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 enterprizing 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 here 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.
[Illustration: MARTINDALE CLIMBS A POLE.]
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 the
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 an 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 assembly man, 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.