Waist by sean serafini

Waist

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events, either are the product of the authors imagination or are used ficticiously. The Jewish Consumptive Relief Society and the Triangle Silk Waist Company are based off real businesses and organizations however, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locals is entirley coincindental. Visual Sequencing Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design Martin Mendelsberg Waist ©2009 Sean Serafini ‘Bessie’ character Based losely on Bessie Harris Patient folder #668, Jewish Consumtive Relief Society Documents courtesy of: JCRS Collection, Beck Archives Special Collections, Penrose Library and Center for Judaic Studies, University of Denver, 2009 All artwork created by Sean Serafini. This book is set in Keplar STD Printed in The United States of America.

v Table of Contents

Getting Sick

Ben

Jcrs

Discharged

New York

Tragedy

Facts and credits

“Stop! Stop right now! There is no where else to run.” Bessie stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around to face the man cast in shadows. The man was of large stature, and wore a long brown wool coat with fur around the collar. He pulled a newspaper out from his inside jacket pocket. “Read this!” demanded the man in as he threw the paper down across the cold, concrete floor. The newspaper slid up to Bessie’s feet, she picked it up and read the headline. A tear began to roll down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know what you must think but I am not responsible for this.” “Everything I ever loved was taken from me,” replied the man in a soft trembled voice. “Everything. You have taken everything

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from me.” The man paused for a moment. “Do you know who Sarah Brooks is?” Another tear rolled down Bessie’s cheek as she looked up at the man. “Answer me!” demanded the man. “Who is Sarah Brooks!?” “I– I don’t know,” replied Bessie as she started to softly cry and put her hands up to her face covering her mouth and nose. “You don’t know her huh?” softly spoke the man. “Your daughter I– I suppose,” responded Bessie. “Yes. She was my daughter. She was a wonderful girl, you know. She was a writer. She loved writing; it was her dream to be a professional writer. And she was good, boy was she good.” Bessie didn’t know what to do. She stared up at the man and wanted to try and explain. “Sir I–’’ “Shut up!” yelled the man. “Do me a favor, that paper in your hand, why don’t you read me the headline.” As she turned around the Sunday Tribune, dated March 26, 1911, with tears streaming slowly down her face, she tried her hardest to get the words out.

“New York Fire Kills 148: Girl Victims Leap to Death from Factory,” Bessie finally said in a low voice. “Girl victims leap to death from factory,” he repeated. There was another long pause before the man continued. “Do you know what floor she worked on Bessie?” asked the man in a very solemn tone. “I-I don’t know,” she replied, almost unable to speak. “Nine. The Ninth floor. Sarah Brooks jumped out of a window from nine stories high.” The man paused for a moment before sighing softly and reaching his hand into his brown jacket pocket. A Browning model 1910 pistol emerged. “I’m so sorry, but you must underst–” Bessie was cut off by the clicks of the weapon being cocked. The man looked up from the gun and directly at Bessie. He quickly raised his arm, pointed the gun and shot.

GETTING SICK

September 12, 1907 “Time to go to the doctor Bessie. Hurry up! Get something warm on and come downstairs.” Bessie threw a scarf around her neck and walked down the stairs. Bessie had shoulder length dark brown hair that always seemed to be in perfect order. Bessie was about 5 4,” fairly thin, about 100 pounds and in relatively good athletic shape. She had beautiful green eyes and long dark eyelashes. Bessie was a bit rebellious at times but was loved by all who knew her. Very mature for her age, she was often mistaken for being older than sixteen years. “How do I look? Do I look sick?” “No, you look good, I’m sure its nothing anyway, just a common cold,” replied Bessie’s mother Emily Harris.

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Emily Harris was a loving mother. Bessie resembled her in a lot of ways, always happy and optimistic about everything. Bessie’s mother was happily married to Nathan Harris whom was also Bessie’s loving father. He was kind and gentle, but was also very strict when he needed to be. He was a tall, thin man, who was at times very intimidating. Nathan was very wealthy. He had inherited money from his uncle who was a wealthy Jewish banker from New York City. He decided after recieving his inheritance to team up with a dear friend Mark Weidman and his company in specializing in dealing and exporting of scrap metal, bottles, rags etc. “Is everyone ready?” “Yes father,” replied Bessie as they walked out the front door of their house in Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada. It was a cold, snowy day outside. Winnipeg temperatures generally remain below 0°C in the winter and are usually dry and windy. Winnipeg is one of the largest cities in Canada and home to a large Jewish community. Everyone in the neighborhood knew of the Harris family, especially since Bessie had become

GETTING SICK

very popular in school. Freshman year of high school Bessie met and fell in love with Adam West, a senior at Winnipeg School for Boys. Adam was also very popular throughout school and was one of the best athletes of the fifty boys enrolled there. Adam was tall and slender, not unlike Bessie’s father, and had short brown hair, which was usually covered by his grey Gatsby hat. He worked for a small branch of a garment company in Winnipeg named the Triangle Silk Waist Company, which specialized in making womens clothing and wedding dresses. He was quickly working his way up the chain of command, much to the liking of Bessie’s father whom encouraged the relationship. “Hurry up Bessie, we don’t want you to get any sicker than you already are,” shouted Emily. Bessie quickly finished buttoning up her jacket as she walked faster to catch up to her parents. The family’s doctor’s office was just down the street a couple of blocks. Bessie had a cough for some time now and recently started having fatigue during the day followed by cold sweats at night. Bessie frequently had chest pains while active with

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her friends at school. When they arrived at the doctor’s office the receptionist asked them to have a seat. Bessie sat restlessly for a couple of minutes before the nurse grabbed her attention. “Miss Harris? We’re ready for you.” Bessie slowly walked to the back of the office as the doctor turned around. “What seems to be the problem Miss?”

BEN

October 30, 1907 Dear Dr. The bearer of this letter, Miss Bessie Harris has been a patient in this hospital for some time now, suffering from pneumonia. This did not clear up as well as it should have, and her temperature has never seemed to go down. We are not absolutely sure that it is in fact pneumonia as it may be Mycobacterium tuberculosis. We advised her to go to a less rigorous climate and suggested Colorado. She decided to take our advice and come to us for a letter of recommendation for your institute. We wish her good treatment at your hospital, which we are hopeful. Yours truly, Dr. Larson; Winnipeg General Hospital

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;Please fill out this form and bring it to the front desk when you are done.â&#x20AC;? Bessie took the application and began to fill it out on top of one of her notebooks she brought with her. The top of the form read: Application to the executive committee of the Jewish Consumptive Relief Society, Denver, Colorado. She filled out all the information on the form, along with her letter of recommendation from Dr. Larson and her letter of introduction and brought it inside a large brick building standing at the front of the sanatorium complex. Bessie managed to crack open the large wood door at the front of the building and snuck through before it shut back on her. As she entered the building, she suddenly felt very alone. Everything in the building was stark white. The walls were white and the floors were very clean. It was extremely quiet and it felt very alien to Bessie, as Winnipeg General was always bustling with activity and doctors walking about franticly. Bessie paced about twenty meters straight and stepped up a small case of stairs to a giant desk, which seemed like a

BEN

throne to the hospital; sitting directly ahead of the main entry doors on atop of a pedestal. Bessie stood in front of the desk uncomfortably looking around at her surroundings until the secretary came out of a room behind the desk. Bessie stepped closer and handed her the forms. “Thank you Miss, we will arrange and secure you a room as soon as possible, but it will probably take at least a week. There is a gentleman and his wife in Denver who takes care of and houses future patients until we can arrange a room for them. I will give you his name and address, if you just get in contact with him he will gladly take you into his home.” “Okay that would be nice, I really don’t know anyone in Colorado quite yet,” Bessie said quietly. “Great, their names are Ernest and Emily Dawson. They are very kind and we have always heard great things about their hospitality and kindness. They will let you stay with him for as long as you need, but strongly advise guests to find alternate housing if they will not be moving in at the JCRS within a few weeks. This way they can accommodate larger amounts of

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people at their home when they need it.” “I can hope to have a room here within a couple of weeks, right?” Bessie asked as she took a small piece of paper from the secretary with the name and address of the couple’s home. “Yes, I’m sure it should not take long,” the secretary said in a reassuring voice. “Excuse me ma’am, is this where I turn in my application?” Startled, Bessie quickly turned to her right. She hadn’t noticed someone had walked up next to her. “Yes. Is everything filled out?” asked the secretary. “I believe so.” The man handed his papers to the woman behind the desk. “Are you going to be a patient here also?” the man asked as he turned to Bessie who still looked surprised. “Yes I just turned in my application, so hopefully I will start treatment soon enough,” replied Bessie with a sudden jump in her voice. “Yea me too, although I do hate hospitals. They are so sterile and ugly aren’t they? No offense Miss,” he said as he glanced over at the secretary bearing an annoyed look on her face.

BEN

“My name is Ben Blanck, nice to meet you.” Ben was an average sized guy. He had long dark black hair, which was slicked back behind his ears. He was very well dressed. He wore a dark suit jacket and black dress pants. His shoes looked like they had been recently polished, and out of his jacket pocket dangled a gold chain, which was undoubtedly attached to a fine pocket watch. Ben had a friendly smile and his eyes glowed a very bright blue, which in the daylight appeared almost unreal. “Nice to meet you too, my name is Bessie.” Bessie was a little nervous to meet Ben since he was virtually the first person she had met in Colorado. “Say, would you like to join me in exploring the campus and a few of the buildings here?” asked Ben nervously, putting his hands in his pockets. “Yea, sure, that would be nice. I could use some company,” Bessie said as she too put her hands in her pocket. The two walked out into the courtyard area and circled the buildings and cabins surrounding the commons area. Much to Bessie’s surprise she learned that Ben was 21 years

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old, a year younger than Adam. She was sure that he had to be much older, as he seemed to be an accomplished businessman of some sort. “So what do you do for a living?” asked Bessie casually as they walked passed the Sanatoriums’ looming water tower and started heading back for the main building on the west side of the small complex. “I work half the year for my father who is a successful business man in New York,” Ben said quietly in an uncomfortable tone. Bessie got the feeling he didn’t really like talking about work so she quickly changed the subject. “So how long have you been in Colorado for?” Bessie asked. “Oh, about six months or so. I moved out here after I was diagnosed with tuberculosis. I was told that elevation and this beautiful Colorado weather could help me, but my illness hasn’t been severe enough to become a patient here until the last couple of weeks. How about you, Bessie?” “I just arrived here today actually. I don’t have a residence here or anything, but I was told to get in touch with this gentleman in Denver, as he houses future patients of the

BEN

hospital until they can get situated. Although it could be a little uncomfortable for the first couple of days since I haven’t even met him yet.” “I know we just met but you are always welcome to stay at my house, I have an extra bedroom that is not being used. And I have a caretaker on duty at all hours so she can help with anything you might need.” “Well, I don’t kn–” “You would have home-cooked meals every night.” “Well, that does sound nice, are you sure you–” “Yes, of course. I’m not trying to be pushy, but I could benefit from having some company around you know,” Ben said smiling kindly at Bessie. “Well, alright, I’m sure I will only be a burden for a few days until the hospital has room for me, and I will surely move out if you get admitted before me.” “Great! I think this will be a good arrangement for both of us. It will be nice to have a friend here in Denver to visit with to keep our spirits up.”

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Bessie and Ben spent the whole rest of the day together walking around chatting about their childhood experiences. Ben and Bessie both, in their own discrete ways, shared that their spouses were both in other states, Benâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s fiancĂŠ in New York, Adam in Winnipeg, and that they were very loyal, and as it was nice to be friends, but that would be all that they were.

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November 5, 1907 “Bessie, I have to go out of town for a few days to help out with an emergency in New York. My Father and Uncle need me there to help with some internal conflicts within the company. I think I will make the trip alright with my condition, but I will not be gone long,” Ben exclaimed as he walked into his two story house on the 22nd block of Lawrence Street. “Uh–alright, it’s a pretty big emergency?” asked Bessie calmly as she walked into the front living room. “Yes, I’m afraid so, and I must attend to it,” Ben said, stuffing his brown leather bag full of clothes. Ben seemed very anxious and hurried to pack up and leave. “My caretaker will be sure to prepare your meals and make sure that you are comfortable.”

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“Okay, that will be fine. I wasn’t sure how I was going to ask you this but I am expecting a couple guests to come see me in a few days, Adam and my friend Rose from Winnipeg, and I was going to enquire about them possibly being able to stay here at your house for a few days, if that might be all right. If not, they can surely be accommodated at a hotel here in the area.” “Yes of course, my house is your house for the time being. Your friends are welcome to stay here until I get back. I wont be gone for too long and I‘m sure the sanatorium will have rooms available for the both of us by the time I get back.” Bessie let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had been nervous asking him about this for the last few days, but she promised Adam and Rose before she left Winnipeg that they could come see how she was doing and see to it that she got comfortably moved into the sanatorium. Rose and Adam arrived late in the afternoon of the next day. Bessie made her way down to Union station, only a few blocks away to greet them. She waited what seemed to be an eternity until almost everyone had gotten off the train. She finally saw

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Adam appear from the door of the train and walk down the steps. Bessie was very excited to see Adam, as he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time from work. Adam picked her up off her feet and swung her around in a circle. Bessie was not feeling good enough for such excitement, but didn’t want to ruin the moment and remained quiet. Rose quickly ran and gave a hug to her frail friend. “How are you? How do you like Colorado so far?” Rose asked in an almost panicked voice. “Its beautiful here and always seems to be nice outside. I haven’t been here long, and haven’t moved in the sanatorium yet, but I think I like it so far. The gentleman I am staying with is a very nice man. He too is waiting to be admitted into the sanatorium. He said you are more than welcome to be guests in his home for a few days. His caretaker will be sure that you are fed at all times and have a comfortable stay here in Colorado.” Bessie was confident that they would be impressed with where she had secured a place to stay. The three friends soon left Union Station on the late Saturday afternoon and

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settled their things in at Mr. Blancks’ residence. “So how are things at home?” Bessie asked as they sat down at the antique maple dining table. “Things are fine, you know kind of the same as they have always been. We got another telephone in the neighborhood this past week!” exclaimed Rose. “Down at Mr. Clarks store.” “That’s fantastic.” Bessie did not sound too excited. She was already missing home and didn’t feel well that day. She was very tired and was having a little trouble breathing. “What’s the matter?” Adam asked concerned, slowly putting his hand on her lower back. “I just don’t feel well today. If I get a little bit of rest I think I will feel better soon enough. But how is work going Adam?” “Its actually going great, we are busier than ever. I am now the assistant manager at the Silk Factory. I handle most of our sales and imports of silk materials. Most of my job now is based around the raw materials of the shirts and dresses, not the real production and sewing of the garments. I think we have a real steady grip there, at the Winnipeg branch anyway.”

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“That’s great Adam! Why, what’s going on in the branch?” asked Rose as she huddled further over the table. “I’m not exactly sure, I was contacted two days ago by telephone by the manager in our New York branch, I believe his name was Max, Max–something, but he informed me of a massive strike by the women factory workers. I guess it had begun with a spontaneous walkout there at the New York Branch. Max was just inquiring about our branch and if there had been any problems or strikes by our workers. I informed him that everything was okay here and if need be, I can try to assist him. He told me that the situation would be under control soon, but he would be in contact if it escalated,” Adam said with a concerned tone. Bessie knew he was worried the strikes in New York might affect his branch.

JCRS

November 12, 1907 Dr. Weidman, Corn. King & Jarvis St. Winnipeg, Manitoba. Dear Dr. Weidman, Miss Bessie Harris came into our office about two weeks ago, and presented her letter of introduction. I was anxious to procure for her at once a place where she could remain for a couple of days before we were able to provide a room here for her at the sanatorium. I gave her the address of a gentleman who I am in the habit of sending people whom come to Denver for their health and whom, together with his wife, take good care of such people until they have a place to live here at the sanatorium. I telephoned to the gentleman that he shall prepare a room for her and should take the best care of her. This was in the morning.

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In the afternoon I called again to see how Miss Harris was doing and he informed me that he had not heard from her yet. On the following day I again telephoned the gentleman and he, still, had not heard form Miss Harris. I did not know what to do or where to find her. I made several efforts to locate her, but without results. Yesterday Miss Kaichen, superintendent of the Jewish Relief Society called on me and stated that Miss Harris applied to her for reliefâ&#x20AC;Śthis astonished me greatly. I did not know what to make of it. I have asked Miss Kaichen to communicate with Miss Harris and to ask her to come to my office so that I could have a talk with her. I could not for the life of me understand why the girl did not go where I sent her and why she did not contact my office. I distinctly told her to go to that place to rest and we would contact her there when we found a suitable room for her here and admit her as soon as possible. I write the above with the purpose of stating to you the facts as they are. Sincerely yours, secretary, Jewish Consumptive Relief Society. Edgewater, Colorado.

JCRS

“Ben! Great to see you! How was your trip?” asked Bessie as she was sitting at her brown chair facing out the window. “It was fine. We got the situation handled out there. I’m just glad to see you here in the hospital.” “Yeah, did you get my note I left on your front door? My friends were here for only three days until I decided to check back in with the hospital, and they told me that they had been trying to get a hold of me, and that they had had a room ready for me for a couple of days prior.” “Yes, that’s great,” said Ben in a soft tone. Ben had come to check in at the hospital to see if they had room available for him soon. The hospital had informed him that a room was coming available early next week. “So are your friends still here in Colorado?” “No, Adam had to leave to go back to work yesterday after I was admitted here and Rose rode back with him.” Bessie had a certain cheer to her voice. Perhaps she was just happy to be in the hospital and to start her treatment. “Okay Miss Harris time for your nap,” a soft voice said

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seemingly out of nowhere. The doctor had quietly walked in the small visitors room while her and Ben were catching up. The doctor, Dr. Spivak, had short dark hair with a few grays in it, as the doctor looked to be pushing his mid-fifties. He wore a long white jacket with the front pocket stuffed full of pens. Grey pants crept out the bottom of his jacket which connected to newly polished black leather shoes. “Today you are going to be out on the balcony to enjoy this fresh Colorado air. It will be good for you,” said Dr. Spivak. “Okay, well, it was great seeing you, I do hope you will be joining me here soon, most people aren’t too friendly so I have nobody to complain about the awful food to,” Bessie said. Ben saw the smile and Bessie’s face and agreed he would be joining her very soon at the hospital.

JCRS

January 7, 1908 “So when do you think they will let you out?” asked Bessie. “At the rate I’m going lately, probably not real soon,” said Ben in a hoarse tone. Ben had a very difficult time breathing on that early Tuesday morning. There was a long, silent pause as the two looked out at the horizon from the outside patio of the main building on the sanatorium. Beyond the sanatorium complex, was a beautiful view of the Colorado plains. Ben and Bessie, along with five other patients were lying in their beds having a heliotherapy session. Heliotherapy is the practice of getting as much sunlight and fresh air as possible. Doctors thought this was one of the best ways to help cure Pulmonary Tuberculosis and improve general health. “I’m sure you will be out of here soon enough and back on a

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train to New York.” Bessie came to know Ben very well from day to day, but he has never been one to open up and let her in on his past, especially when it came to work. “Well, when we are both out of here you will have to show me around New York. I don’t remember the Statue of Liberty. I was too young when my family and I came to America.” “I would love to.” Ben looked her straight in the eye and she knew that he had all the intention in the world to find her again sometime when they were well. “Adam wrote me and told me that he might have a prospective job out in New York,” said Bessie. “I think it would be very exciting to live in New York. Maybe Adam will ask me to marry him and we can start a family out there someday.” “I love it out there,” Ben exclaimed. “You don’t have the beautiful views and fresh Colorado weather like you do here, but there is something exciting about it, no?” “It does sound great…”

JCRS

March 28, 1908 “Mr. Blanck, how are you today?” asked a low voice. “I feel pretty good actually,” Ben said as he turned away from the window. Ben liked to walk to the farthest building on the east side of the campus and stare out the window at the birds nesting in the trees. The building was built as a circular shape and bore big windows almost all the way around. Today there were no patient beds in the building as it was being repainted. Ben turned away from the window to face the Doctor. Dr. Spivak had a slight grin on his face, as he was busy writing on his clipboard, which had Ben’s file attached. “Ben, it is my and the rest of the doctors opinion that you are now well enough to leave this hospital. You have been steadily better for the last month and we see no reason to keep you.”

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“Oh, thanks Doc! I haven’t felt this good in years.” “Well good, although there could always be a chance of it developing again. I recommend you keep eating as you have here, and that you get plenty of fresh air. Oh, and as much as possible, try to keep out of a stressful environment. Maybe go home and get settled for a couple weeks before going back to work,” said Dr. Spivak as he signed the bottom of the form and handed it to Ben who was smiling gleefully. “Yes, I will certainly do that. I don’t want this dreadful plague of mine coming back to visit again.” “Great, bring this form to Miss Kaichen at the front desk and she will start the paperwork for your release.” “Thank you again Spivak for everything these last four months, you have been a tremendous help,” Ben said as he happily shook the doctors hand.

JCRS

March 29, 1908 “I’m so happy for you, Ben. I knew that you would get out of here before me,” Bessie exclaimed. “You will be out of here soon enough, Bessie. You seem like you are feeling better and better every day.” “Well I hope so, because I am ready to leave here and be together again with Adam.” Bessie seemed relatively optimistic considering her only real friend from the hospital has just been discharged out of her life. “And when you get out, you will have to come out to New York to see me,” said Ben as he clenched her hand. Ben had come to see Bessie out on the front patio before he left. She was in her small single bed in the middle of her heliotherapy session. “Yes, I would very much like that,” Bessie said as she looked up

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at Ben. Her eyes started to tear and Ben reached down and gave Bessie a hug. As he pulled away, he slipped Bessie a five-dollar bill. “Take this, the train to New York can be very expensive,” Ben said with a smirk on his face. “Well, I’m headed back to New York. I think I’m going to take a couple of weeks to get settled before I go back to work.” Ben threw on his black hat, turned around and walked back into the building. “See you soon, Bessie.” “Good luck Ben,” Bessie said as she watched him enter back into the building and out of her life.

DISCHARGED

May 20, 1908 “Ms. Harris, Ms. Harris, its time for your nap,” said the Nurse as she was walked outside towards Bessie, who was standing out in the grass taking in the beautiful scenery. “Okay, I’m coming,” Bessie said in an almost whispered tone. Bessie slowly turned around and started heading into the building. When she got in her room, Bessie let out a deep sigh and laid down in her bed. Bessie had grown tired of being here at the JCRS. Bessie had been feeling better for almost a month now and felt that she no longer needed the services of the doctors and nurses. Even though she did not feel very tired, Bessie closed her eyes and began to fall asleep. “Bessie, dear? Wake up, its time for your supper,” said the nurse as she tapped Bessie on the shoulder.

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“Huh?” Bessie slowly opened her eyes. She had slept for a few hours, much more than she expected to be asleep for. “Oh, okay. Let me get ready I will be down in a few minutes.” When Bessie had finally gotten up and ready for dinner, most of the healthier patients had already gathered across the quad in the small brick building that housed the kitchen and the cafeteria. Tonight was steak night. Bessie loved steak night, and she felt especially hungry since she didn’t eat very much for lunch. Bessie’s appetite had been growing for some time now. Most of the other patients, while being healthy enough to walk to the cafeteria did not have much of an appetite. Since Bessie would actually eat from time to time, sometimes she felt she stood out among the other patients, which tended to make her a little self-conscious. After a wonderful meal, she and her favorite nurse Madeline strolled back to her room and had a talk about how she was feeling. Madeline told her to try and talk to Dr. Spivak and see how much longer she had to be at the sanatorium. “Well, thank you for listening, I hope Dr. Spivak has some good

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news for me,” Bessie told Madeline in an optimistic tone. “Yes, me too, Bessie. We will get you out of here. To me, you seem to have recovered almost fully. Although Dr. Spivak and the other doctors will have the final say. For now, try not to think about it and get some rest, maybe the doc can have a talk with you tomorrow.” “Okay great, thank you so much,” said Bessie as Madeline opened the door to her room. “Goodnight Bessie.” “Goodnight.” Bessie closed the door with a smile on her face, in hope she would soon leave the JCRS. The next morning, while Bessie was enjoying her scrambled eggs and toast, Madeline quickly walked up to the table with a folded note for Bessie. She quickly took the note and read, Ms. Harris, please meet me in my office this afternoon at noon today as I wish to discuss your health. -Dr. Spivak.

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Bessie quickly looked up from the note and saw a glimmer in Madeline’s eye. Bessie didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but she had a good feeling that the visit was going to be good news. At ten minutes until noon, Bessie just couldn’t wait any longer. She started walking down from her room to Dr. Spivak’s office. This was only about a thirty-second walk, but Bessie didn’t care if she was a little early, she just couldn’t wait. When Bessie got to the door, she gave a great sigh, tried to look as alert and happy as she could, and opened the door. “Ms. Harris, nice to see you, good afternoon,” said Spivak in an assertive voice. “Good afternoon to you, Doctor. I got your note this morning at breakfast.” Bessie spoke as clearly and boldly as she could. “Yes, yes, well how are we feeling?” “I have been feeling really good lately.” “Yes? I spoke to Madeline and she said that you have been feeling well for a while, which I have certainly observed,” the doctor said as he fiddled with his pen that layed on top of Bessie’s file. “And you have been regaining your appetite?”

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“Yes definitely, I have been eating like a horse!” exclaimed Bessie, trying to get a rise out of the doctor, although he did not seem amused. “Well then, everything from my observations and studies over the last few weeks have shown that you are now doing very well, and it is probably time you leave here.” Doctor Spivak started to grin as he saw the smile appear on Bessie’s face. “Oh, yes I agree, thank you, thank you!” “Now, we will keep you overnight and give a you a couple weeks to gather your things and get ready to move on wherever you need to go, which I assume is back to Winnipeg?” “Yes, I will arrange for a train ride back to Winnipeg, and I should not need to stay here longer than a couple of days.” Bessie was now glowing with happiness. “Good, well we will get the paperwork ready for your departure, and we will continue to write or phone you over the next few months to see how you are doing,” said Dr. Spivak as he started to put Bessie’s papers back in her file. “Just take it easy, pack your things and we will take care of the rest.”

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“Thank you so much, you have been a great help to me and it couldn’t be more appreciated,” Bessie said as she turned around, opened the door and headed back to her room. Bessie felt like skipping. She immediately phoned back to Winnipeg to tell Adam and her family the good news and that she was on her way home.

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May 22, 1908 “All Aboard!” yelled the train conductor as Bessie was climbing the small steps up into the cabin of the second to last car of the train. Union Station seemed particularly full that day. Although she felt great, she was quick to cover her nose and mouth with her jacket to shield herself from the fumes lingering around the train station. Bessie quickly found the first open seat on the train and sat down. She was so excited to leave she could not stop smiling, and before she knew it the train had begun to move. After several stops and four days later, Bessie stepped off the train and back onto her hometown Winnipeg soil. “Bessie! Hey over here!” Bessie heard her name the minute she stepped down the stairs from the train. She quickly looked

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up and saw Adam dressed in his finest dark gray suit with beautiful flowers in hand. Next to Adam was Bessie’s mother, Emily, who looked to have tears running down her face. “Welcome home sweetie!” exclaimed Emily as she leaned in to give Bessie a hug. “Your father couldn’t make it to the station today as he is getting over the flu at home,” she said letting go of her overwhelming grasp around Bessie. Adam quickly handed Emily the flowers and also gave Bessie a big hug. “Oh, well I hope he’s better soon and I can see him! I’m just so happy to see both of you and to be home again. I promise I will never get sick again,” Bessie smirked as she grabbed for Adam’s hand. Bessie’s mother looked into Bessie’s eyes and saw that everything could now go back to normal. “Let’s get you home,” said Adam as they turned around and walked away from the train station.

DISCHARGED

June 25, 1908 Miss Harris 685 Prichard Ave. Winnipeg, Man. Can. My Dear Miss Harris, I am greatly interested in you and would like to know how you are feeling at present. We like to keep track of our ex-patients and would be greatly pleased to receive a good report from you. If it is not too much trouble for you, I would appreciate a report from you at an early date. Sincerely yours, Secretary.

DISCHARGED

July 3, 1908 The Jewish Consumptives Relief Society 1421 Court place, Denver, Colorado. D. Spivak. Dear Sir, After reviewing your letter, I am very pleased that you are so interested in Miss Harris. As regards I may say that she kept for the last month very well, and then she had a slight hemorrhage, so I sent her to Winnipeg Beach where the climate is very good. If you could tell me what would be the best treatment for her case I would be very much obliged. I might say that I am going to marry Miss Harris as soon as her health permits. As you wrote as a friend of Miss Harris, I would be very pleased if you would tell me if there is any danger if she marries. If you would

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send me your wifeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s measurements, I should be very pleased to send her a suite that I make here, as I am very pleased of you remembering Miss Harris. Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain, yours very sincerely, Adam West.

DISCHARGED

July 14, 1908 Dear A. West, 401 Stanley Circle., Winnipeg, Man. CAN. I will say that it is nearly impossible to outline a treatment for Miss Harris at such a distance. All I can say in general would be that she remain outdoors as much as possible, that she should be placed amidst cheerful surroundings, that her diet should be nutritious, and anything that can irritate or excite her should be removed. As to her marriage I would urge upon her and upon you that it should be postponed as long as possible. She can only then marry, be happy and make you happy when her disease will be absolutely arrested. Please send regards to Miss Harris. Sincerely yours, Secretary.

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March 14, 1911 “You’re home early,” said Bessie as she walked down the stairs of their new home. Bessie and Adam had only been in their little house down by the river for a few months, as they moved after the wedding. It was a beautiful celebration in which both sides of the family saw as closure to Bessie’s sickness and a start to their new life together. “Yea, I thought it might be a good time to celebrate,” exclaimed Adam as he took off his jacket, grabbed Bessie’s hand and took her over to the couch. “I recieved a phone call today from my head boss Max, who runs the Silk Waist branch in New York. He said that he has been having some trouble back there with some of the workers striking, especially since that spontaneous walkout two years ago. He said that he needed

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a new man in charge of supervising and improving relations with the workers there. He said he could use me indefinitely, especially since the branch here has always been on track with our workers.” Adam was more excited than Bessie can ever remember, except for maybe the wedding. “That’s great Adam, this means we get to move to New York?” “Well, yes, actually this may seem a little–’’ “When does the job start?” Bessie asked suddenly. “I already told him I would do it, so technically I already have the job. He said as quick as I can get out there is when he needs me, but he preferred I start the first week of April.” “That’s great Adam! We are going to be New Yorkers!” exclaimed Bessie as she threw her arms around Adam. “Really, you’re not upset?” “No, I think it seems sudden, but I have always wanted to live in the big city. But any other city and I would have been furious!” Bessie said sarcastically. “Well I’m so glad you’re so happy. We can put the house up for sale while we are in New York looking for our new home!

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My Boss told me of a hotel in the city by the factory with cheap prices so we could afford to stay for as long as we need.” “I will miss Winnipeg and my family but I think it’s time we move out on our own and not always have our parents around for a change.” Bessie said. Adam knew that Bessie had been a little annoyed lately with her parents always being around and constantly worried about her since the hemorrhage. She was glad they were so concerned, but she felt she needed a change for a while, enough if it only turned out to be temporary. “Well pack up. Let’s get out of here,” Adam exclaimed as he winked at his wife.

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March 24, 1911 “Watch your step dear,” Adam said in an assertive tone as he stuck out his hand for Bessie to grab. Bessie grabbed him and stepped down onto the sidewalk. This particular sidewalk which Bessie was standing, was the sidewalk in front of the Asch Building at the intersection of Greene street and Washington place, which was just east of Washington Square in New York City. This building was the home of the main branch of the Triangle Silk Waist Factory. It was a large brick building typical of the others on the surrounding blocks, reaching ten stories high. Today, the tenth story was Adam and Bessie’s destination, which is the floor where administration offices were located, primarily the office of Adam’s new Boss.

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“Ladies first,” Adam said with a smile on his face as he pulled open the large wood door to the factory. Bessie and Adam entered the building. As they entered, they noticed a very faint yet unpleasant smell. “It smells like the gymnasium back in Winnipeg,” declared Bessie as they walked toward the small elevator, which was located at the back wall slightly to the right of the entrance. As they approached the golden elevator, the door slowly opened and two men emerged. The first man out was a man of average height, although he had a slight pudge to him. He had a large black wool coat in his hand, was dressed in a fine black suite and sported a black Biltmore hat. The other man was of smaller stature and had dress pants and a vest on. Adam instantly knew the first man was who he needed to see, as the other was clearly just the elevator boy. The bigger man walked out from the elevator with certain assertiveness, came up to Adam and sure enough held out his hand. “You must be Adam,” the man said in a steady low tone. “My name is Max Blanck, pleasure to meet you.”

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“No sir the pleasure is all mine,” replied Adam as he grasped Max’s hand and firmly shook it. “I’m very pleased at how quickly you could be here in New York ready to start this fine job opportunity. I think you will like it here and I’m sure you will enjoy the pay raise. This must be–” “Bessie, it is, I am very pleased to meet you. We have both been very excited to come to New York,” she exclaimed as she quickly shook Max’s hand. “Wow Adam, she is lovely, don’t let this one get away.” “Oh, I won’t sir I can promise that,” Adam replied as they headed into the open elevator. “Floor ten boy,” said Max as the boy shut the door and turned the lever to the right. Suddenly the elevator began to move. A few seconds later, as the boy opened the door, Adam saw three doors in front of him. As he glanced across the three doors, he came to the third one on the right, and noticed his name printed on the glass. “Wow, I already have my own office set up? That’s terrific Max!” Adam was very excited at this point. He quickly walked into

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his office and began to take a look around. The office was not big by any means, but it had a generous sized window and had a great view of the New York skyline. The building itself looked relatively old and beat up. The hardwood floors had been scuffed and scratched over the years and there were scraps of materials scattered throughout the hallway, which seemed surprising especially since none of the materials or sweatshops were located on the tenth floor. “Does this look satisfying to you, Adam?” asked Max putting his hands on his hips. Max reached into his pocket and grabbed his pocket watch and looked at the time. “Three thirty. I have to be to a meeting soon, but would you like me to give you the grand tour?” “Yes, that would be great, I should probably see what I’m dealing with here, so I can get my hands dirty,” said Adam as he smiled and glanced over at Bessie who still seemed to be mesmerized by the view from the window. “Come on dear, we are going to take the grand tour.” Max led the way out of the office. Soon they came to a closed door.

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Max reached back into his pocket, but this time he came out with his set of keys. Max unlocked and opened the door to reveal a set of stairs. Bessie glanced over at Adam with a puzzled look on her face. Max noticed that the two seemed to wonder why the door to the stairs had been locked. “We’ve had a history of theft by garment workers throughout the years, so we decided to lock all of the doors to the staircases, so they are not to escape. I know it seems harsh, but I assure you it is for everyone’s good. It discourages the attempt to steal from the company.” Bessie didn’t say anything but Adam knew that she was shocked that theft could have been bad enough to lock the doors to the staircases. Upon descending to the ninth floor, they came to a great big set of wooden doors and yet again Max took out his keychain and unlocked the door. This time, Bessie and Adam were growing concerned that all the doors were locked with the people working inside. “Come on in. Here is kind of the typical setup. You have the seamstresses on the sewing machines assembling the fabric

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that the two men here on the left are measuring and cutting. But I assume since you have worked at the Winnipeg branch for several years now, you are very educated on how these kind of processes work.â&#x20AC;? Max was now yelling over the defening sounds of the sewing machines. He slowly turned to face Bessie and Adam, only to see a look of shock upon their faces. There were about one hundred young females working the sewing machines who all looked to be no older than fourteen years of age. Their clothes were filthy, as was their faces, but even worse looked their hands. The room was very narrow and deep with a seemingly endless amount of sewing machines butted up side by side on worktables that stretched towards the far side of the room. The wood floor were completely covered with scraps from material and fabric, which looked as if they had never been picked up. The windows lead to the rusted, deteriorating fire escapes, which had been blocked off by desks and cabinets. The eerie lighting of the room was provided by open gas lighting, which seemed a dangerous fire hazard. None of these things disturbed Adam and Bessie

NEW YORK

more than the stench of the room. It smelled of a landfill and cigarette smoke. The room was very hot and muggy, which was bad for a few workers to stand; not to mention all the young girls they had cramped so tightly in the room. In addition to the workers, there was maybe two to three men supervising, making sure that everyone was working at all times. “Are these normal working conditions for these people?” asked Adam in a solemn voice. “Yes Adam, they are workers, I provide a job for them, I feed their families and give them a chance in this world,” said Max defensively. This greatly angered Adam and Bessie. “How long have these girls been here for?” asked Bessie. “Well, the particular girls in this room are starting their second full shift today and I have been generous enough to have them work as long as they can,” smirked Max. By this time Max had a disturbing hint of a smile on his face. “How can you–” Adam grabbed Bessie’s shoulder hinting to to be quiet before she could burst out the rest. “Do we have a problem?” Max asked in a suddenly raised voice.

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“No, no problem here at all,” said Adam slowly as he stared out at the room. Adam had no intention of letting this go, but he did not want to get into an argument in front of Bessie. “Shall we continue the tour?” asked Max as he raised his hand palm-up; signaling a move back to the stairs. “No I don’t believe that will be necessary, thank you.” Furious, Adam and Bessie turned around to let themselves out. “I will have to let you two out of the building myself,” Max said waving his keys in the air pretentiously. They knew they would not be able to leave without him. They waited for him to lead the way. “You know we could really use you around here, Adam. The pay is good and I know you need money to finance a new home here in the city. “Mr. Blanck, it goes without saying that I think what you are doing here is highly immoral and sick. I didn’t think a professional man of your level would sink as low as this. Let me guess, you probably pay these girls barely enough to just to survive from day to day. Maybe six or seven dollars a week? Yes that would be great for you, they can’t afford to

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quit, so they will do anything, and put up with these barbaric conditions until you put them back out on the streets, is that right?” Adam asked now staring contently back at Max. “I am a man of business,” Max said as he threw Adam his keys before reaching into his pocket pulling out his watch. “You see this, this is a 24karat gold pocket watch, I own three buildings here in New York City. Tonight I’ll go home to my three story house and my butler, who will serve a feast like every other night. It is not a crime to have money, Adam. It is not a crime to pursuit wealth at any cost so that I don’t end up like one of these–these peasants at a sewing machine.” “You sicken me,” replied Adam as he grabbed Bessie’s hand and started heading towards the door. “You have a choice Adam. You can be at top, where people will respect and serve you, or you can be at the bottom with the them,” Max yelled pointing to the workers. Adam and Bessie both stormed out of the room. “Oh, and be kind enough to leave the keys with the elevator boy!” Max yelled now at the top of his lungs.

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“What should we do?” asked Bessie frantically while practically leaping down the stairs. “We’re going to alert the authorities. What they are doing is wrong and I want no part in it. We are coming back here tomorrow to give my official resignation, and turn them in for inhumane treatment and exploitation of labor.”

TRAGEDY

March 25, 1911 “Maybe you should go over to that little café while I go talk to Max,” Adam said to Bessie as their cabriolet arrived in front of the towering Asch building late Saturday afternoon, near the end of the workers shift. “Adam, I want to come. At least let me alert the police of what is going on here.” “Okay, we can both tell the police once I talk to Max and get this all straightened out. Please just wait inside until I come and get you,” Adam said calmly as he nodded in the direction of the corner café at the end of the block. “Okay, I’ll wait, but if you take too long I’m coming on to see what’s going on,” Bessie said with a concerned face. “Okay fair enough, I will be back in a few minutes. Please do

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not worry,” Adam said as he let go of Bessies’ sweaty hand and walked through the entrance of the building. Just as Adam walked through the door, another man who he had never seen before came to greet him. This man was about of average height and leaner physique. He seemed to be rather young, about as old as Adam, perhaps in his lower thirties. He had long black hair, neatly slicked back behind his ears, which contrasted with his bright blue eyes. He wore a dark black suit jacket and dress pants that ran down to newly polished black leather shoes. The man had a gold chain that hung out of his jacket pocket. No more than a second after Adam saw him, he was he certain this had to be Maxs’ partner in business. “Your name is Adam, correct?” the man asked as he quickly approached Adam standing the front door. “Yes, have you been expecting me?” Adam asked hesitantly. “Yes, my father and I would like to negotiate your job at this company, as we know you can do great things here.” “Thank you, no. I know I made it clear to your father that I do not agree with your business practices here and I want no

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part in it,” Adam replied in a stern voice. “Well why don’t you come upstairs then so we can get your formal resignation,” The man proposed with an especially friendly smile considering the situation. The two men walked to the elevator and arrived to the tenth floor after a moment spent in awkward silence. “Adam! Great to see you boy!” arrogantly shouted a man from across the hall as the elevator door opened. As soon as Adam stepped away from the golden doors of the elevators, he realized it was Max Blanck. “So, boy,” he yelled, “have you made your decision? Are you with us? Or with the peasants?” “Those workers are the reason you have your riches and security. You have taken advantage of young girls, not to mention, I’m sure, immigrant girls and put them to work in your factories for little or no pay and inhumane working conditions. I would never work for a man without a heart.” “Ah, well I guess that answers my question. Very good by the way, most of the girls come from Italy and Western Europe. I am their only security. This is what you don’t understand.

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They help me out, I help them out.” “All six hundred of them,” added the younger man. “You exploit them,” Adam interjected, “you put them in danger. The windows are blocked, and the doors and staircases are locked. If they did steal from you, it’s only because you have given them so little pay that they are forced to.” “If I am not mistaken, you have worked for the Triangle Silk Waist for years, you should have been fully aware of what was happening here too. Some might see you as being at fault for these working conditions.” Max said in a very threatening tone. “After all you are, as of March 14th, the supervisor in dealing with employee relations.” The two men started to argue and threaten Adam but still he defended the rights of the workers. Meanwhile, in the café across the street, Bessie began to get very nervous about the whole situation, so she decided to go see for herself what was going on. “I decided I needed someone to improve relations with our employees. You can make a difference Adam. With my son’s

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health, I can’t have him taking off work as often as he has to. You can make a difference and improve our relations with the employees,” Max said. He had suddenly changed his tone hoping to receive sympathy from Adam. “You obviously do not care about your workforce, and I will not be the one to blame when these acts catch up with you,” Adam shouted. A few moments later the elevator doors opened in the hallway and quick, light footsteps pattered towards the entrance to the office in which they were standing. Bessie slowly emerged in the doorway to see what was going on. As soon as she looked up at the three men, a look of shock came over her face. “Ben? Is that you?” “Bessie? What are you doing here?” asked Ben in amazement. “You two know each other?” asked Adam stunned as he looked over towards Bessie. “Yes we do, this is Ben Blanck, my friend from the sanatorium. We stayed in his house in Denver,” Bessie replied still shocked. “Why are you here?”

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“He works for me, this is my son and partner in business,” Max declared, also stunned. “Ben Blanck? In relation to Max Blanck, the pig that runs this factory? This is your job? This is your job in New York that you would never speak about? How–how could you Ben, how could you let these things go on here?” Bessie pleaded as tears streamed down her face. Ben remained silent for a few moments before he finally spoke. “How dare you judge me! You barely know me or my father, this is a respectful business and I will not be talked to like that from anyone, especially no woman!” snapped Ben. This was very strange to Bessie. She had never seen Ben like this. He was a totally different person than Bessie knew back at the sanatorium. He was different here. This was business and Bessie could see that was all he cared about. Adam was still shocked that they knew each other this whole time and never realized the connections. He remembered Bessie speaking of Ben as a kind man who would do anything for anyone, not a heartless businessman exploiting workers in

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the name of self-indulgent profit. “Don’t you talk to my wife like that!” yelled Adam. “I can talk however I want! Forget the job, your fired!” shouted Ben as the two threatened men began to inch closer to each other ready to throw-down. “You can’t fire me, I resigned from the position!” “Technically you are still an employee here, we have signed no papers.” Max interjected, crossing his arms. Furious, Adam grabbed Bessie and stormed out into the hallway to contemplate what to do. Upon entering the hallway, Adam and Bessie both noticed a smell. It was certainly something different from the usual stench of the factory. “What is that smell?” asked Bessie looking around the hallway. “It– it smells like smoke,” replied Adam. “Look! There is some coming from under the stairwell door!” They were both very concerned at this point. The argument a few moments ago now had been dwarfed in both their minds. “Look! It’s also coming from the elevator shaft!” Bessie said as they began to investigate the rest of the hallway.

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“There must be a fire!” Adam concluded. “Mr. Blanck! Ben! There’s a fire! Fire!” yelled Adam and Bessie as they came running into Max’s office. “We must get everyone out of the building now!” yelled Bessie. “Fire? Where? Here in the building?” asked Ben. “Yes! We have to go!” screamed Bessie. The five of them ran out of Maxs’ office and began to go down the stairs when they realized there was already smoke and flames coming from the floors below with what looked to be the most intense coming from the eighth floor. Adam screamed at Max to unlock the doors to all the sweatshops, but Max and Ben fled as fast as they could back upstairs, away from the rising flames. “You cowards!” yelled Bessie as her and Adam frantically tried to brake open the ninth story door. They could hear horrified screams coming from the other side. Some of the workers were scratching frantically at the door while others yelled to each other to unblock and climb out the window, which was the only other exit on that floor. Adam and Bessie tried as long

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as they could to open the door without success until the fire screamed up the stairwell and nearly consumed them. They had no choice but to run back up the stairs to the tenth floor. Passing the tenth floor, they found a door leading to the roof, but it was locked just like the others. “Those Bastards! They locked the door behind them!” “Wha–” Bessie started to shout over the deafening noise of the fire below them. “Those bastards are out on the roof, they locked the door behind them! Sons of bitches!” Adam shouted while frantically kicking at the door. But it was no use, the door would not budge. With Bessie leading the way, the two ran back down one flight to the tenth floor. They desperately tried to find another way out of the building. Searching everywhere, they finally saw a glimmer of hope. “Here! I found a window, there’s a fire-escape!” Adam shouted. They quickly cleared the wooden desk blocking the window. Bessie climbed out first, followed shortly by Adam. Bessie was eager to get down, however Adam had a slight fear of heights.

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“Don’t look down Adam, just climb the stairs like you normally would.” Bessie’s encouraging words actually seemed to help Adam greatly until screeching screams were heard coming from the other side of the building. “The screams sound like they are coming from outside the building,” Bessie exclaimed. Adam knew exactly what was happening. He grew quiet and somber as they continued to climb down. By the time they reached about the seventh floor, others had successfully climbed out on the only undamaged fire escape and joined Adam and Bessie. The workers were desperately climbing and jumping down stairs to secure their safety. As soon as they knew it they had worked their way down. Upon arriving back on the ground they saw firefighters scrambling around trying to put out the flames. The police had thrown up a cordon around the area to keep the frantic families and bystanders from attempting to enter the building. By now, the eighth, ninth and tenth stories of the building were completely up in flames. The sound was unbearably loud. “The ladders are too short!” one man hollered. Adam and

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Bessie and the rest of the crowd that had gathered on the streets soon realized it was true. There wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t a ladder long enough to reach above the sixth floor. Both Adam and Bessie began to cry when they saw the bodies on the sidewalk. Adam feared he was right in knowing that the screams which seemed to be outside of the building, in fact were on the outside of the building, as the girls had no choice but to jump. The fire blazed into the setting sun until it was finally under control come nightfall. Astonishingly, after the fire claimed 146 lives and had tamed to safe levels, Max and Ben Blanck were found safe and uninjured on the roof.

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March 26, 1911

The Sunday Tribune: March 26, 1911 New York Fire Kills 148: Girl Victims Leap to Death from Factory On the afternoon of March 25, 1911, a fire began on the eighth floor of the Triangle Waist Factory, possibly sparked by a lit match or a cigarette or because of faulty electrical wiring. The engines running the sewing machines in the building may have started the fire. Most of the workers who were alerted were able to evacuate. However, the warning about the fire did not reach the ninth floor in time. The ninth floor had only two doors leading out. One stairwell was already filling with smoke and flames by the time the seamstresses realized the building was

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on fire. Workers recounted their helpless efforts to open the ninth floor doors to the Washington Place stairs. They and many others afterwards believed they were deliberately lockedâ&#x20AC;&#x201C; owners had frequently locked the exit doors in the past, claiming that workers stole materials. The east exterior fire escape, a flimsy and poorly anchored iron structure, soon twisted and collapsed under the weight of people trying to escape (the exterior fire escape may have already been broken). The elevator also stopped working, cutting off that means of escape, partly because the panicked workers tried to save themselves by jumping down the shaft onto the roof of the elevator. Much to the horror of the large crowd of bystanders gathered on the street, 62 of the women who died did so after realizing there was no other way to avoid the flames except to break the windows and jump to the pavement nine floors below. Of the jumpers, a single survivor was found close to drowning in water collecting in the elevator shaft. The fallen bodies made it difficult for the fire department to reach the building. The company employed approximately 600 workers. Of these 600 workers, 146 bodies have been counted and identified.

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The Asch building structure itself held up very well. The company’s owners, Max Blanck and Ben Blanck, had fled to the building’s roof when the fire began and survived. They among others suspects– including an alleged disgruntled employee who was recently fired, are soon to be put on trial. Max and Ben Blanck have made allegations against Adam and Bessie West of starting the fire after being fired for inhumane treatment of the workers. Adam, who was in charge of the workers during this time, was allegedly disgruntled after being asked to leave the building. Max and Ben Blanck among others believe this was his motive for starting the fire; although no evidence has shown this to be the case as of yet. This tragedy has sparked the forming of unions to help protect the rights, health and safety of workers in the workplace through protective legislation. This fire, dubbed ‘The Triangle Fire’ has tragically illustrated fire inspections and precautions are woefully inadequate. The hearing for the trial is to start in the upcoming weeks, although the people are demanding someone come forward immediately.

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Tears rolled down Bessie’s face after reading the newspaper article the next morning. “I can’t–I can’t believe–” Bessie couldn’t possibly finish. “We are going to get this all straightened out. Max and Ben will be found guilty. The truth will come with time,” Adam said softly as he leaned in and gave Bessie a hug. Adam and Bessie were staying in a hotel just down the street from the Silk Factory, which was, ironically, the same hotel that Max had suggested for them to stay before they came to New York. “We have to go out there and make a public appearance to tell everybody the truth.” “I know, I know, we will Bessie. The papers have already asked us to give our testimony to the people this afternoon to try and clear up some of the questions before the trial,” Ben said releasing Bessie from his grip. “Everything is going to be okay.” “But those girls, those young girls–were too young I just can’t believe that happened.” Still shocked from the whole experience, Bessie and Adam got themselves together, walked down the street and made

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their speech in front of the blackened Asch building to a large group of mourners, protesters and the City Commissioner. It was a very emotional and unprepared testimony. It seemed to clear up a few questions, although some of the crowd still seemed skeptical. Following their speech was the account of a man named Louis Waldman, who described the grim scene from his viewpoint as a pedestrian nearby. â&#x20AC;&#x153;...Yesterday evening I was sitting at one of the reading tables in the old Astor Library. I was deeply engrossed in my book when I became aware of fire engines racing past the building. Intrigued along with several others in the library, I ran out to see what was happening, and followed crowds of people to the scene of the fire. A few blocks away, the Asch factory building at the corner of Washington Place and Greene Street was ablaze. When we arrived at the scene, the police had thrown up a cordon around the area and the firemen were helplessly fighting the blaze. The eighth, ninth and tenth stories of the building were now an enormous roaring cornice of flames.

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Word had spread through the East Side, by some magic of terror, that the plant of the Triangle Waist Company was on fire and that several hundred workers were trapped. Horrified and helpless, the crowds— I among them—looked up at the burning building, saw girl after girl appear at the reddened windows, pause for a terrified moment, and then leap to the pavement below, to land as mangled, bloody pulp. This went on for what seemed a ghastly eternity. Occasionally a girl who had hesitated too long was licked by pursuing flames and, screaming with clothing and hair ablaze, plunged like a living torch to the street. Life nets held by the firemen were torn by the impact of the falling bodies. The emotions of the crowd were indescribable. Women were hysterical, scores fainted; men wept as, in paroxysms of frenzy, they hurled themselves against the police lines…” Bessie couldn’t listen to any more. Crying, she stormed off the small platform that she was standing and ran back down the street towards the hotel. Adam quickly followed to calm her but Bessie kept on walking.

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“I– I need to be alone for a while Adam,” she said as she slowed to a stop. “Just let me be alone, I need to clear my mind.” “I just don’t think it’s a good idea Bessie,” Adam said. “Like it or not, some people think we started that fire. I just don’t think you should be alone. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “I understand your concern but please let me go.” Bessie quickly turned around and took off down the street. Adam took a deep breath and let her go. He turned to face the hotel across the street, sighed and went inside to rest until Bessie came back. Bessie tried to clear her mind of all the horrific images in her head. She tried to listen to the rhythmic sound her footsteps as they clicked when she walked down Greene Street. It seemed very dark now that she was alone in the big city. Bessie walked for several blocks as she made a loop back onto Greene Street and Washington Place. As she passed back by the now eerie Asch building, she again began to cry as images of the blazing fire invaded her mind. Bessie was standing right in the spot where she and Adam arrived just two days earlier,

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when her life seemed so much simpler. Bessie walked up to the now door-less entryway and for some reason, without thinking entered the building. After looking around the first floor, she noticed the open empty elevator shaft. Upon closer look of the stream of blackened burns creeping out of the shaft and up the wall around the elevator entrance, Bessie could not handle being there anymore. She quickly turned around to leave, walked a few feet towards the exit and instantly froze. The entrance to the building cast a shadow of a dark figure. A terrifying image of a man stared Bessie in the face. The man was of large stature, and wore a long brown wool coat with fur around the collar. This was the only feature of this man Bessie could make out before he started to quickly walk towards her. Bessie, frightened, quickly found the entrance to the stairs and ran to the second floor, as the stairs leading to higher levels were destroyed. Bessie ran into one of the mangled sweatshops hoping to find anywhere to escape the man chasing after her.

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As she reached the far side of the room, she came to face to face with a broken-out window leading to a destroyed, mangled fire escape. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Stop! Stop right now, there is no where else to run.â&#x20AC;? Bessie stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around to face the man cast in shadows.

FACTS AND CREDITS

Facts and Credits The Triangle Silk Waist Company (and characters involved in that company) depicted in this book are based on the actual Triangle Silk Waist Company, and the histroric fire that took place in New York City. Names, dates, events and relationships within the characters have been changed or fabricated by the author of this fictional story. On December 27th, 1911, The actual owners of the Triangle Silk Waist Company were found not guilty of manslaughter nor neglegance of inhumane and dangerous working conditions, though the factoriesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; insurance company was forced to pay seventy-five dollars to each one of the victimsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; families. It was a very small price to pay for the lives lost. The explanation for the fire was never solved; although it is

WAIST

believed faulty wiring in the building was probably the cause. The Triangle Waist Fire went down in history as a turning point in the rise of unions, and the protection and rights of labor workers in America. The tragedy still dwells in the collective memory of the nation and the international labor movement. From 1911 to 1914 numerous laws were passed to protect the health and safety of American workers among other reforms including national fire prevention acts. The fire will be remembered as a result of neglect and carelessness. The victims of the tragedy are still celebrated as martyrs at the hands of industrial greed. The JCRS (Jewish Consumptivesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Relief Society) depicted in this book was a based off a real organization. Founded in Denver, Colorado in 1904, The JCRS specialized in the care of patients with pulmonary Tuberculosis in a distinctively Jewish environment. Bessie Harris was an actual patient at the sanatorium. She was 16 years old when she was admitted there. Her Patient number was 668.

Leon Stein, ed. Out Of The Sweatshop: The Struggle For Industrial Democracy (New York: Quadrangle/New Times Book Company, 1977), pp. 188-193. “Investigation, Trial and Reform.” www.Cornell.edu. 2009. Cornell University. 23 Jan 2004 <http://www.cornell.edu/trianglefire/ narrative6.html> “147 Dead, Nobody Guilty.”Literary Digest. January 6th, 1912: p. 6 “New York Fire kill 148.” Chicago Sunday Tribune. No. 6, March 26, 1911: p. 1