hospitals throughout the country also improved their fire safety measures in an effort to avoid similar disasters. In fact, as a direct result of the fire at St. Anthony’s, modern hospitals now incorporate numerous fire safety features to protect patients who cannot be quickly evacuated, including fire barriers, smoke compartments, and stairway enclosures.

Every person who died in the fire that night had a unique personal history. Here are a few of their stories:

Staff
Shirley Clements, a 22-year-old registered nurse, wasn’t supposed to be there that night. She and her husband, Hilary Clements, had a 9-month-old daughter, and Shirley was working an extra private-duty shift before a planned break from nursing to be at home with her baby. She assisted patients out of the building, jumping once from the first floor. She then re-entered the building to retrieve more patients, but this time her uniform caught fire and she escaped by jumping again, from an upper-floor window, suffering severe burns and broken bones. Shirley refused immediate treatment, stating that she knew she could not live and requested that others be treated instead. She was transported, accompanied by her husband, to a hospital at Granite City, Illinois, near her hometown of Belleville. Although listed as a survivor in early reports, Shirley succumbed to her injuries on Tuesday, April 5, 1949, the evening after the fire.

Fern Riley, a 22-year-old practical nurse who worked in the second-floor nursery, refused to leave and died with the 11 newborns there. Others were jumping to escape the flames, but she undoubtedly saw no way to get the fragile babies to safety. Her body was later found in the nursery with them. Fern grew up in the nearby town of Holliday, Illinois, one of a family of ten children. Her story was featured in a number of newspaper and magazine articles about the tragedy.

Frank Ries, the building engineer who lived next door, was off duty and at home that night, but his wife was working at the hospital. He entered the burning building, where he attempted to extinguish the flames involving a laundry chute that ran from the top floor of the building. His wife, Marie, on duty on the second floor, was able to escape by jumping from a window. Although severely injured in the fall, she was taken to a hospital in another town and survived. Frank, however, did not escape the fire. His body was later found in the basement level with emptied fire extinguishers nearby. Frank was born in 1900 in Recklinghausen, Germany. He was survived by his wife and four children, as well as two brothers living in Illinois and two brothers and a sister in Dusseldorf, Germany.

Sister Eustachia Gatki was found near a window with some of her third-floor patients, none of whom survived. Sister Eustachia was born at Boleslawiec, Silesia, in 1895.

Sister Bertina Hinricher was found on the second floor, huddled with a small group of patients who were unable to escape. She was a native of Holtwick, Germany, born in 1887.

Reverend Fr. Charles Sandon, age 52, was the hospital chaplain. He was born in Decatur, Illinois, and was ordained a priest in 1922. His body was found in his room on the second floor.

Patients
Doris Brummer, a 12-year-old girl, was hospitalized with a broken leg and was unable to escape the fire.

Edward Brummer, Jr., newborn son of Mr. and Mrs. Ed Brummer and the nephew of young Doris, died in the nursery.

Harold Gentry was spending the night at the hospital with his infant son, Harold Dennis Gentry. Harold's wife, Ina, had given birth six weeks before to the baby boy, who had been readmitted for treatment. Both father and son died in the fire.

Floyd Mascher, age 35, had been admitted to the hospital for surgery. Her husband, Floyd, was at home with their 2-year-old daughter. (Floyd Mascher and Ina Gentry later met and married. They went on to have a son together and raised him along with Floyd's daughter.)

Evan Kabalzyk, an elderly Russian immigrant, had been blinded years before in a coal mining accident and was said to be able to navigate the building with ease. He resided in the nursing home area on the third floor.

Eileen and Irene Sigrist, week-old twin daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Russell Sigrist, had been born at home and then taken to the hospital for nursing care. The babies were the third set of twins born to their parents. The Sigrists would later donate the first $100 toward the rebuilding fund.

Resulting Fire Safety Awareness
The Effingham fire prompted a review of fire safety and building standards at hospitals nationwide, with emphasis on:

• Construction of buildings
• Storage of equipment
• Evacuation planning
• Fire alarms, extinguishers, and training.

The official report of the state fire marshal found that the fire had been fed by flammable cellulose ceiling tiles, oilcloth wall coverings, fresh paint, freshly varnished wood floors, and open stairwells. In addition, oxygen and ether tanks exploded in a basement storage area, further feeding the blaze.

Although the initial cause of the fire was never officially determined, smoke was first noted to be emanating from a wooden laundry chute. It was speculated that a smoldering cigarette may have been gathered up with patient bedding and tossed down the chute, where it finally ignited the surrounding material.

Fire codes implemented as a result of the St. Anthony's fire included requirements for smoke and fire barriers as well as fire-resistant enclosed stairways

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

The LaSalle Bank Fire in Chicago. (2004)

On Monday, December 6, 2004, an electrical fire broke out on the 29th floor of the LaSalle Bank Building in Chicago’s Downtown Loop at about 6:30 PM. Burning for more than five hours, the 5-11 and 3 Special Alarm fire reached temperatures in excess of 2,000° and spread to the 30th floor of the building, mainly due to the absence of sprinklers. More than 400 firefighters and one-third of the Chicago Fire Department’s apparatus were on-scene, and nearly 25 suburban communities responded with mutual aid support.

As the largest high-rise fire in Illinois history, the LaSalle Bank fire could have been a repeat of the tragedy at the Cook County Administration Building Fire one year earlier, but instead, the outcome was far more positive. In a stroke of good luck for firefighters, the design of the building contributed to smooth fire fighting operations. Firefighters took advantage of the tiered construction of the building by setting up on the roofs of some of the building’s lower tiers. These roofs, just a few floors below the flames, gave firefighters the perfect perch for spraying water into the windows of the burning 29th floor. The positive ending to the LaSalle Bank Fire was not just due to the fortunate design of the building, however, but was instead a direct result of the dramatic steps taken by the Chicago Fire Department to improve high-rise operations following the Cook County Administration Building Fire.

After arriving on-scene, the Chicago Fire Department began immediate evacuation and rescue operations, as Rapid Ascent Teams conducted floor-by-floor searches of the LaSalle Bank Building. Even though it was after normal operating hours, about 500 workers were still at work in the 45-story building. Remembering the lessons from one year earlier, the commanding officers designated one stairwell for use in evacuation operations, while another was reserved for firefighter use. In addition, rescue personnel was in close contact with 911 operators, who kept building occupants on the line so that rescuers could know the exact locations of trapped victims. Also contributing to smooth evacuations, stairwell doors in the building had been left unlocked and the fire alarm announcements gave clear instructions to the building occupants, who knew how to react because of frequent fire and evacuation drills recently mandated by the city.

The LaSalle Bank Fire proved to be as much of a turning point for high-rise fire and rescue operations. While more than 30 people, mostly firefighters, were sent to hospitals for minor injuries, there were no fatalities. Moreover, the Chicago Fire Department’s new High-Rise Incident Command Order, enacted only two months earlier, proved effective in directing firefighters and commanders during the blaze. Citywide training in high-rise fire fighting and evacuation provided by the Illinois Fire Service Institute also contributed to the successful fire fighting operations.

LaSalle Bank's storied collection of fine-art photographs survived the perilous fire at the bank's Chicago headquarters in 2004. It's one of the oldest and largest photography collections in the corporate environment.

The bank’s collection of 4,500 works includes photos by nature photographer Ansel Adams, Civil War photographer Mathew Brady, and photography pioneer William Henry Fox Talbot. It spans the history of photography, from some of the earliest images ever taken to contemporary works.

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.

The Burlington Office Building Fire, Chicago. (1922)

At approximately 12:50 AM on Wednesday, March 15, 1922, the Chicago Fire Department received an alarm from Box 276, which was located at West Van Buren and South Canal Streets. The fire had been reported by a postal clerk who noticed flames starting to burn through the roof of the building at 517 West Jackson Boulevard.

The fire actually started in the Austin Building on Canal Street and quickly spread to a number of adjacent buildings, including the Canal Street 'L' Station.

The massive fire destroyed the entire city block bordered by Jackson Boulevard, Van Buren, Canal, and Clinton Streets.

Likely based upon this information, the Chicago Fire Department immediately reinforced the initial responding firefighters by dispatching an additional three engine companies, a hook and ladder, two Fire Insurance Patrol units, two Battalion Chiefs, and one First Assistant Fire Marshal to the scene. The First Assistant Fire Marshal noted that by the time that the initial units arrived, the fire had already started spreading to adjacent buildings, suggesting that the fire had burned unnoticed for a considerable amount of time before the fire department responded.

CLICK DIAGRAM FOR EXPANDED VIEW.

Throughout the early morning of March 15th, the fire continued to spread to adjacent buildings. In all, 13 buildings would be involved in the fire, the tallest of which was the 15-story office building owned by the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad Company. 

Firefighters attempted to get water to the upper floors of the Burlington office building but were hampered by the fact that the department did not have a high-pressure water system that could deliver water to upper floors of taller buildings. Firefighters were greatly assisted by the valiant efforts of elevator operators in the building who risked their lives to move men and equipment to the upper floors during the fire. Around 2:30 AM, the fire was largely under control, but units continued to be called out to the scene until close to 5 o'clock in the morning. 

Chicago Chief Fire Marshal Thomas O’Connor stated in the midst of the fire that it was the worst in Chicago’s history since the Great Fire of 1871. The report of the Chicago Board of Underwriters on the fire noted many factors that contributed to the size of the conflagration, including floors that were oil-soaked and filled with combustible materials, narrow spaces between buildings that allowed the fire to easily spread, and sprinkler systems with too many sprinkler-heads that discharged the inadequate water supply too quickly.

The fire still smolders.

In total, 80% of the Chicago Fire Department responded to the fire, including 51 engine companies, 6 hook and ladder companies, 7 squad companies, 2 fireboats, and many high ranking Chicago Fire Department officers. Additionally, four Chicago Fire Insurance Patrol units took part in the efforts and the sole fatality at the fire was one of these Insurance Patrol firefighters. Firefighter James J. McGovern of Fire Insurance Patrol 1 was struck by a piece of stone masonry that fell from the Burlington Building on his head, fracturing his skull, causing his death shortly thereafter.

The fire destroyed the following buildings:
517-523 W. Jackson Boulevard. A two-story and basement joisted brick building with multiple tenants. This building had exposed unprotected openings on all sides.

525-531 W. Jackson Boulevard. A one and two-story and basement joisted brick building with multiple tenants. Unprotected openings on all sides.

541-553 W. Jackson Boulevard. Fifteen-story, roof house, basement and sub-basement, fire-resistive building, occupied by C. B. & Q. Railroad Co. as offices, with bank tenant on the ground floor. 

309-315 S. Clinton Street. A seven-story and basement joisted brick building. This building, together with 317-319 S. Clinton Street, 306-312 S. Canal Street, and 314-318 S. Canal Street formed the group known as the Austin Building. The occupancy of this group consisted principally of wood and metal workers, printers, electrotypers, and machine shops. The building had a sprinkler system. The sprinkler system was wet except in part of the basement. It was supplied by a 21,300-gallon gravity tank with a 17-foot head, and 3,400 gallons in pressure tank on No. 306-12; 1,590 gallons in pressure tank on the 6th floor of No. 309-15; 2,800 gallons in pressure tank on the roof of No. 317-19; four single steamer connections. The equipment was graded 5/10 of standard. 

317-319 S. Clinton Street. A one-story and basement and seven-story and basement semi-mill building. Exposed on three sides. Communicated to No. 309-315 through unprotected openings in the basement and non-automatic iron doors above. 

306-312 S. Canal Street. An eight-story, basement, and subbasement, semi-mill building. Exposed on all sides.

314-318 S. Canal Street. An eight-story, basement, and subbasement, semi-mill building. This building communicated with 306-312 through common elevator shafts with single non-automatic iron doors, and basement, fifth and eighth through double non-automatic iron doors. 

300-304 S. Canal Street. An eight-story, basement, and subbasement, semi-mill building, sprinklers, with multiple tenants. This was known as the Atlantic Building. It was exposed on north and east, had wired glass windows on the south, and unprotected openings on west above the sixth floor and blank wall below. The sprinkler system was wet, supplied by 20,300 gallons in a gravity tank with a 22-foot head; 3,000 gallons in each of two pressure tanks and two steamer connections. The equipment was graded 9/10 of standard.

324 S. Canal Street. The elevated 'L' station, platform and structure.

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.