9

[The following is took place during the rescue efforts following the sinking of the SS Eastland. Context for the disaster, courtesy of Wikipedia: “The SS Eastland was a passenger ship based in Chicago and used for tours. On July 24, 1915, the ship rolled over onto her side while tied to a dock in the Chicago River. A total of 844 passengers and crew were killed in what was the largest loss of life from a single shipwreck on the Great Lakes.” Here, a local man named Robert Magnussen, whose family was aboard the Eastland when she capsized, has entered an emergency morgue located in a nearby armory, for the purposes of identifying his family’s remains.]

Magnussen shuffled through a vestibule and into the main drill hall. The central room reeked of death and disinfectant, and filled with a low din of whispers. Bodies lined the floor in narrow rows, less than thirty-six inches between the heads of one row and the feet of another, allowing only enough space for a single viewer to pass. Magnussen started down the first aisle when his world suddenly collapsed.

The body of his wife lay in the first row. The sob blurted out of Magnussen without warning as he gazed down at her. Attendants hurried to him and held him by the arm as though he might collapse at any moment. His voice, barely audible, uttered her name repeatedly, tears starting to track down his face. Notations went into logs as Magnussen continued down the row of victims.

”On he went bravely,” wrote the Tribune. “While passing another row he stopped again. There was Robert, Jr. Magnussen’s knees weakened under him; his eyes were blind with tears; but there was still another.”

Somehow Magnussen willed his body to keep moving. He passed row after row of nameless victims. Finally, at the end of the last row, he found the crumpled body of his daughter Irene. It was too much for him and he collapsed. A policeman rushed over and held the grieving man upright. When Magnussen managed to get back on his feet, he turned and stumbled across the hall toward a group of officials standing near an embalming table. Deputy Coroner Samuel Davis came forward and tried to calm the grieving father. Magnussen had difficulty speaking but managed to make a request that the bodies of his wife and children be gathered together. It wasn’t right hat they were so far apart. The deputies nodded, and hurried across the room to comply.

”His wish fulfilled,” reported the Tribune, “he knelt down slowly beside the three and prayed.”


Source:

Bonansinga, Jay R. “Chapter Fifteen – The Rustle of His Spectral Robe.” The Sinking of the Eastland: America's Forgotten Tragedy. Citadel Press, 2005. 174-75. Print.


Further Reading:

SS Eastland

[**The following is took place during the rescue efforts following the sinking of the *SS Eastland*. Context for the disaster, courtesy of Wikipedia: “The SS Eastland was a passenger ship based in Chicago and used for tours. On July 24, 1915, the ship rolled over onto her side while tied to a dock in the Chicago River. A total of 844 passengers and crew were killed in what was the largest loss of life from a single shipwreck on the Great Lakes.” Here, a local man named Robert Magnussen, whose family was aboard the *Eastland* when she capsized, has entered an emergency morgue located in a nearby armory, for the purposes of identifying his family’s remains.**] >Magnussen shuffled through a vestibule and into the main drill hall. The central room reeked of death and disinfectant, and filled with a low din of whispers. Bodies lined the floor in narrow rows, less than thirty-six inches between the heads of one row and the feet of another, allowing only enough space for a single viewer to pass. Magnussen started down the first aisle when his world suddenly collapsed. >The body of his wife lay in the first row. The sob blurted out of Magnussen without warning as he gazed down at her. Attendants hurried to him and held him by the arm as though he might collapse at any moment. His voice, barely audible, uttered her name repeatedly, tears starting to track down his face. Notations went into logs as Magnussen continued down the row of victims. >”On he went bravely,” wrote the *Tribune*. “While passing another row he stopped again. There was Robert, Jr. Magnussen’s knees weakened under him; his eyes were blind with tears; but there was still another.” >Somehow Magnussen willed his body to keep moving. He passed row after row of nameless victims. Finally, at the end of the last row, he found the crumpled body of his daughter Irene. It was too much for him and he collapsed. A policeman rushed over and held the grieving man upright. When Magnussen managed to get back on his feet, he turned and stumbled across the hall toward a group of officials standing near an embalming table. Deputy Coroner Samuel Davis came forward and tried to calm the grieving father. Magnussen had difficulty speaking but managed to make a request that the bodies of his wife and children be gathered together. It wasn’t right hat they were so far apart. The deputies nodded, and hurried across the room to comply. >”His wish fulfilled,” reported the *Tribune*, “he knelt down slowly beside the three and prayed.” ____________________________ **Source:** Bonansinga, Jay R. “Chapter Fifteen – The Rustle of His Spectral Robe.” *The Sinking of the Eastland: America's Forgotten Tragedy*. Citadel Press, 2005. 174-75. Print. ____________________________ **Further Reading:** [SS Eastland](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Eastland)

No comments, yet...