Found on the pages of The Chicago Tribune, these are just some of the events that
occurred in Chicago on this date as the great city grew . . .
May 4, 1885
At 11:05 p.m. on the night of May 3 a fire
alarm sounded, sending the men of Engine Company 17 to the corner of Clark and
South Water Street. By the time the
firefighters arrived, fire had broken through the roofs and windows of 161, 163
and 165 South Water Street. All three
buildings dealt in produce, fruits and vegetables.
A second alarm was sounded, and a half-dozen
“steamers” traveled to the site of the conflagration. Early in the fight ten men from Engine
Company 17, along with personnel from Chemical Number 1, Engine 9 and Hook and
Ladder 1, entered No. 163 and began to operate from the third floor,
extinguishing embers from the floor above them as they dropped. At some point the upper floor gave way
directly over the heads of the firefighters, who found themselves “engulfed in
a mass of debris, consisting of everything from 6 x 4 joists to bales of hay
and cases of eggs.”
Marvin Mulvey, working with Truck No. 1, was
buried six feet deep in crates, barrels, and cases. Charles Bird, working alongside Mr. Mulvey
was also buried in the debris. Fifty of
their comrades climbed ladders and came to the aid of the two men, but the
efforts proved fruitless as both men had been crushed by the weight of the
debris.
Mr. Mulvey was 25-years-old, unmarried and
lived on Lincoln Street between Indiana and Ohio. Mr. Bird was 32-years-old and had been with
the department for two years. From his
work on the ladder he had earned the nickname of “Rushing Charlie”.
At some point during the tragedy the horses
drawing Truck No. 3 broke loose and charged up South Water Street to LaSalle
Street where they ran smack into a streetcar.
The loose team knocked down the horses drawing the streetcar, seriously
injuring one of them. Fortunately, no
passengers aboard the car were injured.
May 4, 1893
 |
| Ignacy Jan Paderewski |
Just four days after the Worlds Columbian
Exposition opened, there was big excitement as the great Ignacy Jan Paderewski
appeared at the fair on his way to New York where he would sail for Europe
within a week, taking with him $160,000 from his concert tour of the United
States. While in Chicago he played two
concerts at the Fair’s Music Hall.
It was a raw day, and the room was cold and
draughty. Men kept their hats on and
“their overcoats pulled about their ears”.
Women were wrapped in sealskin cloaks.
Theodore Thomas conducted the orchestra. Mr.Thomas was noted for his tempestuous
nature, and the guards at the doors refused to let anyone enter while the
maestro was conducting. The Tribune reported, “After Thomas once raised his baton or
Paderwski struck the first trembling note on the piano, no power on earth could
force an entrance into the hall until the applause began.”
At one point the Fair’s Director of Works,
Daniel Burnham, tried to enter during “the wildest raptures of a Hungarian
rhapsody.” He was stopped and “not until
he displayed three or four kinds of bronze medals did the dignity of his
presence overcome the fear of the wrath of rebuke of Theodore Thomas.” The great architect was forced to stand until
the piece was concluded.
When the great pianist and the orchestra began
their final number the women “rose from their seats and waved handkerchiefs
above their heads, while from the men came a steady salvo of cheers.”
Paderewski left the fair in grand fashion. An electric launch was waiting for him in the
grand basin in front of the Manufactures Building when the musician appeared
with Conductor Thomas and Daniel Burnham.
A “whole bevy of young women” rushed the water’s edge, to whom the
pianist “raised his small silk hat and smiled upon them in a weary way as
though altogether tired of homage and adulation.”
The motor launch moved along the basin, rounded
the gold figure of the Republic, and turned into the north lagoon, all the
while with young women following its course on the banks, “running and
stumbling over each other in their efforts to wave a last long, soulful adieu”
as the great pianist, sitting in the stern of the boat, disappeared into the
“gray mist which hung over the waters of the north lagoon.”
* * *
* *
In contrast to the magic of the concert there
were some practical considerations regarding the fair that were aired on this
date. The Tribune bemoaned the fact, for example, that there was hardly
any public seating in the Exposition grounds.
“A good plank well situated for a bench will anywhere be filled with
ladies who have little regard for their dry goods when their backs are breaking
in two,” cried the editorial. The paper
surmised that there were so few benches because roller-chairs were being rented
at 75 cents an hour. After all, why give
something away for nothing when you can get six bits for it? The paper’s advice
. . . “No one is really well equipped for a visit to the grounds unless he
carries a lunch-basket and a camp-stool.”
* * *
* *
The paper also decried the “ill kept” condition
of the toilet-rooms within the great buildings of Jackson Park. “The free rooms in many of these buildings
are in an offensive and discreditable condition,” said the editorial. Once again, money seemed to be at the root of
the problem. Apparently, as one strolled
around the grounds of the great fair, it was clear that there were twice as
many paid toilets as free ones. In the
Fine Arts and Fisheries Buildings there were no toilets at all.
More importantly, though, the paper bemoaned
the “extremely offensive and unsanitary condition” of the free toilets. They were cleaned in the morning and
apparently received no further attention until the fair closed at night. Most had no ventilation; facilities with windows
had the windows fastened down. “As a
sanitary company derives a revenue of $60 to $75 from each of its closet-rooms
it looks as if it might afford to keep the free closets in better connection,”
the editorial declared.
The paper also took the sanitary company to
task for going into the advertising business with its concession, a “manifest
impropriety.” The editorial stated, “Large
frames have been hung up containing panels for renting purposes. This is a complete departure from the rules
governing the grounds and buildings everywhere else, and ought to be put a stop
to if unauthorized.”
* * *
* *
 |
| The view from the Manufactures Building at the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition |
Despite the glitches, the 1893 fair was still
an unbelievably impressive affair. This
was clearly displayed when a reporter from The
Tribune climbed to the top of the clock on the Manufactures Building and looked
over the vast exposition as it underwent its finishing touches.
In the Manufactures Building alone one hundred
carloads of exhibits had been delivered in the preceding four days. Significant among this material was a
collection of clavichords, spinets and harpsichords, including pianos owned by
Haydn, Bach and Mozart.
 |
| Machinery Hall--interior |
Machinery Hall was nearing completion, and it
was expected that steam would be turned on within a day, so that the great
engines would begin turning. David S.
Dickinson, the Superintendent of Installation in the Transportation Building,
reported that the exhibits were complete with the exception of three French
locomotives.
Seven carloads of orange and lemon-bearing
trees had been received on the preceding day for display in the California
exhibit in Horticultural Hall. The erection
of the orange tower and Liberty Bell, both completely made of oranges was
expected to be finished on this day. Over
at the Mines and Mining Building one of Maryland’s contributions, a single
piece of coal weighing eighteen tons, was installed.
In a surprise move the Fine Arts Building was
opened on May 3 even though exhibits continued to arrive, principally from
France and Italy, in great cases. The
work was far enough along, though, so that it was announced that visitors would
be admitted to the building, which is now the Museum of Science and Industry,
every day at 9 a.m.
* * *
* *
Visitors on the previous day included R. N.
Barr, Superintendent of Motive Power for the Chicago, St. Paul and Milwaukee
Road. The widow of General Custer and
the general’s sister, Mrs. Margaret Custer Calhoun, also attended. Lambert Tree strolled the Midway Plaisance
with a party of friends. W. J. Campbell,
a member of the Republican National Committee, lit a 40-cent cigar after taking
his lunch, when a member of the Columbian Guard informed him that there was to
be no smoking on the grounds. After
mildly protesting, the official extinguished his stogie.
And The
Tribune reported an amusing piece of conversation when a “fashionably
dressed Londoner” approached a fair official at the Bureau of Railway
Information.
“Ah, I thought you might be kind enough, as
your lines penetrate every part of the country, to tell me which one goes near
some land I own,” the Londoner began.
“Where is your land,” inquired the official.
At this point the Englishman called to his
“man” to produce papers describing his property, whereupon it was discovered
that the land was in the Argentine Republic.
“I own
stock in many of these American Railways,” the guest explained. “And I thought, you know it would be a jolly
scheme to go out on one of them and see my land.”
“We cover this country,” replied the official,
“but haven’t completed the line to South America yet.”
May 4, 1920
In one of the preceding week’s news dispatches The Tribune took its readers on a tour
of the Chicago State Hospital for the Insane in Dunning. On this date in 1920 the paper covered the
stabbing of John A. Carboy, the president of M. J. Corboy Plumbing Company at
his home at 5131 Ingleside Avenue. Mr.
Corboy was attacked by his maid, a former inmate at the Dunning institution.
“She came to us well recommended and she was a
good worker,” said Mr. Corboy. “She was
up early in the morning and worked late at night. But she had a violent temper, so we decided
to discharge her.”
The fracas started during dinner at which the
girl “showed another fit of temper” as Mr. Corboy was entertaining guests. She was forcibly ejected from the house, but
she returned later, found a butcher knife and encountered Mr. Corboy in the
hall. Hurling a glass fruit dish at the
startled owner with the knife behind her back, she managed to swing the knife
around and slash Mr. Carboy’s back.
Examined by Dr. William J. Hickson, the maid
exclaimed, “If I had had a revolver I would have killed him! He made me sore.”
Later, as policemen were escorting her through
the LaSalle Street exit of City Hall to the patrol wagon, she “jerked off her
hat and sprinted up the street.” But the
usual traffic jam at Randolph Street allowed the policemen to overtake her.
May 4, 1931
It was announced that Evanston police were
planning on making “serious war on the kind of bathing suits that are built to
let in the maximum of sunlight rather than to display a minimum of skin.”
According to Policewoman Georgianna Juul all
female bathers must have skirts on their suits and covering on their backs. “The one piece streamline model is to be
regarded as illegal for both men and women,” Ms. Juul said.
* * *
* *
As the length of swimming suits was coming
down, so, too, was the price of living.
Since 1929 the price of meat had been reduced by 30%, and fruit was half
the price of a year before. Developers
asserted that the price of home construction had decreased by 20% so that “the
man who began figuring on a $12,000 bungalow a year ago may now build the house
of his dreams for $9,000.
The president of the Chicago Medical Society,
James Harger, stated that physicians were caring for 50% more charity cases
than a year before and that hospital fees were 25% lower than they were in
1929. “Reputable physicians,” said Dr.
Harger, “have always adjusted their fees to the patient’s ability to pay. In the present situation, this means that the
average doctor is performing fifty per cent more charity work and scaling down
his fees at least 25 per cent on paying patients. The lower prices on food sand medicines have
been reflected in the lowering of hospital charges.”
May 4, 1954
The Tribune reported that the
Union League on the preceding day had wired Vice President Nixon, the presiding
officer of the Senate, that it “considers that the McCarthy-army hearings are
detrimental to the best interests of the country.”
In the telegram the Union League stated “We
condemn the rules under which the Senate hearing is being conducted. We believe the proceedings have an
unfavorable reflection on our legislative processes, that they needlessly and
harmfully detract form the dignity of the United States Senate, and hold up to
ridicule both the United States Senate and our army.”
* * *
* *
Also on this day the French high command
announced that Viet Minh forces had launched another heavy assault on the west
side of the embattled fortress at Dien Bien Phu. Hundred of Russian-made trucks were spotted
moving into the hills, just one night after the Viet Minh troops called off
their third big assault.
The 24-hour halt in fighting allowed the 11,000
defenders at Dien Bien Phu to rest and receive air-dropped supplies. During this time the French dropped fresh
paratroopers, ammunition and other supplies into the fortress.
The 14,000 ton Bois Belleau, which was formerly
the United States carrier Belleau Wood before it was turned over to the French
the preceding September, arrived off Haiphong with new squadrons of
replacements and bombers to aid the depleted defenders.
May 4, 1965
 |
| Hancock Center (JWB, 2010) |
Although the First National Bank of Chicago
announced the plans for its new building first, the 100-story John Hancock
center got underway on this day because the Hancock site involved far less
razing work than the First National site in the middle of the Loop that
required the demolition of three huge buildings, including the Morrison Hotel.
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