Flower in the River: A Family Tale Finally Told

Dwight Boyer: Forgotten Chronicler of the Eastland Disaster

• Natalie Zett • Season 4 • Episode 125

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What We’re Covering:

  • Maritime journalist Dwight Boyer (1912–1977) published a detailed Eastland Disaster account in 1971—more than two decades before most major works on the subject
  • His chapter in True Tales of the Great Lakes draws from courtroom records, witness interviews, and primary source material
  • Although George Hilton cited Boyer in Eastland: Legacy of the Titanic, Boyer's work has otherwise been mostly overlooked or uncredited 

Highlights from Dwight Boyer's Career:

  • Boyer wrote for the Toledo Blade (1944–1954) and Cleveland Plain Dealer (into the early 1970s)
  • Respected journalist, known for precision, solid journalism, and vivid storytelling
  • The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) cited his work in its Official Guide to Great Lakes Materials

Resources:

  • Boyer, Dwight. True Tales of the Great Lakes. Cleveland: The World Publishing Company, 1971. — Chapter 2: “Who Speaks for the Little Feller” (Eastland Disaster)
  • Hilton, George W. Eastland: Legacy of the Titanic. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1995.— Includes citation of Boyer’s 1971 account
  • National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). A Guide to Selected Great Lakes Maritime History Materials at the National Archives–Great Lakes Region. Washington, D.C.: NOAA Office of Ocean and Coastal Resource Management, 1992.
Natalie Zett:

Well, hey, this is Natalie and I need to issue a disclaimer. It's been a while, but this issue has come up again. I'm not sure where it originated from actually maybe some kind of posting on social media but I have to say publicly that this podcast is an entirely independent project. It's inspired by my own family's connection to the Eastland disaster and hear these words. It is not affiliated with or endorsed by any organization claiming to preserve the history of the Eastland disaster. It's entirely independent. All research is my own, based on publicly available records, my own family's records, original investigation and the occasional gut feeling that someone left out the good stuff. But anyway, let's to Flower in the River.

Natalie Zett:

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. 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, history research. Come along with me on this journey of discovery. Hello, this is Natalie and welcome to episode 125 of Flower in the River. Thank you so much for the kind comments about last week's episode on Jack Woodford, which wrapped up our 110th anniversary commemoration of the Eastland disaster, but, as always, there are a lot more people to cover, so let's get to this.

Natalie Zett:

Today I want to take you with me on a new adventure. This is a fresh research project and, honestly, I'm still a little startled about what I found. Maybe more insight will emerge as I walk through it with you, but what I can say right now is this I've uncovered the work of yet another person whose name and contribution to Eastland disaster history, who, for the most part, hasn't been noted or properly credited. There is one major exception to that, though. In George Hilton's book Eastland Legacy of the Titanic, he does cite this source and does credit this author not extensively, but the information is there. So it is very curious to me as to why that didn't get passed down in other publications about the Eastland disaster. So keep that in mind. But let's move on to the fun stuff. Let me introduce you to Dwight Boyer. His book is another eBay find, by the way, dwight Boyer, his book is another eBay find, by the way, and it points out one of the challenges that people like me, who are independent researchers face. Most of our work is done online, and if a resource isn't digitized, we might not always know about it. So there's another reason for my sharing this information with you. Besides the fact that it is an incredible story, it's also a way to create, or begin to create, a partial digital record for this wonderful book and this incredible writer.

Natalie Zett:

Dwight Boyer, born in 1912, died in 1977, was a journalistic pioneer in Great Lakes maritime history. As you partake of his storytelling prowess In regard to the Eastland disaster, I'm thinking that you too may be shaking your head wondering why has this guy's writing been mostly ignored? Born in Ohio, boyer spent much of his career documenting dramatic shipwrecks and sailor stories on the Great Lakes. He worked for the Toledo Blade from about 1944 to 1954, and then at the Plain Dealer in Cleveland into the early 1970s. He built strong relationships with shipping industry insiders and fellow reporters, which gave him access to a ton of firsthand information. Reviewers noted that Boyer was deeply respected among those in the shipping trade and that he didn't just accept what people told him. And that he didn't just accept what people told him. He weighed information carefully and combined solid journalism with compelling narrative. He was especially good at telling stories about mysterious disappearances of ships, building what one reviewer called conjectural trajectories for vessels lost in Great Lakes. Storms never to return.

Natalie Zett:

Boyer's books span disasters from the 1800s through the 1970s, including the 1975 Edmund Fitzgerald tragedy. What made him unique was his balance of technical detail with engrossing storytelling. So let's talk about True Tales of the Great Lakes, published in 1971. Chapter 2, titled who Speaks for the Little Feller, is Boyer's account of the Eastland disaster. Please keep in mind that this was written over 20 years before George Hilton's book was written and contains a detailed narrative of what happened on July 24, 1915. Boyer used all kinds of primary sources and interviews for his writing, and he approached the story like the seasoned journalist that he was. In fact, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the NOAA, cited Boyer's work in their official guide to Great Lakes materials, specifically noting his inclusion of courtroom records in his Eastland account. Frank Cole, whose father worked for Western Electric, called Boyer's chapter marvelous. Boyer's account, again published in 1971, is one of the earliest detailed narratives about the Eastland disaster's aftermath.

Natalie Zett:

I'm going to share Boyer's obituary with you, and this will give you an even better idea of who he was. This is from the Sunday Plain Dealer, that's from Cleveland, ohio. October 16th 1977. Chronicler of the Great Lakes dies. Pd reporter Dwight Boyer suffers heart attack at 64.

Natalie Zett:

Dwight Boyer, reporter, photographer and historian of the Great Lakes, died yesterday of the latest of a series of heart attacks. He would have been 65 November 12th. Death came at 2.30 am in Lake County Memorial Hospital West where he had beena patient six days. His son, lawrence H, a mentor policeman, was with him. Quote they called me when his condition worsened, said the son, and he had heart attacks at 10.30 and 11.30, and then the last one. He couldn't say anything.

Natalie Zett:

Mr Boyer wrote and published five books on the Great Lakes and won many awards in the 23 years he worked for the Plain Dealer. But he was a quiet man who seldom talked about himself. Emerson Batdorf, entertainment editor who worked across from him for many years, said it took two years before Mr Boyer engaged in any conversation beyond the amenities. The loudest thing about him until then was his briar pipe, which sounded like a crow call. Was his briar pipe which sounded like a crow call? He smoked Prince Albert tobacco and saved the tins for years because he thought they would be collector's items. Mr Boyer had been felled last Sunday by a heart attack shortly after going on vacation. He had been in intensive care until Friday when he was permitted visitors and telephone calls.

Natalie Zett:

There are many photojournalists but few are equally skilled with the camera and words. Mr Boyer's pictures were not only in focus and frequently beautiful, but his word pictures clouded the reader's heart or funny bones. From historic St Malachi's church one of his stories began recently where the sun cast the shadow of the spire over the old Angle District he loved so well. They buried John Patrick Chambers end quote. Another day he reported how patrolman Joseph Augustine Dura, a traffic cop at East 6th Street and Superior Avenue, kept quote impatient motorists from nipping at the heels of tardy pedestrians. His pictures of St Theodosius Orthodox Church on Starkweather Avenue were so splendid that the United States Information Agency used them in a Russian-language publication.

Natalie Zett:

Mr Boyer was born in Illyria and when he was young his family moved to Mentor. He was an outstanding athlete at Mentor High School. Though only 5'8 and 140 pounds, he was a star of the football team and competed in the state Class B track meet in Columbus in the 100-yard dash and relays in 1930. He began taking pictures in high school and sold some to newspapers on a freelance basis. His first newspaper job was with the Erie Pennsylvania Daily Times in 1943. With the Erie Pennsylvania Daily Times in 1943.

Natalie Zett:

Mr Boyer was, once his reserve was pierced, a raconteur of professional caliber. His adventures with a sports writer with a cork leg and wrestling fans were incredible. He once had to defend himself from an irate wrestling fan with his speed graphic camera. The encounter hardly fazed the fan but destroyed the camera, much to his managing editor's discomfiture. Quote they wanted me to pay for a new one myself, said Mr Boyer indignantly. He would not identify what paper. So parsimonious. But he also worked at the Toledo Ohio Blade from 1944 to 1954, and earlier for about three weeks at a paper in South Carolina. Quote I didn't like the South, mr Boyer said. So I went for lunch in 1944 and never came back, not even for my pay. I guess the editor is still waiting for me to come back from lunch, even for my pay. I guess the editor is still waiting for me to come back from lunch.

Natalie Zett:

Mr Boyer's wife, virginia, died of cancer in August. Her passing affected him greatly. For the last three months of her life he did most of the housework and worried about her well-being. His passion for accuracy was legendary. He once spent three months trying to find what a lake captain's initials stood for. They were CA Quote. They stood for Chauncey Aloysius, mr Boyer said. No wonder he only used initials.

Natalie Zett:

His first book on the Great Lakes, great Stories of the Great Lakes, was published in 1966. The last Ships and Men of the Great Lakes was published this year. In between were ghost ships of the Great Lakes, true tales of the Great Lakes and strange adventures of the Great Lakes. He was at work on another one when he died. Part of the Fairport Harbor Museum is named the Dwight Boyer Wing and contains the pilot house of the Great Lakes vessel Frontenac. Mr Boyer acquired the pilot house for the museum from the Cleveland Cliffs Iron Company and the G&W Welding Company in 1968.

Natalie Zett:

He was a member of the Audubon Society, the Fairport Harbor Historical Society, no-transcript and Martha Kinney Cooper Ohioana Library Association. He was also a member of the Cleveland News Photographers Association and Newspaper Guild. His pictures and his stories won many awards. A photograph of a county fair used as a cover on the Sunday magazine of the Plain Dealer won him a national award from the Sunday Editors Association. The judges said the photograph had a Norman Rockwell quality, his story of grave robbing, which ran in the magazine in September 1973 and won a 1974 Guild Award for Best Feature Story. Survivors also include grandsons Dwight II and William, and granddaughter Virginia. Services will be held at 1 pm tomorrow at the Brunner Funeral Home, 8466 Mentor Avenue, mentor and all these locations are in the Cleveland area.

Natalie Zett:

But I want to repeat something before I read the excerpt from Dwight Boyer's book. Quote his passion for accuracy was legendary, end quote. So keep that in mind as you listen to this section from Dwight Boyer's book. And before I read, I want to mention that, since this was written in an earlier time, they used an ethnic slur for Italians in this article. I left it in because this is how this crowd of people dismissed one Italian man's warning about what was about to happen with the Eastland. And of course this man was right. I'm going to be reading from Dwight Boyer's book True Tales of the Great Lakes, copyright 1971.

Natalie Zett:

Chapter 2. Who Speaks for the Little Feller? On what everybody had hoped would be a delightfully sunny day, the morning of Saturday July 24, 1915, began with light, steady rain and a somber sky in the Chicago area. Over to the west, however, the overcast was slowly lightening, giving promise of better things to come. At six o'clock, throughout the city and its sprawling suburbs of Cicero and Hawthorne, several thousand households were already astir for a very special reason For the 9,000 employees of the Western Electric Company, it was the big day of the year, the date of the long-awaited, grand and glorious Hawthorne Club picnic and excursion boat jaunt to Michigan City, indiana, a full day of fun and games at the largest resort in the Midwest.

Natalie Zett:

It was the fifth such annual frolic sponsored by the seven-year-old Club, each bigger and livelier than the last. The Hawthorne Club was originally formed as an educational organization for the employees, the members, arranging dinners, organizing theatricals, sponsoring baseball teams and initiating night classes for its many Polish and Bohemian workers experiencing language barriers. It was, by company standards, an almost instant success, and its mushrooming influence soon became a significant, if somewhat insidious, factor in the daily lives of those employed at the big plant. The club's own little newspaper, the Jubilator, in a pink sporting extra, had trumpeted the cause of the picnic most insistently. Quote Are you all set and ready for the big event? A long time ago, jonah took a trip on a whale. There is no Jonah about this, but it will be a whale of a success. Get your tickets early. Adults 75 cents. Children under five free. Children between five and 12, half fare. And in another Jubilator Extra quote. For instance, have you fixed it up with the wife? Have you arranged for plenty of sandwiches and cake and bananas and other fixings for the kids? Have you what? You're single? Well then, have you asked the young lady to save the date for you? Have you determined to help your department win that parade prize? Have you fixed the alarm clock to wake you in time for the first boat so you won't miss anything? Have you bought your ticket Seventy-five cents at the works, seventy 75 cents.

Natalie Zett:

Energetic subcommittees had made pretentious plans for the day Baseball games, tug-of-war games, sack races, balloon-blowing contests, foot races, pie-eating events, canoe races and free lemonade eating events, canoe races and free lemonade. The paramount event was to be the big parade, complete with the band, departmental floats and, last of all, a pageant depicting the great telephone achievement of the decade the linking of New York and San Francisco by long-distance wires. It was a matter of special pride for Chicagoans, for it was at the Western Electric plant that the equipment had been manufactured. Advanced billing had indicated a crowd so large that the Michigan City officials had granted permission for the parade to extend beyond the confines of the park down Franklin Street. Yes, largely because of the aggressiveness of the plant ticket sellers. Some employees called it coercion. The 1915 gala picnic gave every promise of topping them all. The ticket-selling campaign had been so successful, with 7,300 tickets bought and paid for that.

Natalie Zett:

On the night before the excursion of the Hawthorne Club's top officials, president Holmes, vice President J F Sheridan and Secretary J P Krivanek looked doubtfully at each other, each with the same unanswered question have we got enough boats? Weeks earlier, charles J Malmros, chairman of the club's picnic committee, had entered into a contract with WK Greenbaum, general manager of the Michigan City-based Indiana Transportation Company, for five lake passenger steamers to accommodate the expected crowd. Greenbaum's company, affiliated with the resort, owned no vessels, merely chartered them for such happy occasions. The Jubilator had already announced the sailing times of the steamers, all of which were to be moored along the Chicago River in the area of the Clark Street Bridge the Clark Street Bridge, eastland, 7.30 am. Theodore Roosevelt, 8 o'clock am. Petoskey, 8.30 am. Racine, 10 o'clock am and the Rochester at 2.30 pm. And don't urged the blatant jubilator wait for the last boat. The warning was needless. The tempo of the pre-picnic excitement had inspired an epidemic of early preparations. Most workers apparently wanted to get to the scene of the festivities as early as possible. The enthusiasm generated by the outpouring of Western electric people was almost as if, subconsciously, they knew some time might elapse before such an event could again be held.

Natalie Zett:

The flames of war had already engulfed much of Europe and incidents at sea threatened to involve the United States. On May 7, the Lusitania had been torpedoed, with the loss of 1,198 lives, 124 of them Americans. Eighteen days later, the US ship Nebraska was attacked, but the Germans had quickly expressed a willingness to make reparations. On July 16, uncle Sam began to flex his muscles, demonstrating the mobility of the nation's sea forces by sending battleships through the Panama Canal for the first time. On July 21, president Wilson dispatched his third Lusitania note to Germany, warning that further violations of US rights would be regarded as deliberately unfriendly. But the horrors of war were still a long way from Chicago, in the very heartland of the country. Today was still just another rainy Saturday morning, the beginning of the gala day of the year, if you believed the Jubilator. Although she was afraid of water and boats, 18-year-old Agnes Kaspersky wanted to attend the outing. She and her close friend Stella Machosky, both employed in the same department of the plant, had talked of it for weeks, planning to enter the single ladies' race.

Speaker 2:

Sharing the burden of their picnic basket. They left the Kaspersky home in time to catch the first boat.

Natalie Zett:

Not far away, barbara Lukens was studying a mirror, giving the final approval to the new dress she had made for the occasion. The task had taken the better part of a month, but both Barbara and her husband William agreed that it was time well spent. A relative was to stay with the four children while the pair joined the celebrants at Michigan City. They left the house shortly before 6.30 that morning. Little Martha Benke, daughter of the Julius Benkes and three years old, was too young to grasp the full significance of the new day, but the hectic preparations and holiday atmosphere told her there was something very special about getting up so early. She was cradled in her father's arms, her mother carrying the picnic hamper, when they boarded the streetcar for downtown. When they boarded the streetcar for downtown, willie Novotny was seven years old and had a new suit for the occasion, a brown checked affair with two pairs of matching knickers. Somehow it made him feel just as old as his sister Mamie eight. Their parents, james and Agnes Novotny, had been telling both of the wonders to be seen and experienced on the boat and at the resort. The youngsters were big-eyed with excitement as the family walked to the streetcar stop. Streetcar stop For Mike Chivanko.

Natalie Zett:

The day had begun much earlier and for him it was just another working day. He had hitched his horse to his wagon at 3 am and shortly thereafter departed for the market district. On the fringe of the downtown area, mike peddled vegetables for a living, selling them on a neighborhood route that had produced many warm friends and satisfied customers. He purchased his vegetables wholesale at the markets, retailing them house to house after a modest markup to ensure a fair return for his time and labors. As the horse clip-clopped over the Clark Street Bridge, the empty wagon making quite a clatter, he noticed the sheer white bulk of the Eastland, only an hour home from a moonlight excursion. Moored near the bridge, wisps of steam rose from her deck machinery. Empty beer bottles were being rolled out a gangway and a noisy group with a dray was unloading ice for her cold chests. Mike, with little time for the frivolity the preparations suggested, was unimpressed. Both Captain Harry Pedersen and Chief Engineer Joseph M Erickson had retired in anticipation of an arduous day.

Natalie Zett:

The Eastland was scheduled to leave at 7.30 am, disembark the factory excursionists at Michigan City and hurry up onto St Joseph, michigan for a regularly scheduled stop. She would then return to Michigan City to bring home the tired Western Electric people and whatever passengers had been taken on. At St Joseph, the vanguard of what was to be the Eastland's human cargo began arriving long before the ship was ready to receive them. Supplies were being loaded through a starboard gangway and crew members were sweeping up debris left from the Moonlight Ride and hosing down the decks. Cartons of bagged peanuts were carried aboard and popcorn machines on deck were ready for a brisk trade. The early arrivals, their numbers swelling by the moment, were patient. The light, rain continued and the sky was still overcast. Still they came, legions of them, trooping down from the streetcar stops and most of them freighted down with obviously well-stocked baskets, boxes and hampers. The mood was festive and good fellowship reigned.

Natalie Zett:

Upon returning from the Moonlight Excursion, captain Petterson had backed his twin-screw ship alongside the dock just west of the Clark Street Bridge. Ballast was then pumped out to bring the starboard gangway up to the level of the dock where the morning excursionists would board. When the service and supply people had furnished their tasks, all but one gangway was closed, that through which the Western electric workers would make their way aboard. But already some far back in the crowd had concluded that the Eastland would be too crowded for comfort and began to head for the Theodore Roosevelt. Moored on the east side of the bridge, scheduled to depart one half hour later than the Eastland, she had already taken aboard several hundred people. Nearby was the Petoskey, not due to sail until 8.30 am but already accepting passengers At 6.30 am. The Deputy Collector of Customs, Robert H McCreary, in charge of the loading, stationed two of his men, lumen A Lobdell and Hurtis G Oakley, at the single boarding gangway signal for operations to begin. Lobdell and Oakley checked their little hand counters as the passengers streamed by, hurrying to get the choice seats near the rails.

Natalie Zett:

The Eastland was licensed to carry 2,500 people, excluding her crew. The previous year, 1914, and up until less than a month before the present charter, the number had been limited to 2,183, but the federal steamboat inspector at Grand Haven, michigan, robert Reed, had recently seen fit, after pleadings by the steamer's owners, to raise the figure. Mr McCreary's men, however, had an unusual method of calculating the numbers of people hurrying aboard, one which strangely coincided with the ticket price arrangement between the Indiana Transportation Company and Mr Malmros of the Hawthorne Club's Picnic Committee. Children under five, admitted free and usually carried aboard by their parents, were not counted at all. Half-fair. Children between five and twelve went up the gangway in pairs, but each pair was counted as one adult. Others not subject to count were concessionaries, their assistants and members of an orchestra.

Natalie Zett:

At about 6.53 am, enough people had found their places on the port side, the side offering the choice view of the river and its changing scenes, the side offering the choice view of the river and its changing scenes to cause the ship to list slightly in that direction. Chief Engineer Erickson, noting the list on his plumb bob type inclinometer, immediately opened the valve on the no 2 ballast tank on the starboard side and also cranked open the starboard seacock for about five minutes. He was assisted by the ship's gauge tender, john Elbert, a Titanic survivor. The seacock's one port, one starboard, admitted free water into the hold for quick ballast low in the hull, where it was most needed. The list was soon corrected, or actually overcorrected, for the ship then listed slightly to starboard. At 7.05 am, captain Pedersen, having earlier ordered the engine room to quote-unquote stand by on the telegraph, to quote-unquote stand by on the telegraph, phoned engineer Erickson to quote-unquote limber up the engines. Erickson started the propeller shafts turning slowly, the starboard screw working astern, the port screw ahead. Meanwhile the listing condition had been erratic, changing several times from side to side. But at 7.16 am, with a slight list to port developing and persisting, the valve on the no 3 starboard ballast tank was opened.

Natalie Zett:

On the upper deck a little mandolin and fiddle orchestra was playing a selection of popular ragtime numbers. Over on the Theodore Roosevelt, a brass band was giving an enthusiastic rendition of I'm On my Way to Dear Old Dublin Bay Along the upper port rail of the Eastland. Barbara Lukens, clutching her new dress to prevent it from snagging on rough places on the bench, thought the tilting of the deck was great fun. Agnes Kaspersky and her chum Stella Machosky had also found places along the upper port rail, fortunately near a refreshment stand where lemonade and soft drinks were being already handed out by a harried attendant. The Benkees were not among the earliest arrivals and had to be content with places along the starboard rail. Little Martha, perched on her father's shoulder, was entranced by the dockside commotion. Also among the last to board were the Novotnys, and the congestion was so great that they had to be content with a spot away from the rail and on the lower deck, although the Eastland normally operated as economically as possible, dispensing with assistance when it could be avoided.

Natalie Zett:

Captain Petterson had ordered a tug to help him away from the dock and tow the ship beyond the State Street Bridge, which was on a sharp turn in the river. The tug Kenosha of the Great Lakes Towing Company responded and was ready for her work. The tow line attached but still not taut. At 7.18, the ship had straightened up somewhat, actually heeling slightly to starboard, but shortly regained her slight list to port where she stayed steady for almost two minutes. The engines were stopped but ballast was still being pumped into the two starboard tanks. At 7.23, the Eastland listed sharply to port again.

Natalie Zett:

Engineer Erickson sent men up to the main deck to ask passengers to move to the starboard side. A few complied. Joseph R Lind, assistant harbormaster, had joined harbormaster Adam F Weckler. As the Eastland was about to cast off her lines, he called his superior's attention to the growing list to port. Yes, agreed, weckler, it's a shame to send off a boat with that big a load Along the curb line of the Clark Street Bridge.

Natalie Zett:

Mike Javenko, his wagon piled high with crated vegetables, was returning from market. Not familiar with any aspects of ships or their handling, he was instinctively alarmed at the sight of the Eastland leaning far over toward the river channel. Standing up, he yelled to the crowd of young men on the bow get off, the boat's turning over. He was answered with a chorus of jeers and shout by one loudmouth lout Go on, dago, you're crazy. Captain Pedersen had already stationed the second mate at the stern lines, ready to cast them off on signal. The tug crew under Captain John O'Meara was impatiently awaiting the signal from the Eastland's whistle. On the dock, harbormaster Weckler kept shouting Are you ready, captain? Captain Pedersen had indeed been ready, but the unexpected list had given him pause. It had given many of the crew more than paused for before the passengers became aware of impending danger or could do anything about it, many of the Eastland's crew clambered over the rail and jumped for the dock. Then, suddenly, as though the spectacle of his men abandoning ship had released a mental block, the captain shouted from the starboard bridge wing, opened the inside doors and let the people off. But it was too late At 7.23, with the words of warning barely out of her master's mouth, the Eastland increased her list to port 25, 30, 35 degrees, and still going over 35 degrees, and still going over.

Natalie Zett:

By this time tons of water were pouring in open ports and the three big open gangway doors on the riverside—passengers furniture, picnic campers, benches, refreshment stands, popcorn machines, barrels of lemonade and boxes of candy slid into the piles on the port side amid a dreadful, overpowering volume of yelling and screaming. Over she went until she was flat on her port side on the river bottom. Only about eight feet of her starboard side remained above water, giving her the appearance of a great stranded whale. Over on the Theatre Roosevelt, where the crowd had gathered five feet deep at the rails to watch the Eastland depart, the officers were faced with incipient panic. Women, fainted by the dozen others, were shrieking hysterically. Men foolishly went about throwing overboard anything that would float, although this could only be a symbolic gesture of help to the hundreds of bobbing heads around the capsized ship. The Roosevelt's officers sternly quieted the men and ordered everybody to the lower deck, where most of the sights were obliterated, but not the horrifying sounds. Many bolted out the gangway and rushed across the bridge to assist in rescue work. A few hundred people, most of them from the upper deck, had managed to clamber over the starboard rail to find safety on the slippery plates of the exposed side.

Natalie Zett:

But the waters around the ship were teeming with men, women and children fighting frantically for their lives, teeming with men, women and children fighting frantically for their lives, shouting, thrashing and clutching at anything afloat, even their fellow victims. So fierce was the struggle for survival that some of those pulled to safety had their clothes stripped off by the clawing of others seeking to stay afloat. Another precious moment. Above all the cataclysmic scene, there was a great and dreadful wailing sound, as the cries and pleas of the drowning blended in a terrible symphony with the moans and apprehensive shrieks of those who stood helplessly on the deck or watched in disbelief and torment from the other excursion vessels. Already, the mortal remains of those who had quickly lost their fight for survival were beginning to drift slowly down the river in a modest current. What little help could be forthcoming? Quickly was a spontaneous reaction. The lineman on the tug Kenosha had severed the tow line with a single stroke of an axe when the Eastland started over. Now, its captain, realizing that the tug's powerful propeller would do more harm than good in the maelstrom of the thrashing humanity, quickly backed his vessel against the now horizontal bow of the stricken steamer, letting his bow swing over to the dock, thus forming an impromptu bridge over which many of those passengers who had gained the upper side of the Eastland got ashore without even getting their feet wet. Ironically, the single lifeboat that drifted away from the wreck was picked up with one passenger, a red-haired boy of six, whom someone had apparently rescued and hoisted over the side.

Natalie Zett:

We'll continue next week with this. While this is not a primary source, this is an incredible secondary source, don't you agree? Source, don't you agree? And this particular chapter is very seldom cited as a source for Eastland disaster history, except by George Hilton. Of course. I would expect no less from him, because he is a scholar and very conscientious and ethical. And there's one other article that cited this chapter in this book as a source for one of their articles and I will share that with you next week because it's quite a story and it's never been shared as far as I can tell. Here's the thing Just because a source isn't cited, that doesn't mean it hasn't been used.

Natalie Zett:

For example, in another couple of publications I have seen things that appear just appear to be paraphrasings of this book and I want to bring that to your attention because credit does matter, integrity matters, particularly with something like the Eastland disaster, where source citation has been hit or miss in the past and also this. He's no longer alive, but for all of his hard work Dwight Boyer deserves to be recognized. That's it for this week. We'll continue with Dwight's chapter and another article that talks about Dwight's chapter. Take care of yourselves and take care of each other.

Natalie Zett:

I'll talk to you next week. 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, ebook, 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.

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