The Iroquois Theatre fire was a catastrophic building fire in Chicago, Illinois, that broke out on December 30, 1903, during a performance attended by 1,700 people. The fire caused 602 deaths and 250 non-fatal injuries. It ranks as the worst theater fire in the United States, surpassing the carnage of the Brooklyn Theatre fire of 1876, which claimed at least 278 lives.
For nearly a century, the Iroquois Theatre fire was the deadliest single-building disaster in American history. Only the destruction of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, has claimed more lives among United States disasters impacting a single building or complex.
Despite being billed as "absolutely fireproof", the Iroquois Theatre, which opened a month before the fire, exhibited numerous deficiencies in fire readiness that contributed to the high death toll. Some of these deficiencies were known by city officials tasked with public safety. The resulting scandal resulted in changes in building safety codes and code enforcement in the United States and throughout the world.
The fire broke out at about 3:15 p.m. while the Iroquois presented a matinee performance of the musical Mr. Blue Beard starring Eddie Foy. A broken arc lamp ignited some muslin curtains, which stage managers were unable to douse. Stagehands tried to lower the safety curtain to contain the fire, but the curtain jammed part way down. Despite attempts by Foy to calm the crowd, audience members frantically rushed for the exits, only to find that fire exits were locked or hidden. The largest death toll was at the base of stairways, where hundreds of people were trampled, crushed or asphyxiated; some people jumped to their deaths from the fire escapes. The Iroquois had no fire-alarm box or telephone, which hampered initial rescue efforts. It is estimated that 575 people were killed on the day of the fire, with dozens dying afterward; the vast majority of those killed were audience members.
Two features, the safety curtain and fire dampers, were either not present or not working at the time of the fire. Other contributing factors included a lack of exit signs, emergency lighting, or fire preparedness; doors that opened inward or were locked shut; confusing exit routes; icy or improperly installed fire escapes; and the presence of ornamental doors. The Iroquois Memorial Hospital was built as a memorial to the fire, and Chicago held an annual memorial service. The Iroquois fire prompted widespread implementation of the panic bar, asbestos fire curtains, and doors that open outward. The theater was rebuilt and operated until 1925, when it was replaced by the Oriental Theatre.
Theater
The Iroquois Theatre was located at 26 West Randolph Street, between State Street and Dearborn Street. The syndicate that bankrolled its construction chose the location specifically to attract women visiting the city on day trips who would be more comfortable attending a theater near the police-patrolled Loop shopping district. The theater opened on November 23, 1903, after numerous delays resulting from labor unrest and, according to one writer, the unexplained inability of architect Benjamin Marshall to complete required drawings on time. Upon opening, the theater was lauded by drama critics; Walter K. Hill wrote in the New York Clipper (a predecessor of Variety) that the Iroquois was "the most beautiful ... in Chicago, and competent judges state that few theaters in America can rival its architectural perfections ..."
The Iroquois had a capacity of 1,602 with three audience levels. The main floor, known as the orchestra or parquet, had approximately 700 seats on the same level as the foyer and Grand Stair Hall. The second level, the dress circle or (first) balcony, had more than 400 seats. The third level, the gallery, had about 500 seats. There were four boxes on the first level and two on the level above.
The theater had only one entrance. A broad stairway that led from the foyer to the balcony level was also used to reach the stairs to the gallery level. Theater designers claimed that this allowed patrons to "see and be seen" regardless of the price of their seats. However, the common stairway ignored Chicago fire ordinances that required separate stairways and exits for each balcony. The design proved disastrous: people exiting the gallery encountered a crowd leaving the balcony level, and people descending from the upper levels met the orchestra-level patrons in the foyer. The backstage areas were unusually large. Dressing rooms were on five levels, and an elevator was available to transport actors down to the stage level. The fly gallery (where scenery was hung) was also uncommonly large.
After the fire, the Iroquois Theatre was renamed and reopened as the Hyde & Behman's Music Hall in September 1904. In October 1905, it was rechristened as the Colonial Theatre. It remained active until the building was demolished in 1925. In 1926, the Oriental Theatre was built on the site. In 2019, the Oriental Theatre was renamed the Nederlander Theatre.
Fire readiness deficiencies noted before the fire
Despite being billed as "absolutely fireproof" in advertisements and playbills, numerous deficiencies in fire readiness were apparent in the theater building. An editor of Fireproof Magazine toured the Iroquois during construction and noted "the absence of an intake, or stage draft shaft; the exposed reinforcement of the (proscenium) arch; the presence of wood trim on everything and the inadequate provision of exits."
Chicago Fire Department (CFD) captain Patrick Jennings performed an unofficial tour of the theater days before the official opening and noted that there were no sprinklers, alarms, telephones or water connections. The captain and the theater's fireman William Sallers discussed the deficiencies. Sallers did not report the matter directly to fire chief William Musham, concerned that he would be dismissed by the syndicate that owned the theater. When Captain Jennings reported the matter to his commanding officer, battalion chief John J. Hannon, he was told that nothing could be done as the theater already had a fireman.
The onsite firefighting equipment consisted of six Kilfyre fire extinguishers. The New York Tribune noted that the theater had no automatic sprinkler system despite it being required by law, and that the theater management was shown to have violated building laws. Kilfyre was a form of dry chemical extinguisher also sold for dousing chimney fires in residential houses. It consisted of a 2 in × 24 in (5.1 cm × 61.0 cm) tube of tin filled with about 3 pounds (1.4 kg) of white powder, mostly sodium bicarbonate. The user was instructed to "forcibly hurl" the contents of the tube at the base of the flames. The fire began high above the stage, so the Kilfyre, when thrown, fell uselessly to the ground.
Fire
On Wednesday, December 30, 1903, the Iroquois presented a matinee performance of the popular Drury Lane musical Mr. Blue Beard, which had been playing at the theater since opening night. The play, a burlesque of the traditional "Bluebeard" folk tale, featured Dan McAvoy as Bluebeard and Eddie Foy as Sister Anne, a role that showcased his physical-comedy skills. Dancer Bonnie Maginn was also in the cast as Imer Dasher. Attendance since opening night had been disappointing as the result of poor weather, labor unrest and other factors. The December 30 performance drew a much larger sellout audience. Tickets were sold for every seat in the house, plus hundreds more for the standing-room areas at the back of the theater. Many of the estimated 2,100–2,200 patrons attending the matinee were children. The standing-room areas were so crowded that some patrons sat in the aisles, blocking the exits.
At about 3:15 p.m., shortly after the beginning of the second act, eight men and eight women were performing the double-octet musical number "In the Pale Moonlight", with the stage illuminated by blue-tinted spotlights to suggest a night scene. Sparks from an arc light ignited a muslin curtain, possibly as the result of an electrical short circuit. Lamp operator William McMullen testified that the lamp was placed too close to the curtain but that stage managers had failed to offer a solution when he had first reported the problem. McMullen clapped at the fire when it started, but the flame quickly raced up the curtain and beyond his reach. Theater fireman William Sallers tried to douse the fire with the Kilfyre canisters, but by that time it had spread to the fly gallery high above the stage where several thousand square feet of highly flammable painted canvas scenery flats were hung. The stage manager tried to lower the asbestos fire curtain, but it snagged. Early reports stated that the asbestos curtain was stopped by the trolley wire that carried acrobats over the stage, but later investigation showed that the curtain had been blocked by a light reflector that protruded from under the proscenium arch. A chemist who later tested part of the curtain stated that it was composed mainly of wood pulp mixed with asbestos and would have been "of no value in a fire."
Foy, who had been preparing to take the stage, attempted to calm the crowd from the stage, first ensuring that his young son was in the care of a stagehand. He later wrote, "It struck me as I looked out over the crowd during the first act that I had never before seen so many women and children in the audience. Even the gallery was full of mothers and children." Foy was widely considered a hero after the fire for his courage in remaining on stage and pleading with patrons not to panic even as large chunks of burning scenery landed around him.
By this time, many of the patrons on all levels were attempting to flee the theater. Some had found the fire exits hidden behind draperies on the north side of the building but discovered that they could not open the unfamiliar bascule locks. Bar owner Frank Houseman, a former baseball player with the Chicago Colts, defied an usher who refused to open a door. He was able to open the door because his ice box at home had a similar lock. Houseman credited his friend, outfielder Charlie Dexter, who had just quit the Boston Beaneaters, with forcing open another door. A third door was opened either by brute force or by a blast of air, but most of the other doors could not be opened. Some patrons panicked, crushing or trampling others in a desperate attempt to escape. Many were killed while trapped in dead ends or while trying to open windows that appeared to be doors.
The dancers on stage were also forced to flee, along with the performers backstage and in the numerous dressing rooms. Several performers and stagehands escaped through the building's main rear exit, which consisted of a large set of stock double doors normally used for moving large fly sceneries and set pieces or props into the backstage area. When the door was opened, an icy wind blast rushed inside, fueling the flames with air and causing the fire to grow substantially larger.
Many performers escaped through the coal hatch and through windows in the dressing rooms, and others tried to escape via the west stage door, which opened inward and became jammed as actors frantically pressed toward the door. A passing railroad agent saw the crowd pressing against the door and unfastened the hinges from the outside, allowing the actors and stagehands to escape. As the vents above the stage were nailed or wired shut, the fireball instead traveled outward, ducking under the stuck asbestos curtain and streaking toward the vents behind the dress circle and gallery 50 feet (15 m) away. The hot gases and flames passed over the heads of those in the orchestra seats and incinerated flammable materials in the gallery and dress circle levels, including patrons still trapped in those areas.
Those in the orchestra section exited into the foyer and out of the front door, but those in the dress circle and gallery who escaped the fireball could not reach the foyer because stairwells were blocked by high layers of fallen victims. Although iron grates that blocked secondary stairways during performances (to prevent patrons in the cheaper seats from sneaking downstairs to the more expensive lower levels) were still in place, first responders found very few victims near the gates. The largest death toll was at the base of stairways, where hundreds of people were trampled, crushed or asphyxiated. People who were able to escape using the emergency exits on the north side found themselves on fire escapes, one of which was improperly installed, causing people to trip upon exiting the fire-escape door. Many jumped or fell from the icy, narrow fire escapes to their deaths, and the bodies of the first jumpers broke the falls of those who followed them. Students from the Northwestern University building north of the theater tried bridging the gap with a ladder and then with some boards between the rooftops, saving those few able to manage the makeshift crossover.
The Iroquois had no fire-alarm box or telephone. The CFD's Engine 13 was alerted to the fire by a stagehand who had been ordered to run from the burning theater to the nearest firehouse. On the way to the scene, at approximately 3:33 p.m., a member of Engine 13 activated an alarm box to call additional units. Initial efforts focused on the people trapped on the fire escapes. The alley to the north of the theater, known as Couch Place, was icy, narrow and full of smoke. Aerial ladders could not be used in the alley and black nets, concealed by the smoke, proved useless.
The Chicago Police Department became involved when an officer patrolling the theater district saw people emerge from the building in a panic, some with clothing on fire. The officer reported the incident from a police box on Randolph Street, and police, summoned by whistles, soon converged on the scene to control traffic and aid with the evacuation. Some of the city's 30 uniformed police matrons were summoned because of the large number of female casualties.