Flower in the River: A Family Tale Finally Told

Badge-Worthy Bravery and the Journalist Who Missed the Boat

• Natalie Zett • Season 2 • Episode 79

Share episode

Send us a text

What if a single event could forever change the fate of countless families and a whole city? Join us this week as we unravel the untold stories of the 1915 Eastland disaster, starting with Ann Smith's riveting family history. Ann shares the valiant efforts of her grandfather, Floyd Cameron Smith, who leaped into action when the ship capsized, saving lives and earning recognition from the Chicago coroner. We also hear about Ann's maternal grandfather, Jay Bates, who narrowly escaped this tragic fate. These personal accounts offer a rare glimpse into the lives forever marked by that fateful day.

Next, we shift gears to explore the gripping firsthand experience of Harlan Babcock, a Chicago Herald journalist who narrowly missed boarding the ill-fated Eastland. His incredible coverage provided a poignant narrative that combined journalistic integrity with deep personal stakes. Learn how Babcock's unique perspective and the collaborative efforts of the Herald staff brought the horrors and heroism of the Eastland disaster to the forefront, forever influencing the landscape of disaster reporting.

Lastly, we transport you to the chaotic morning the Eastland capsized in the Chicago River. Feel the tension and anguish as we recount the desperate rescue efforts that unfolded amidst the screams and chaos. From the bravery of crew members and dock workers to the heartbreaking struggles of the Western Electric Company employees and their families, we honor the resilience of a community in crisis. Stick around as we wrap up this chapter and tease the intriguing stories to come, ensuring the memory of those affected by the Eastland disaster lives on.

Links:

Natalie Zett:

Hello, I'm Natalie Zett and welcome to Flower in the River. This podcast, inspired by my book of the same name, explores the 1915 Eastland disaster in Chicago and its enduring impact, particularly on my family's history. We'll explore the intertwining narratives of others impacted by this tragedy as well, and we'll dive into writing and genealogy and uncover the surprising supernatural elements that surface in family history research. Come along with me on this journey of discovery. Hi and welcome back to Flower in the River podcast. This is episode 79. I hope you had a great week. So today I'm going to share a story that, as far as I can tell, has not been widely shared. In fact, if I weren't a member of the Chicago Genealogical Society, I probably would not have known of this story. During the second part of the episode we will return to the newspapers of 1915 to hear about how the Chicago Herald covered the Eastland disaster. A few months ago I came across a powerful article in the Chicago Genealogist. That's a publication by the Chicago Genealogical Society, where I'm a member. The story was written by Ann Smith and after reaching out to her, she graciously allowed me to share her family's connections to the Eastland disaster on my website and on this podcast. So I will read this touching account. It's called the Eastland Disaster A Personal Connection Discovered by Ann Smith. It was published in the Spring 2016 issue.

Natalie Zett:

My memory of my paternal grandfather is as an old man, after having had several strokes that left one side of his body weakened and needing to be helped from the dining room table into the living room. My five-year-old eyes remember that he would doze in the chair on the periphery of the family conversation. He would listen to the baseball game on the radio, but his lower eyelids drooped, giving him a saddened and bloodshot expression. This was five years prior to his death at the age of 79. Floyd Cameron Smith was born in 1868 and married my grandmother in 1898, when he was 30. By his father, who had arranged a job for him with Hibbard Spencer Bartlett Company, a wholesale hardware dealer, he began work as a cutlery salesman and remained there until his retirement due to his second stroke in 1937. As an adult, I was interested in my family's stories and became known as the keeper of our collective history. In going through the Smith family letters and memorabilia, I found what appeared to be a sheriff's badge. I took it to my Uncle, floyd, grandpa Smith's son, and learned of the heroic deeds for which Grandpa received the badge and letter of commendation from the Chicago coroner. Here is the story my uncle told then.

Natalie Zett:

A 47-year-old family man was at work on July 24, 1915. Across the bridge of the Chicago River was the excursion steamer Eastland, boarding passengers from Western Electric for a Saturday outing for employees and their families. At 7.28 am, still moored to her dock between LaSalle and Clark Streets on the South Bank, the vessel slowly rolled over. Minutes before, at 7.24 am, captain Harry Peterson had ordered the stern lines off and signaled the tugboat of their imminent departure. They were headed for the Western Electric Annual Company picnic in Michigan City, indiana. As the stern began to swing away from the dock, the ship began to list toward the port side and never stopped. The Eastland gradually and continually rolled over to the left side at the dock, as thousands of horrified witnesses watched by 7.28 am in 20 feet of water. The engine room was soon swamped and those who had gone below the deck were trapped. The ship lay on its side as the scramble to save lives began. Of the 2,572 persons on board, over 800 perished on that beautiful Saturday morning.

Natalie Zett:

The Clark Street dock was across the Chicago River approximately one block from Hibbert, spencer and Bartlett. Many citizens who were in the vicinity rushed to the scene to be of assistance. Authorities had no suitable equipment or rescue plan for such an accident. Suitable equipment or rescue plan for such an accident. The photographs of the tragic event clearly show the desperate efforts underway. The commendation letter to my grandfather and silver medal star received from the coroner's office show an image of the Eastland on her side and the inscription quote for valued services rendered to the coroner Eastland disaster 1915, end quote.

Natalie Zett:

Ironically, jay Bates, my grandfather on the maternal side of the family, was called to the temporary morgue scene following the disaster. His mother had recently remarried to Ernest Gauthier, who worked for Western Electric. They had been scheduled to be on the day cruise. Jay was asked to come to the morgue to identify them, only to learn much later that they had decided to skip the trip and had never been on board. I attempted to learn more about the accident but only pursued it intermittently. After I retired I was a volunteer at the history department at the University of Florida.

Natalie Zett:

I told the story one day in the coffee room. One of the professors was a student of maritime history and knew about it. He gave me the long and short versions as he had studied it. The sinking of the Titanic in 1912 had set off a series of changes in vessel safety. The publicity over what had purported to be an unsinkable ship created new regulations and a series of changes to many ships, including the Eastland. Lifeboats had been added and other changes made, making her unstable and top-heavy. The Lusitania had been sunk in May 1915 as the result of a torpedo 11 months into World War I. Now in July 1915, the Eastland disaster. July 1915, the Eastland disaster.

Natalie Zett:

My grandfather was not a tall man. People knew him as a lover of baseball, a man of clever humor and an ardent cigar and pipe smoker. There was nothing to indicate to a little girl watching her grandfather nod off after dinner. That's grandfather Floyd Smith from Peter Hoffman, who was the Cook County coroner During the trying hours of the Eastland disaster. There were many of our esteemed citizens who rendered valuable service in rescuing the lives of the Eastland passengers and assisted in taking care of the dead, and never engaged in a more noble purpose than that of prolonging, protecting and rescuing the lives of his fellow. I have no way of compensating the hundreds of good citizens who rendered service except to thank them from the bottom of my heart. I, however, take the liberty of presenting you with a little star bearing a cut of the passenger steamship Eastland and an inscription reading Valued Service Rendered. I trust that you will accept this little token, not for its intrinsic value or worth, but in memory of this terrible of all disasters, which should teach us the lesson of quote safety, first end quote and of extending to our fellow man kindness, courtesy and consideration. Very respectfully yours, peter M Hoffman.

Natalie Zett:

Coroner Anne Smith is a retired RN, having practiced in acute care facilities for over 40 years in various capacities. She currently volunteers for the University of Florida Samuel Proctor Oral History Program collecting oral histories of World War II veterans. She has been a CGS, that's Chicago Genealogical Society member for about eight to ten years and has been researching her family for about 20 years. I think a life of service kind of goes through the gene pool in that family. I want to say thank you to Anne personally and publicly for giving me permission to share this story and I hope you enjoyed it. If you follow this podcast, you realize that Coroner Pete Hoffman comes up quite a bit. He was a colorful character, but he also definitely knew how to say thank you to people and he knew what to do in the face of an unprecedented disaster. That happened that day. And also, anne shared with me photos of both of her grandparents, along with the star that was awarded by Pete Hoffman. I have posted that already to my website and I'll put a link in the show notes. It's actually a really delightful photo of both sets of Anne's grandparents.

Natalie Zett:

Now it's time to return to the Scoop. So on August 31st of this year, I published a podcast that introduced the Scoop, and let me tell you about that again. So the Scoop was a publication associated with the Chicago Press Club, which was a prominent organization of journalists, writers and editors in the early 20th century. This journal often featured articles, essays and commentaries on journalism, media ethics and the press's role in society. It served as both a professional journal and a record of the activities and interests of the Chicago Press Club's members. So in other words, it's a journal for journalists, and I want to continue sharing how the scoop covered the newspaper's coverage of the Eastland disaster.

Natalie Zett:

This time we'll focus on the Herald, the Herald, every Chicago newspaper did remarkably well in handling the news end of the Eastland disaster and each office was a scene of remarkable cooperation among all departments. The business office people turned in and helped the editorial staff in every way they could. The writer, who is a member of the Herald staff, saw several little things worthy of recording in the scoop. For example, julius Snyder, the advertising manager, was doing Aaron Boy's work and answering telephones very willingly and as cheerfully as its occasion would permit, and as cheerfully as its occasion would permit. Eddie Doherty came in from his vacation to write some of the best descriptive stories printed. Every special department man on the editorial side turned in and worked from 17 to 20 hours, and the women did their share too. Above all the apparent confusion and despite the strain on nerves, the newspaper system triumphed. Editions went to press on time and with very few mistakes. Of course it wasn't altogether system. The staff keyed itself up to meet the emergency. The Herald men are very proud of their newspaper and felt that their final 4 am effort, a 16-page special devoted entirely to the Eastland tragedy, containing four pages of names and two and a half pages of portraits, in addition to other pictures and all the descriptive reading matter of the tragedy crowned a wonderful day's work in a news sense. Wonderful day's work in a news sense.

Natalie Zett:

We came near losing our beloved Bab. If he had not overslept, the chances are he would have gone down with the majority. He had been assigned to the ship and was to have rhymed a report of the picnic for the Sunday issue. He reached the bridge just as the ship began to heel. I don't like the look of that, he said to himself, and stood a moment undecided. And in that moment over she went. But he was ashore. His first move was to jump the nearest phone and shoot the word to the Herald office. Then he stayed on, secured a phone on the dock and for hours kept the rewrite busy. Then he went to the office himself being fed full on horrors, and wrote two columns in prose.

Natalie Zett:

This time. Those two columns gave us a view of a new Bab, a Bab who could look on life and death with eyes of grave understanding. His story was full of sympathy. It touched the heart and dimmed the eye. We did not know it was in him, but we like him better now that we know it was Mr James Keeley who is spending his vacation in the Wisconsin woods, telephoned the office Sunday night after having seen only the second Bulldog that would be the late night edition of the newspaper, not to mention the vastly improved later mail and city editions that he was well pleased with the workmanship and could see he was not needed at all. Anyone who knows Mr Keeley will appreciate the compliment to editors and staff. In summary, that scoop article I read was all about the Chicago Herald's coverage of the Eastland disaster and he's known for his piece on the Eastland and I posted his article on my website a few months ago and I'll give you a link to that.

Natalie Zett:

But first I want to talk about what makes Harlan Babcock's story so interesting. It got me to thinking what does a journalist bring to their writing? As journalists we're supposed to be objective, right, but the truth is we can't help but bring our history into our work. Think about it. As writers, even as podcasters, we carry this massive treasure chest of personal experiences, everything from our childhood memories to our travels, to our victories and even our heartbreaks. It all sneaks into our story somehow, and it's not just the big stuff our cultural background, the traditions we grew up with and even the food we ate as kids. It all plays a part. Now I'm not saying we're out there writing opinion pieces disguised as news at least we're not supposed to be but our values, our beliefs about the world, they shape the themes we explore. And even when we're trying our darndest to stay neutral and let's not forget our sense of humor Even in serious pieces a writer's unique way of seeing the absurd in life can shine through.

Natalie Zett:

Often writers use their work to grapple with unresolved questions or traumas in their lives. Writing becomes this way to process or make sense of what's happened. I've seen this a lot in my own work as I uncover family histories and digging into the complex events like the Eastland disaster. When we look at Harlan Babcock's piece on the Eastland and I will read that later we're not just reading a news article. We're seeing a snapshot of his experiences, his curiosities and even the questions he was wrestling with at the time. What we learned so far is that Harlan Babcock was supposed to board the Eastland on that fateful day but narrowly escaped. His story goes far beyond just that singular moment. Babcock was a journalist, a poet, a man who had lived through both immense personal loss and public tragedy, making him an intriguing figure whose life offers a window into the early 20th century. Maybe you'll hear his account of the Eastland disaster differently when you learn about his life.

Natalie Zett:

Harlan Babcock, known to his friends as Bab, was a fixture in the newspaper world. Born in Marengo, illinois, in 1868, babcock was the son of J H Babcock, a Civil War veteran and the longtime editor of the Marengo Republican. Babcock followed in his father's footsteps, starting his career in journalism at a young age. Over the years, he became the managing editor of the Kalamazoo Gazette News, where his work earned him a reputation for being both jovial and deeply committed to his craft. His quick wit and good fellowship made him a beloved figure in the newsroom and beyond. In 1901, babcock married Maud, known as Mamie Elizabeth Pfeiffer, the daughter of a well-known hotel owner in South Bend, indiana, and I'll stop and say that, as far as I know, despite the surname, mamie's Pfeiffer family and mine are not related. Mamie, an accomplished musician, was described as one of Indiana's finest singers, and Harlan and Mamie's life seemed full of promise. But as we know, life has a way of turning in directions we can't foresee.

Natalie Zett:

By 1910, the Babcocks were living in Spokane, washington, where Harlan was working on a newspaper, and during that time Harlan and Mamie suffered a devastating blow. Their five-year-old son, bartow, tragically died from gastroenteritis. It's hard to imagine a greater loss than losing a child. But just weeks later Babcock's father, jh Babcock, passed away. In an article written soon after his death it said that grief from his grandson's death was believed to have hastened J? H Babcock's own passing. So that period of Harlan Babcock's life was marked by profound personal grief, and no doubt it influenced his writing in the years to come. So somewhere between 1910 and 1915, harlan and Mamie relocated to Chicago, where Harlan was working for a number of papers, including the Herald. In just five years after losing his son and his dad, he would be present for one of the greatest public tragedies of his career the Eastland disaster.

Natalie Zett:

As stated in the article in the Scoop, july 24th started out as a typical day for Babcock, who was assigned to cover the Western Electric Picnic aboard the Eastland picnic aboard the Eastland. As we know, that day took a shocking turn. But instead of freezing Babcock's instincts as a reporter kicked in. He immediately, as stated in the paper, called the Herald office and began reporting on the disaster, keeping busy for hours as he chronicled the unfolding tragedy. His detailed reporting would later become one of the most powerful accounts of the disaster, and I'm going to read what Babcock wrote. His piece was filled with empathy and understanding, qualities that may have been shaped by the profound losses he experienced just five years earlier, which was 1915. But Harlan also gives a very graphic and emotional rendering of what happened on that day. So I want to tell you that ahead of time, I have to say it got to me toward the end and I had to stop recording and I had to wipe away the tears and then continue. So it is very, very moving, at least for some of us. So just be aware of that. Okay, we'll continue. Story of Disaster by Only Newspaper man who Saw it, harlan E Babcock. Chicago Herald, july 31st 1915.

Natalie Zett:

I was assigned to go to Michigan City on one of the pleasure steamers carrying employees of the Western Electric Company on their annual lake excursion and picnic. It is probably due to the fact that I overslept a quarter of an hour and stopped to get breakfast that I was not among those on the ill-fated boat. And I am alive to tell as best I can, as an actual eyewitness, under the most distressing circumstances, the story of the catastrophe which plunged so many hundreds of families into the depths of grief. I had been told that the first boat would leave the south end of the Clark Street dock at 7 30 o'clock and plan to take the boat, as then I could get to Michigan City early, cover the picnic for my paper and return on the first boat in the evening. It was about 7.10 o'clock when I left my home on East Huron Street. I was hungry and stopped at a restaurant on State Street to get a bite, as I knew what difficulty I would have in getting anything to eat on the boat. It was this act, I believe, that saved my life, as otherwise I would have reached the dock in ample time and have been a passenger on the Eastland Thousands docks.

Natalie Zett:

I reached the Clark Street Bridge about 7.30, as near as I can figure, although I did not look at my watch. The bridge and dock were choked with gay humanity thousands waiting to take the Eastland and the Roosevelt or one of the other boats, waiting to take the Eastland and the Roosevelt or one of the other boats, and other thousands idly watching the passengers being herded onto the old shell that is the only word I will express. It herded onto it like cattle by the crew. The upper deck of the Eastland was fairly black, with people, mostly women and children. It seemed to me from where I stood, as I remained on the bridge, having made up my mind after seeing how the boat was jammed with passengers and was listing from the weight of the ever-increasing crowd on the upper deck to wait for one of the other vessels. I vaguely remember having heard that the Eastland had been condemned some years ago, and I felt that the crew of the boat was taking awful chances in overcrowding the boat, especially as the vessel kept listing gradually but more and more every minute. Then a tugboat steamed alongside of the Eastland and gave several deep-throated blasts, which evidently was the signal to cast off and start. There must have been 2,500 aboard the boat of death, but it never cast off.

Natalie Zett:

Before even the crew had time to release the housers that held the boat to the dock, the vessel began to topple and in less time than it takes to tell it. In sight of that horror-stricken throng of thousands, the Eastland, with its load of precious humanity, many of whom were mothers with babies in arms and with sweet-faced kitties at their sides, careened hurling hundreds, screaming, into the black waters of the rivers, scores and scores of whom were to die a miserable death and penning still other terrified hundreds on the lower decks there, either to perish like rats in a suddenly flooded dungeon or later to be saved if they could keep their heads above water. Never to my dying day shall I forget the supreme horror of that moment, so fraught with terror and all the awful heart-rendering scenes that go with the calamity of that kind. Many such scenes were enacted, as have been described in connection with the sinking of the Titanic and Lusitania. Only the trapped passengers on the Eastland did not have time to escape that did those on the doomed death crafts of the Atlantic.

Natalie Zett:

Slain by hundreds, by the hundreds men, women and children who, but a moment before, had been laughing and shouting holiday messages to one another on board the Eastland and to friends on shore, were hurled into the merciless waters of the Chicago River and slain, slain as might have been a multitude in a Russian massacre, only without scenes of carnage and bloodshed as the vessel lost its balance and top heavily careened on its side. The terror-blanched faces of those hundreds on the upper deck could have been seen by those standing on the bridge, on the docks and on the steamer Roosevelt, which stood at the stern of the Eastland, freighted with some 2,500 other employees of the Western Electric Company, their families and friends. There were screams and wails and sobs, pitiful prayers and imprecations from those on the doomed pleasure craft. When the boat toppled on its side, those on the upper deck were hurled off like so many ants being brushed from a table. Many on the opposite side of the boat clung to the railing and later were drawn up onto the hull and rescued. Members of the crew, men from the docks and bridge, policemen and others clambered onto the upturned and slippery hull as best they could and aided in the rescue work In spite of the momentary numbing effects of the catastrophe, the work of rescue began instantly.

Natalie Zett:

Some of the unfortunates were scarcely in the water before they were dragged out. A few of the women passengers kept their heads, but most of them wailed, wringing their hands hysterically and calling for loved ones who were with them but a moment before and who had become lost in the bedlam of fear. Hundreds of life preservers were thrown from the docks and from the Roosevelt to those making supreme efforts to keep their heads above water and who had the strength enough left to reach them. In this way, a large number were saved. Many employees of the Western Electric Company aboard the Roosevelt did valiant service in the work of rescue. I saw one man in particular stick to the boat and one after another excitedly tear at least fifty life preservers from their moorings on the vessel and throw them to the pleading men and women in the river, some of whom would sink to death even before they could reach the floating bits of cork. Another scene I shall never forget was the way those wailing, shrieking women and some men clung to the upper railing of the boat In mad desperation. They gripped the rail, knowing that to let go meant possible death. Many succeeded in retaining their hold until help arrived. Others, weakened by the excitement and fear, loosed their grip and plunged into the water. Another means that rescued some was furnished by the planks that were thrown from the dock and the bridge.

Natalie Zett:

At almost the moment the Eastland capsized, scores of men, without waiting to see the result of the disaster, began to scurry about for anything that would float. Some found planks and others boxes, while others rushed into South Water Street and grabbed whatever movable and floatable they could find, rushing madly back and throwing these improvised lifesavers into the water. Some reached the drowning humans and others floated lazily downstream Chop holes in hull. Within a minute after the boat had careened, men were at work cutting holes through the hull that imprisoned passengers might be pulled through the apertures and saved. I don't know how many were drawn out in this manner, but it seemed to me that there were several hundred.

Natalie Zett:

All this time, grief-stricken men and women, mostly employees of the Western Electric Company, members of their families or friends, were rushing about in the hope of learning the fate of loved ones. Others who knew positively that members of their families were aboard the Eastland begged the police that they be allowed to go on the upturned hull or on the dock. When held back by the police, they almost threatened, so insistent were they that they must get to the boat, but strong arms held them back. Women and men prayed aloud that those near them might not be in the long roll of the dead. The most sorrowful scenes of all were when the dead bodies, by the scores and hundreds, were pulled either from the river or from the hull of the boat which, half filled with water, proved a death trap for so many happy souls bent on a day. Of the boat which, half filled with water, proved a death trap for so many happy souls bent on a day of merrymaking, but which proved a doomsday ere it had begun. Many of the passengers had retired to the state rooms of the Eastland. Those on the submerged side of the vessel must have been drowned almost instantly as there was little possible chance of escape. Hundreds of others were crowded on the dancing deck awaiting the moment the orchestra sounded to call to the floor, but the music never started. Instead came the shrieks of the affrighted as the boat listed suddenly and then careened, carrying scores of these happy young folk in holiday attire and with their feet. But a moment before keeping time to imaginary music, to a tragic death. And then that silently sad procession of policemen and firemen and others, bearing in four each a body on a dripping stretcher, mute evidence of the terrible toll of the waters. Solemnly, the stretcher-bearers walked down the hull of the steamer onto the deck with their inanimate burdens of humanity that a brief half-hour or hour before had scurried, laughing to the death.

Natalie Zett:

Craft AIDS in Rescue. I aided what little I could in the first trying moments of the calamity, but with such alacrity were the police and firemen. There were hundreds of them on the scene, and so nobly did they labor that there was little left for an outsider to do. So. I kept as close to the scene as I possibly could and got my story as best I could, for this wasn't my assignment. And hadn't I, for some mysterious reason, been spared from being one of those on the boat that sent so many to their doom? My heart ached for the bereaved ones, heart ached for the bereaved ones, and I was shocked as never before by the infinite sadness of it all. But I couldn't help but feel grateful that I overslept. And then I stopped for a few minutes to get breakfast, otherwise this simple recital of what I saw might never have been written.

Natalie Zett:

A slip of a woman who was one of those rescued from the upper railing stood weeping at the top of the stairway leading from the dock into Clark Street. When she stepped onto the boat an hour before, she had her husband and little boy with her. Oh, where do you suppose they are? She kept asking a sad-faced policeman standing near her. You don't suppose they were drowned, do you? He had the baby. He had the baby. Oh, why didn't I take the baby instead of carrying the lunch basket? Would you please find out where they are?

Natalie Zett:

The crowd looked at the bedraggled little figure pityingly, and the police had hard work keeping her from rushing down on the dock and onto the boat. Wild-eyed, half hysterical and trembling, she watched every form that was brought up. Finally, a tiny bit of clay was brought to the street. Oh, maybe that's him. She moaned Before they could prevent her. She had snatched the blanket away from the cold, white face of the child. With an agonized scream, she threw herself across the stretcher and almost bore the policeman and the body to the ground. Yes, it was him, her baby. They lifted her up with the little body clutched in her arms, but she knew nothing of what was transpiring. She had swooned, but she had her baby at last.

Natalie Zett:

I could recite dozens of such harrowing tales as this, but why make the soul-numbing catastrophe still more heartbreaking? And this is my assignment. Harlan E Babcock Life after the Eastland. Well, following the Eastland disaster, harlan Babcock continued his career, but his life was forever marked by what he had witnessed. His writing, particularly on the Eastland, was imbued with a newfound depth, as if the event had unlocked a part of him that could now see life and death with greater clarity.

Natalie Zett:

Babcock continued to write and publish poetry and articles for several newspapers, but his health declined in the later years of his life.

Natalie Zett:

In February 1930, he passed away in Kalamazoo, michigan. His obituary, which ran in the Rockford Register-Gazette, described him as a widely known newspaperman, poet and author. He was a man who had experienced tremendous highs and lows, surviving personal tragedy and public disaster alike, all while continuing to write. It goes without saying that Harlan's life was one of resilience, amazing resilience. He faced immense personal loss, yet continued to be a voice for others through his writing.

Natalie Zett:

The Eastland disaster indeed seemed to mark a turning point in his career and, who knows, maybe it helped him put his own personal trauma in perspective. He certainly already understood the fragility of life, but having that drama played out before him, goodness knows what that did to him. But his reflections on the event remain an important part of the historical record and I want to bring this front and center because it's a very important witness to the Eastland disaster. It's one of the most enduring outcomes of that day and, as always, I'm really grateful because there are so many of these personal accounts whether it's Ann Smith telling of her grandfather's being there on that day or Harlan's actual eyewitness accounts. It is so wonderful and so necessary to let these people who were there speak for themselves.

Natalie Zett:

So next week we will continue. I have additional stories from the Scoop that I think you will enjoy, and thank you for joining me on this part of the journey. Have a great week and I will talk to you very soon. Hey, that's it for this episode and thanks for coming along for the ride. Please subscribe or follow so you can keep up with all the episodes, and for more information, please go to my website. That's wwwflowerintherivercom. I hope you'll consider buying my book, available as audiobook, e-book, paperback and hardcover, because I still owe people money and that's my running joke. But the one thing I'm serious about is that this podcast and my book are dedicated to the memory of all who experienced the Eastland disaster of 1915. Goodbye for now.

People on this episode

Head Shot

Natalie Zett

Host