When I saw the prompt for this week's #52Ancestors challenge, I must admit my mind did not long dwell on the obvious idea of writing a post on a dearly departed relative. Almost immediately, it took a darker turn. Although I have no reason to believe that the story of the fire I am about to relate is due to someone lighting a candle, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. In the end, no people - family or otherwise - were seriously harmed in the fire, so I feel safe in cheekily offering "[Don't] Light a Candle" as this week's post.
In the early morning of November 23, 1937, 12 people were forced to evacuate a 4-apartment building. The fire started in the basement and initially woke the occupants of a downstairs apartment. The 2 parents, their daughters, and their daughters' two children escaped in their nightclothes. Some of them managed to find shoes in the darkness, and some of them were barefoot. By the time they became aware of the blaze, it had already reached the building's fuse box. A woman in an upstairs apartment was awakened by the sound of coughing. She escaped to her porch, called for help, and was eventually rescued by firefighters.
The remaining five occupants of the building were my relatives. My grandfather's half-sister, Lois, was recovering from the birth of her daughter, Barbara Jane. Her mother (my great grandmother, Lena) was visiting. Great Grandma Lena was accompanied by my grandfather, Jerry, who was three years old at the time. They eventually smelled the smoke and heard the commotion and came up with a plan to evacuate. As Lois had not left her bed since giving birth, she was carried down the stairs by her husband, Ed Fischer. Great Grandma Lena carried baby Barbara in her arms and Grandpa Jerry on her back. What a woman!
Shortly after my grandfather passed, I received a tote of family pictures and newspaper clippings. The above photo and the accompanying article were among them.
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