Flower in the River: A Family Tale Finally Told

Catastrophe on the Chicago River — Part 2: The Archive Finds Keep Coming 

• Natalie Zett • Season 4 • Episode 149

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We journey deeper into "Catastrophe on the Chicago River," a century-old chronicle of the Eastland Disaster as seen through the eyes of Chicago's Czech community. Josef Mach Sr. crafts a living, breathing account of the capsized excursion ship, trading headlines and statistics for the intimate details of lives upended. This narrative names names, lists addresses and funeral halls, and traces the ache that rippled through the close-knit Czech neighborhoods of Chicago.

As we move through the recovered text, you’ll hear eyewitness detail: 

  • rescue stories
  • a man shouting “Jump!” to his family as the ship rolls
  • a piano shattering in a crowded cabin
  • workers using acetylene torches and cutting the hull while calls for help rise from below decks

The story traces the public rituals that shaped collective mourning: solemn processions winding past Masonic halls and freethought schools, wreaths stacked in fragrant towers, and Boy Scouts saluting an unknown child, "Boy 396," who, for a moment, became the city's own.

You'll learn why restoring provenance and footnotes is not a luxury in public history, especially since they've often been removed in later retellings of the Eastland Disaster. 

We also explore the cultural backbone that transformed sorrow into unity. The Sokol movement, which began in Prague and flourished in Chicago by the 1890s, wove communities together through gymnastics, choirs, discipline, and civic engagement. These bonds fueled the collective response after July 24, 1915.

This is archival recovery pulsing with life, where immigrant newspapers, neighborhood ties, and meticulous citations draw the past close enough to touch.

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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. Hey, this is Natalie, and welcome to episode 149 of Flower in the River Podcast. I hope you're doing okay. As promised, I will continue reading from Catastrophe on the Chicago River. If you recall, I began reading this very long article on Christmas Day, December 25th, 2025, which seems like it was years ago now. So I'll jump right in here. What I am about to read comes from a document that has a remarkable history of its own. The story of this particular document, it has had quite the ride. And it also is a case study which reveals as much about how history gets preserved, or in this case abandoned, as it does about the tragedy itself. This article, Catastrophe on the Chicago River, was written by a Czech American writer and poet, Josef Mach Sr., and it was published in the American Narodny calendar. The year it was published was 1916, so it was a year after the Eastland disaster. This was a Czech language periodical based in Chicago, which had a huge Czech immigrant population. There were so many people from the Czech community who worked at Western Electric and thus who were aboard the Eastland the day it capsized. The original article, the Czech language article, included over 141 photos of the various victims of the Eastland disaster. Many of these photos had not been seen since 1916, and given the way this history has been handled, they probably would not have been seen for a very long time, if at all. And of course, 1995 is the year that George Hilton published the definitive work about the Eastland disaster, simply called Eastland Legacy of the Titanic. Catastrophe on the Chicago River was translated and published in English in 1995. It appeared in a magazine called Najerodinia, which is a publication of the Czechoslovak Genealogical Society International. I'm not sure what it was about 1995 that brought all of this to life. The internet was still pretty new at that point, but it was there. These things that happened at the same time do fascinate me, and it would only be about three years after that that I discovered my own family's connection to the Eastland disaster. So the late 1990s were kind of hopping with this sort of thing. My experience with this particular document was locating it after doing research and then locating the original Czech language publication on a digital archive in Czechia. That's what I thought the provenance of the document was. But I was wrong about that. Let me tell you what I found. I have been in the midst of slowly restoring the website for the former Eastland Memorial Society. It is available on the Internet Archive, but it's kind of cumbersome to make your way through, and I realize it's not the most user-friendly experience, although, Internet Archive people, I am so grateful for you, grateful for the work you do. I saw the value even back then of the Eastland Memorial Society's website. For one thing, not only did they have wide coverage of the Eastland disaster from so many different angles, from the stories of survivors, from the stories of those whose families experienced loss, details about the ship, etc. I mean thorough, but here's the other thing. Since they footnoted everything, since you knew what the provenance was of everything, you could use this as a research tool, and so I have. Here's why I'm so adamant about restoring what I can of this website. Since the Eastland Memorial Society disbanded, there have been other websites devoted to the Eastland disaster, but none as comprehensive as this first one. That is one of the big reasons why I want to restore what I can of their website and also get mine up to speed, too. Okay, so how does this tie into this particular episode? Let me tell you, as I was looking at the old Eastland Memorial Society website, I noticed that they had a number of newspapers and magazines. I'd already seen many of them, so I didn't look at them too closely until a couple of weeks ago. They already had the English translation of catastrophe on the Chicago River. Yes, it was right there. Why was this valuable resource marooned in the past? Why was it not brought forward? This is yet another example of how the history of the history of the Eastland disaster is rather uneven, and it really is incumbent on somebody doing this research to examine everything and not take anything at face value, but to just keep researching. In some ways, you really do have to start over again. But as you can see, it's worth the effort. So we are picking up the story, part two of the article Catastrophe on the Chicago River by Joseph Mach Sr. Instead of happiness and joy, the participants encountered a nightmare of horror, tears, and death. Instead of funny plays, entertainment, song, dancing, contests, races, and sport matches, they were stricken by a catastrophe the like of which had never happened before in Chicago history. The ships were to depart from their mooring on the Chicago River near the Clark Street Bridge, in spite of the rain that started before 7 a.m. The people arrived from all sides, especially from the western suburbs of Chicago. Cicero, Morton Park, Czech, California, Hawthorne, and elsewhere. They were hastening aboard the ship that was to transport them to Michigan City, where they would spend a happy day. The Eastland was the first ship in the convoy scheduled to depart, and was soon filled up with passengers, male and female. All wore their Sunday best and all were in their rosiest mood. The ship was ceremoniously bedecked and the band was playing. The departure was scheduled for eight AM. The ship was filled up to its maximum capacity, and as was subsequently discovered, even more passengers were admitted than she could hold and was officially allowed. It was then noted that the ship was tipping and rolling appreciably, but no one seemed to be particularly concerned. Everyone believed that there was no danger, that this was the normal roll and rocking of a ship loaded to capacity. Then the eastland began to tilt to one side, that is, away from the riverbank toward the water. The thousands of spectators on shore were overtaken by fear that something terrible is about to happen. And among those aboard who derived enjoyment at first from the ship's motion and joked about it, a terrible panic started. Everyone now realized that the ship's roll is excessive and that they all feared for their lives. It was only a few seconds, but in that interval all aboard experienced fright and indescribable fear. The people on board were swept down the evermore tilting deck to one side, and in that instant the Eastland rolled over on its side. That was at 7 50 a.m. All passengers on both sides found themselves in the water. It all happened so fast that nobody had time to think about his own rescue. About 2,000 people were swept into the river, and those inside the ship in cabins, gambling room, etc., were imprisoned as in a horrible death trap. There was a despairing fight for life. Those who could swim strove to reach the river banks, but even that was not so simple in that mass of human bodies, adults and children, of whom each was concerned only about self-preservation. Those who could not swim grasped the swimmers, and thus it happened that many a good swimmer who otherwise could easily have reached the safety of the river banks, was dragged under by those who had hooked on to him into the depths and drown. Innumerable scenes full of ghastly horrors played out within a few minutes of the ship's overturning. Let's hear the testimony of an eyewitness and participant in the catastrophe, fellow countryman Vincent Dubick from five four two two two two two two two two two two zero West Twenty Sixth Street in Chicago's suburb, Cicero. As an employee of Western Electric Company, he was aboard the Eastland with his wife, Catherine, daughter, Catherine, and two sons, one fifteen and the other nine years old. Mr Dubeck with his nine year old sons saved themselves, but his wife, daughter, and older son drown. mister Dubeck states It was about seven AM when we went aboard, anxiously anticipating the trip across the lake. About seven forty five, the boat had already filled up to where there was hardly standing room. After a while the boat tipped to one side slightly toward the shore, and then leveled itself. We were seated by the very railing on the northwest side. It was seven thirty when the ship began to tilt toward the water. We suspected no trouble. However, when it seemed to be tipping too far and the people began to slip and fall out of their seats, I looked around and saw how high up the other side was. I shouted Jump into the water and already I was in the water. I spotted my younger son and swam to him. A wave of water passed over me for the second time, but by that time I was already holding the boy, and we reached the overturned hull floating on the river, on which we were saved. I looked around to find others of my loved ones, but found not one more. The river was carrying our hull toward the other ships, where they hoisted us up on ladders. I didn't see my wife, daughter, or son alive again. And such frightful tragedies were played simultaneously by the hundreds during the overturning of the Eastland. Although a line of larger boats, steamers and small dinghies were nearby, it was impossible for them to rescue those fighting for their lives in the water, where there were so many unable to keep their heads above the surface that everybody could not be helped. Anxious cries for help, screams of fear and fright, crying and moaning rose forth out of the mass of human bodies, fighting a desperate battle of death around the upturned hull of the ship, and body after body vanished beneath the swirling surface of the Chicago River. Those who saved themselves by swimming or were rescued by boats and dinghies comprised a relatively small group. However, those who remained below deck during the catastrophe fared even worse. Very few of those escaped with their lives. Many were in cabins when the ship overturned, initiating despicable terror and deadly horrors. Fellow countrymen, Bedrich Simonic, son of a renowned dentist in Chicago, who likewise was one of the passengers, described his frightful experiences, which he will now remember for the rest of his life thus. We sat below inside the ship where everyone was in a cheerful mood, looking forward to a good time. There were over two hundred of us. The ship started to dip and tilt to one side after about twenty minutes. We made fun of it at first, as we believed that this was the normal roll of the ship and was posing no danger. All at once it tossed us all to one side. The piano turned over and broke up, killing about twenty people. Everyone screamed and sought safety. The water entered the ship. I am a good swimmer and strove to keep my head above the surface. It was difficult. About six people were holding on to me, but also dragged me down. In fear they dropped me and sought rescue elsewhere. As a result, I was able to reach the surface again. I would gladly help others, but I couldn't, and I'm lucky to have saved my own life. I escaped through a window and swam to dockside, where I was hoisted by rope to street level, about fifteen feet. Most of the victims of the catastrophe were women and children. There were several cases where the entire Czech family fell victim. A good third of the victims were of Czech descent. Sympathy and mourning overwhelmed everyone who read or heard about the tragic end of the entire Sindalar family of seven. How the entire family of fellow countrymen, Navotny, found its tomb in the waves of the Chicago River, leaving their frail grandmother safe at home only to survive them with a broken heart. About the family of fellow countrymen Fenneck, all of whom fell victim to the Eastland. Perhaps the fate of the Cindilar family is the saddest of all. Mr. George J. Cindelar of four five three seven West Jackson Boulevard, a foreman at Western Electric, was aboard the ship with his wife, Josephine, and children Adele fifteen, Sylvia thirteen, George Junior nine, Albert seven, and William three. Not one of them returned from the excursion and all were retrieved from the river as cold corpses. It took several days to retrieve the bodies from the river, and on the third day following the catastrophe, the bodies of Mrs. Cindilar and Little William were found. The joint funeral service for the whole family, which was conducted on the 28th of July in the Masonic Hall on Oakley Avenue, was one of the saddest and most touching. Thousands of people came to honor the three large caskets for Mr. Cindilar's sister-in-law, Miss Regina Dolazal, who died with that family, and the five small caskets mounted on mourning catacombs bedecked with waves of flowers, wreaths, ribbons, and palms. Not a dry eye remained as caskets were born outside for transport to their final rest in the Bohemian National Cemetery. Another Czech family, all members of Which died in the overturning of the ship was the family of fellow countrymen, James Fenneck of five five two six West Twenty third place in Cicero. Mr Fenneck, his wife Marie, and children William and Helen lost their lives. A tragic end befell the family of fellow countryman, James Novotney, of five two seven West Twenty fourth place. His wife, Agnes, daughter Marie, and son William drowned together with him. The whole city mourned in sympathy over the sad end of this unfortunate family, and displayed interest everywhere, especially in little William, to the extent that it was the grandest and most beautiful funeral service of them all. By singling out this family, the city of Chicago, in its official representatives and ordinary citizens, symbolically paid their respects to the memory of all the Eastland victims. Little William's funeral and that of his relatives was so imposing because his body was recovered from the river very late, and it remained unclaimed in the armory of the Second Regiment for many days, identified only as three hundred ninety six. Nobody recognized this unknown boy, although thousands passed by his body. It was known, however, that William Novotny drowned, and the bodies of his parents and sister Marie were found and identified. All of Chicago was asking, Who is that boy No. three hundred ninety six? Until No. three ninety six was declared child of the entire city, and it was decided that the entire city would provide for him the grandest funeral. The Boy Scouts of America declared that they would enroll the unknown boy as their comrade, and they will attend his funeral en masse just as he had been a member of theirs. But meanwhile, on the 29th of July, that is a week after the catastrophe, the body, number 396, was identified by his schoolmates, Czech boys, Walter Check and Frank Rezebach. Also, Miss Alice Check identified William and likewise the boy's grandmother, Mrs. Martinik, who lived with the Novotny family. The Novotny family funeral was conducted on July 31st, under the care of the Czech Assistance Committee, and was one of the most beautiful Czech funerals of victims of the catastrophe. The funeral was conducted in the Czech Freethought School Voya Naperstik on Holman Avenue. It was attended not only by huge masses of Chicago citizens, but by representatives of the city of Chicago, headed by Mayor Thompson, and a long line of Czech and other nationality organizations. The coffins were mounted in front of the school on morning draped supports, and alongside them an abundance of wreaths, flowers and ribbons. All who so desired could gaze upon the faces of the members of the unfortunate family members to express their last words of condolence. The funeral was attended by Mayor Thompson, city state and even lodge officers, Sokal, young adults of both sexes from District Foinger Tears, the chorus of the National Social Organization, school children, Boy Scouts of America, members of various societies, the Czech Assistance Committee, and thousands and thousands of Chicago citizens, a lecturer's platform was erected in front of the caskets, from which spoke Mr. Zygmunt Chapotsky, President of the Court, Troknov No. 15, C A L N L, Mr. Janda for Lodge Vaselic Saucid, Mr. Havrenik, Dr. F. L. Smetanka, and Chicago Mayor W. H. Thompson. The vocal chorus sang the Czech national theme, Kede Domov Moi, where is my home? There was not one tearless eye, and everybody felt deep sympathy for the surviving, elderly grandmother, misses Martnik, as she wept bitterly over the caskets of her dearest ones. The streets were filled with people and all hearts surged with pulses of mourning and sadness. The caskets were loaded into two automobiles, and the funeral procession started to move. Motorcycle police headed the procession, followed by the police, bailiffs, marching band music, Sokol Juniors, a long line of lodges and organizations, judges, congressman Sabbath, and all Czech leading citizens representing city, county, and others. Two automobiles loaded with wreaths and flowers preceded the caskets. The Novotny family with little William was laid to final rest in the Bohemian National Cemetery. Fellow countryman Frank Dolazal of two eight zero two South St. Louis Avenue was also brutally stricken by the catastrophe. He left for the excursion with his wife, Josephine, daughters Mary and Ludmilla, a three year old son, Frank Junior, and mother-in-law, Mrs. Drenka. They all sat inside the ship. When the first wave of water rolled inside it hurled him against some kind of railing to which he clung. Mrs. Drinka likewise grasped the same railing, and so in doing saw her daughter, Mrs. Dolazal, disappear into the murky water with little Ludmilla and Mary. At the same time, Mr. Dolazelle heard the cries of his son, Frank Jr., and he successfully reached down and pulled him out of the water. Mrs. Dolazelle, with her two daughters drowned, and Mr. Dolazelle with Mrs. Drinka and his little son Frank were saved from the overturned boat, but with great difficulty because all kinds of threatening hazards. He found his wife and daughters later, in the morgue, dead. Hundreds of such terrible, heartrending scenes played out on the river and within the ship. These moments were so horrible that even those who were saved, especially those who witnessed the drowning of other members of their family, behaved like madmen. Many wanted to throw themselves back into the water and had to be forcefully restrained. Many women were stricken with hysterical seizures and wanted to commit suicide. Those were moments which the participants will recall with horror for the rest of their lives. As soon as the first reports of the incidents flashed, the police and fire departments undertook rescue work in feverish haste. Many passengers were pulled out of the river with the assistance of dinghies, ropes, lifesavers, or other means. From within the ship sounded agonizing screams, crying and calls for help. The firemen immediately started to cut open the ship's hull with acetylene torches to reach those trapped inside. Pull motors were brought up and first aid was administered to all rescued in the unconscious state. Most of them were transported to nearby hospitals. More than two hundred bodies were recovered from the river by noon, and the number kept rising steadily, ultimately reaching almost one thousand. So next week we will continue with Catastrophe on the Chicago River. It's a long article, as you can tell, but I hope you're getting something out of it. I hope that it's giving you a viewpoint from this particular community's experience of the Eastland disaster. So now I'm going to talk about some of the terminology and some of the things that came up in this article that might be new to you. Of course, those of us who have Czech and Slovak and even Russian background, we already know what the Sokol is, but I'll tell you a little bit about that in case this is new to you. So there was a movement called the Sokol. It means in various Slavic languages, Falcon. And it was founded in Prague in 1862 by Miroslav Tiers and Yindrich Fugner as a gymnastics-based organization that combined physical training with civic education, nationalism, and moral development. And by the late 1800s, the Sokol had spread to the United States, and Chicago became one of its strongest centers. By 1893, there were already 11 Sokol clubs in Chicago. That's a lot. And the various Sokal networks connected neighborhoods as well, such as the Pilson, Hawthorne, Cicero, and Czech California. They had people organizing choirs, marching in processions, turning out kids in uniform, and giving the community a shared language of sacrifice, discipline, and solidarity. And something like the Eastland disaster happened, it solidified them even further and gave them a sense of support and community. So the Sokol does go on. I am still a member. My father before me was also a member. And we have one just down the street from where we live in St. Paul. So that's pretty cool. They also referenced a neighborhood called Czech California. That's in Chicago, not the state of California. Cheska, California was the Czech name for the large Bohemian neighborhood centering on 26th Street and California Avenue in South Lawndale. So that's that area. Never heard of it, but it was not too far, ironically, from where my Eastland family lived. Now this is the German-Polish side of my family. They were also in South Lawndale on 23rd Street. By 1910, Czechs owned roughly 80% of the dwellings in this district, making it a primary center of Czech life, business, culture, and associational activity in Chicago. For modern audiences translating this shorthand, I'd say these were a people from a dense majority Czech neighborhood with its own institutions, schools, and funeral cultures. Now that's a key to understanding why the Eastland catastrophe hit quote unquote our countrymen so disproportionately and so personally. You're hearing the emotion, even in the translation, even 110 years after. That vibration is coming forth in Joseph Mock's writing. The one thing I noticed is that this account is so intimate. It's like we're being drawn into this inner circle. This piece is strikingly communal rather than sensational. As you can see in a lot of the dailies, the sensationalism was emphasized. So the author writes explicitly as a Czech American to other Czechs, our countrymen, he calls them. And he treats the disaster as a national and familial calamity. The writer goes to all the trouble of not just naming the people, but providing their addresses, providing their connections to one another, naming their survivors, things like this that create a much fuller picture of who these people were and how their deaths affected everybody in that community. Something that the mainstream press, because of the constraints they were under, they didn't have time or the awareness or knowledge to do this, by the way. The article sustains this tone that I noticed that I could actually feel of shared mourning, M-O-U-R-N-I-N-G, by the way, and they were describing Black Saturday, oceans of tears and the unending grief of parents and grandparents and other family members and neighbors, and repeatedly returning to the ongoing pain in the Czech neighborhoods days after the capsizing. This text remains inside the community, letting readers inhabit the living rooms, the morgues, the processional routes, and the internal turmoil of survivals in ways that are rare in the English language accounts. So, Catastrophe on the Chicago River, we will continue talking about it again next week. But I wanted to again reinforce the importance of this find. Thank you again and again for being part of this. Please remember to take care of yourselves and to look out for each other. Okay? Talk to you 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 www.flowerinthher.com. 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 nineteen fifteen. Goodbye for now.

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Natalie Zett

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