One of those Fourth of July accidents that are always looked for but
seldom occur, happened at Racine, Monday night, which struck terror to
the hearts and other portions of the bodies of many eminent citizens,
and that none were killed we can all thank Providence, who tempers the
fire-works to the sweaty citizen in his shirt sleeves. The enterprising
citizens had contributed a large sum of money, which had been
judiciously expended in all kinds of fire-works, and one side of the
public square was given up to the display.
Thousands of citizens had gathered there, from city and country, and
bright Roman candles shone o'er fair men and brave women, and sixteen
thousand nine hundred and twelve hearts beat happy, while music arose
with its voluptuous swell, and soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake
again, or words to that effect. At least that was what a young fellow
from Racine told us, who was there to see a specialist to have a
splinter from a rocket stick removed from his ear.
A few pieces had been shot off, a few bunches of crackers had had their
tails tied together and been hung over a wire clothes line, like cats,
to fight it out, and the crowd was holding its breath for the next boom,
when there was an explosion; the earth seemed to tremble, and the air
was full of all kinds of fire-works. The whole supply of fire-works had
become ignited, and were blowing off where they listeth, without regard
to anybody's feelings.
The crowd became panic stricken, and there never was another such a
scene, and never will be until the last great day, when a few thousand
people suddenly find that they have got into hell, by mistake, when they
thought they were ticketed through to the other place. It was perfectly
awful. Prominent citizens who usually display great pluck, became
fearfully rattled.
A man named Martindale, a railroad man who weighs over two hundred
pounds, was standing near a telegraph pole, and as the firing commenced
he climbed up the pole as easy as a squirrel would climb a tree, and
when it was over they had to get a fire ladder to get him down, as his
pants had got caught over the glass telegraph knob, and he had forgotten
the combination, and besides he said he didn't want to take off his
clothes up there and come down, even if it _was_ dark, because it would
be just his luck to have some one fire off a Roman candle when he got
down.
The Hon. Norton J. Field was another man who lost his nerve. He was
explaining to some ladies one of the pieces that was to be fired off,
which was an allegorical picture representing the revolution, when the
whole business blew up. He thought at the time, that the explosion was
in the programme, and was just reassuring the ladies, by telling them
it reminded him of battle scenes he had witnessed when he was on the
military committee in the assembly, when he noticed a girl near him
whose polonaise had caught fire, and he rushed up to her, caught her by
the dress, intending, with his cool hands, to put out the fire.
The girl felt some one feeling, as she supposed, for her pocket-book,
and she started to run, yelling, “pickpocket,” and left the burning
polonaise in Mr. Field's hands. He blushed, and was about to explain to
his lady friends how the best of us are liable to have our motives
misconstrued, when somebody threw a box of four dozen of those large
firecrackers right at his feet, and they were all on fire. Ten of them
exploded at once, and he grabbed the polonaise in one hand and his
burning coat tail in the other, and started West on a run.
The steward of the Gideon's Band Club House, at Burlington, said he
arrived there at daylight on the morning of the 5th, and he still held
the pieces of dress, but the whole back of his coat was burned off, and
his suspenders just held by a thread. He said the comet struck the earth
at Racine, at 9:30 the night before, and knocked the town into the lake,
and he and another fellow were all that escaped.
The narrowest escape was that of young Mr. Oberman. He is a small man,
all except his heart and feet, and when the air began to fill with
patriotic missiles, he started to run. On passing the _News_ office he
had to jump over the old coal stove that stood there, and while he
was in the air, six feet from the sidewalk, a sky rocket stick passed
through his coat tail and pinned him to the building, where he hung
suspended, while other rocket sticks were striking all around him, Roman
candle colored balls were falling on his unprotected head, etc., and one
of these nigger chasers, that run all over the ground, climbed up the
side of the building and tried to get in his pants pocket.
Mr. Oberman begged Mr. Wright, the postmaster, to cut him down, but Mr.
Wright, who was using both hands and his voice trying to disengage a
package of pin-wheels from the back portion of his coat, which were on
fire and throwing out colored sparks, said he hadn't got time, as he was
going down to the river to take a sitz bath for his health.
The man that keeps the hotel next door to the _News_ office came out
with a pail of water, yelled “fire,” and threw the water on Mr. Curt
Treat's head. Mr. Treat was very much vexed, and told the hotel man if
he couldn't tell the difference between an auburn haired young man and
a pin-wheel, he'd better go and hire somebody that could. Friends of
Mr. Treat say that he would be justified in going into the hotel and
ordering a bottle of pop, and then refusing to pay for it, as the water
took all the starch out of his shirt.
Those who saw the explosion say it was one of the most magnificent, yet
awful and terrible sights ever witnessed, and the only wonder is that
somebody was not hurt. What added to the terror of the scene was when
they went to the artesian well to get water to put out the fire and
found that the well had ceased flowing. On investigation they found that
Mr. Sage, the Assemblyman, had crawled into the pipe.
By the way, Mr. Oberman finally got down from his terrible position by
the aid of the editor of the _Journal_, to whom Mr. Oberman promised
coal enough to run his engine for a year. Very few men displayed any
coolness except Mr. Treat and Mr. Sage.