Burn

Burn

Life was monotonous. Kate Leone continued pressing the piece of cloth into the machines. It was slow, arduous work in an emotionally sapping environment. The lights were dimmed so low that Kate could barely see the woman working 2 rows down. The hot air was a heavy blanket suffocating her. It was a wonder that people could actually do their jobs. Indeed, it had only been 2 weeks since the last incident when one of the girls, not much older than Kate herself, had gotten her fingers caught up in one of the machines. They had chalked it up to an accident but Kate knew that it was cold-blooded murder with the weapon of choice being fatigue and deprivation.

There were really only 2 reasons she was doing this. The first was her mother who had fallen ill not too long ago. Kate’s father went away for days on end on mysterious errands. Kate’s mother was never pleased with the arrangement but she was a polite woman and would have done nothing about it had Kate’s father not taken their family’s money and consistently returned with nothing to show for it. This angered Kate’s mother and she occasionally raised her voice at him, or as much as she could through her raspy coughs. Whenever she tried to do so though, he would end up pushing her against the wall, choking the air out of her, and telling her that she didn’t exactly put food on the table either. Kate had tried to intervene once by picking up a nearby 2-by-4 and hitting him on the back of the knee so that his leg bent on itself and he would lose his balance. It had worked and allowed her mother with a momentary escape but it had also brought his attention to Kate herself. Her dad’s eyes were awfully angry, as they always were, but Kate also detected a hint of sadness and guilt. That very night, he had slipped out of the house. This time, he had left the money in the house alone. Kate and her coughing mother were left to fend for themselves. It was a preposterous idea that Kate’s mother could ever go to and from work in any workplace. Therefore, Kate had decided to leave her education where it was and join the 500 or so people at the nearby factory.

The second reason was Sara. Sara had been her best friend in school until she had to leave in order to start working at the factory properly. Sara’s sister and mother were here too. Sara’s father was a simple old typesetter who could not make ends meet with all the children that he had had with his wife. Kate had only to support herself and her mother but Sara and her family had 10 mouths to feed, 6 of which belonged to bodies that were too young to work.

Kate and Sara got to work on the same floor just by coincidence. They exchanged snippets of conversation whenever they could and served as messengers for the rest of the women on the floor. They were known as the 2 little angels of floor 9, a title given to them by the workers and eventually even used by the supervisor of the floor, though he never used that name when the bosses were around. Kate had never before seen an angel with so many layers of grime as she did but she took the compliment nonetheless and glowed every time she was called by her title.

Today, the 2 bosses had brought their daughters with them to the factory. Kate and Sara had desperately tried to catch a glimpse of the girls as they were walking into the building. From the windows up above, the angels of floor 9 looked down and stuck out their tongues at the pair of little girls down below. One of the bosses’ girls saw the angels up above and waved furiously. Kate and Sara hid down laughing like a duo of witches, which had definitely upset the girl but had also saved the angels from the wrath of their bosses.

It was Saturday and thus the restrictions were loosest today. People were in a better mood than they usually were, knowing that their work week was coming to a close and many of them would receive their very hard-earned money soon. It was about half past 4 when Kate was called to escort some cuttings to the scrap bin. She was greatly relieved by the advent of not having to continue with the same hand motion for so long. She gathered up the cuttings that Ms. Pearl wanted her to take away in one large scoop.

On her way out of the room, Kate whispered in Sara’s ear to go with her. Sara refused at first, being the hard-working girl she was, but Kate’s incessant nagging and the heaviness of the poisonous air around her convinced Sara that being away for just a little while to help Kate wouldn’t be too bad. She took a little more than half of Kate’s pile so that if she were to get caught, which was unlikely, Kate would be blamed for doing less than Sara. Kate didn’t mind this overmuch; the supervisor of the floor knew her and her story well enough and was sympathetic about the situation, defending her from anyone who claimed she didn’t deserve the money she earned.

On the way down to the scrap bin on the 8th floor, the girls noticed that a boy was standing by the bin with a cigarette in hand. That was rare; the people working here were usually girls because of their nimble and dexterous nature. The smell of the cigarette was absolutely disgusting and the girls had to hold their noses as they walked past him. They didn’t know the boy but his face seemed to be friendly enough so they asked him. The corners of his mouth curled upwards. Not many people asked a question like this in such a packed and busy building. Everyone seemed to mind his or her own business. He explained to the little girls that he was a recent hire to replace the girl who had had an incident 2 weeks ago.

They talked awhile next to the scrap bin about the dangers of the conditions around them and how badly they needed the money. The boy asked if they’d like a drag of the cigarette. Sara refused vehemently, telling Kate and the boy that she needed to go back to the 9th floor, in case anyone needed help. She also claimed that making the air heavy with smoke wasn’t exactly going to help. The boy rebutted that it kept him awake and improved his health and the health of the people around him. Frustrated, Sara stormed off, back to the 9th floor.

Kate, ever the more adventurous of the 2, accepted the boy’s offer. She dragged once, twice on the cigarette before she started coughing. The boy laughed, at which Kate slapped him lightly on the back of his head. Sara called back to Kate from the staircase and Kate hurriedly rushed up to Sara. As she left, she called out to the boy calling him a silly fool for liking the cigarette. The boy rubbed the back of his head and took a long draw of the cigarette, eyeing the staircase through which Kate had left. He finally realized who the girls were: the angels of floor 9. He made a mental note to tell them about his realization next time they were to meet. After one last, even longer drag, the boy threw the cigarette into the bin next to him.

On a whim, Kate decided to check once more on the doorman so she turned around and ran down the stairs 2 at a time. Despite her status as one of the 2 angels of floor 9, the doorman was still as cold and unforgiving as always. The doors in and out of the building were always kept locked in order to prevent thievery. To be fair, there was a reason to do so. Kate herself had stealthily stolen 2 shirtwaists before, one for her mother and another for herself.

Regardless of the fact, she tried to convince the doorman to let her out just a little so that she could use the bathroom. Her pleas fell on deaf ears. As she returned back upstairs, Kate cursed the doorman and his family. The doorman remained unfazed, guarding the door with his life. Kate returned to floor 9, where she regained her angelic status.

As soon as she came up, the wind was knocked out of her as she was tackled into a hug by Sara. They remained that way for a good 2 seconds before Kate smelled what it was that made Sara do this. Fire! Kate peeled Sara off of her gently and came face to face with a trembling Sara with tears flowing in rivulets down her cheeks. Kate’s mind shot into overdrive, thinking of different ways for them to escape alive and well. The door downstairs would be locked and there was no way they could get down there anyway. The fire was coming from the floor below. They could never go down there. So they went the only way they could go: up.

The 2 girls ran up to the 11th floor. Sara’s mother and sister met them there. They too were scared out of their minds and were scrambling for a solution. They could find no answer. The fire department would not be coming fast enough. That’s not how it worked for people of their status and they knew it. They were going to die and there was nothing that they could do to change that.

At least they could control how they died.

Kate proposed the idea first. It was not a decision any of them were happy with but they knew that there was no other way out. Kate offered one last hug to Sara. Together in that hug, they jumped.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Bodies landed around the gathering spectators. There must have been hundreds of them. Women fell. Men fell. Girls fell. Angels fell. Their burned bodies bent out of shape by the cold, unforgiving sidewalk. The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory went up in flames. Lives went up in flames. America went up in flames.

In memory of:

LEONE, Kate, 14, asphyxiation/burns. 515 E. 11 St. Identified by a lock of hair by her uncle, Dominic Leone. Times, March 28.

MALTESE, Catherine, asphyxiation/burns. 35 Second Ave. Identified on December 18, 1911, when her husband, Serafino, finally recognized one of her possessions. Mother of Lucy and Sara. Leon Stein, The Triangle Fire, p. 204.

MALTESE, Lucia “Lucy,” 20, asphyxiation/burns. 35 Second Ave. Identified by her father Serafino. Sister of Sara, daughter of Catherine. Multiple newspapers, March 27.

MALTESE, Rosaria “Sara,” 14, asphyxiation/burns. 35 Second Ave. Identified by her father Serafino. Sister of Lucy, daughter of Catherine. Multiple newspapers, March 27.