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Triangle Shirtwaist Fire

dr.dragonfish

dr.dragonfish

Member
Nothing can put a mind into a trance-state like the monotonous voice of a high school history teacher.

While we were learning about the Triangle Shirtwaist fire during the Industrial Revolution, I was doing my best to keep my head up from boredom. However, something the teacher said caused my breath to catch in my throat and I sat up rigidly as my mind was sucked far back into another life.

The air was muggy and hot, and I was in a room beside a girl who I swore was named something like Elsie. I was relatively new at the factory, and she was showing me the ropes. I was more fair skinned, while Elsie was olive skinned with dark black hair and a thin moustache. She was very kind and helpful, and was showing me how to do some sort of a stitch or something on white fabric. We were sitting at a long table together, surrounded by similar tables all around the giant room with other girls sewing, stone-faced. I was joking with Elsie about something when a very militant, heavy woman walked past. She exchanged some curt words with me about how to do my job. Beside her was this young, blonde girl who had been sucking up to the big woman. She was vapidly beautiful, I suppose, and she trailed along behind her giggling and talking. She stood with a smug, quiet smile on as the big woman reprimanded me, then went along after her as she did her rounds.
I am positively convinced that it was this woman who started the fire in the first place. She could get away with just about anything, and I believe I had seen her smoking, hidden behind a gigantic basket full of cloths. It is entirely possible that in order not to get caught (not that she'd be severely punished, she was the lap dog) she had hastily put the cigarette out...or so she thought.
I don't think I am being biased about this, I had an even more immense distaste for her than I should for just being the "teacher's pet" so to speak.
Once the fire was happening (I don't know if it was the same day or not) I was running frantically with Else, with nowhere to go. On the floor where we were, there was almost nothing, no machines, no other people, nothing. All there were were flames everywhere and nowhere to get out or get help. Else tried to go up a ladder, she didn't stay with me. I had to jump.

The weirdest part about this is that before I had ever had any sort of memory of the fire, I did have a memory of walking on the glass sidewalk, and being sidetracked by a man in a black suit and slicked back hair. He told me I was going to die, and I had a vision of blood on the glass sidewalk.

I don't know if there is an angel of death or not who would meet this guy's description, but either way, this is what happened to me. I had to calmly dismiss the information and go about the day. It's possible that it had happened after I had died. I don't know.

I told a close friend of mine about this after it had happened, and she got very quiet, then asked me if I think that this incident is why I am such a big feminist and advocate for the safety of all women. I laughed and said I had never thought that deeply into it, but it did make sense. I have also had nightmares about fire, and when I see parts of buildings that have been singed by flames, I get a deep dread in the pit of my stomach. I have no clues as to my own identity, though. I tried finding "Else" but I couldn't find a woman by that name. All I know is that I was probably an Irish immigrant and I was trying to support my family. I had a little brother. That's all I know about who I was then, but it's enough.

Thank you for giving me somewhere to share my memories. :D
 
I did see a documentary about the fire on TV not too long ago. It was dreadful.


Here is a link to a video I found, it is PBS, which is where I saw the full length one. I didn't watch this one, but it is probably the same.


Be warned, there are photos of dead girls lying on the sidewalk in the video. It is very sad. There is also a list of those that died and survived.


PBS VIDEO CLICK HERE


The victims that sound like Elsie:


Essie Bernstein - Age 19


She never left the building


INFO ON HER HERE


Tessie Caplan - Age 18


She likely jumped out of the building


MORE INFO AND PHOTO OF HER HERE


VICTIM LIST HERE
 
Thank you so much, I'll be sure to check this out tonight. Out of the two girls, from what I read, I think it was Essie. My heart broke when I read she never made it out of the building, I think it was probably her.
 
There was a glass sidewalk skylight that a body went through. Could that match your memory?
 
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I just finished the documentary--man, that was horrible. I was wondering to myself if it's possible that the memories aren't entirely accurate, and more based on personal experiences.


For example, when I thought of that room with no machines or people in it, just Ess and Me, do you think that we could possibly have been alone when there were so many people there, or do you think it's possible that it was kind of a retrospective experience, feeling completely wrapped up in myself in the panic of it all? It really struck me how the women were talking about pushing through other people, to the point that one woman had left her own sister to die as she escaped up an elevator. Can feeling alone be the same as remembering things as though you really were alone?


Also, I kept looking for the woman who I am convinced was smoking inside. I don't know if she was there because she worked there or if she was just visiting to kiss up to the two men in charge. Would they have had visitors who were not work related? Maybe even a prostitute such as the type they had hired to keep the women from protesting?


Another question I had while watching is, is it possible the person overseeing us was actually a man and not a woman like I remembered? Is the soul androgynous, can it be remembered or perceived differently after the fact of death, or could I have just remembered wrong? I still feel like it was a mean, heavy person who was bullying and reprimanding me, but I am not as sure now that it was a woman in charge of overseeing us or not, mainly because the documentary mentioned the foreman, not the forewoman.


I was struck by the body that went through the glass sidewalk. However I don't know if it was mine because I distinctly remember laying face-down looking at my own blood.


I am about to read the poem now. Thank you so much for these resources!
 
Away from the masonry wall and let her drop.


And then another. As if he were helping them up


To enter a streetcar, and not eternity.


From here on I feel immense grief.
 
Dr.dragonfish, I have read your comments with great interest. I also appreciate your circumspect analysis of what may or may not be your actual memories and I have often considered the same. While I discount as "my memories" all those that appear as simply views to a past, or just vignettes with no emotional charge, in my case, I have found the memories loaded with emotions and for which I feel actual judgment, or a desire to somehow correct the situation or wish I could have done it better, invariably are those that I own. In past life meditation, without exception, I find myself judging the lifetime I am reviewing...not necessarily in a negative way, but simply looking at it as an opportunity lost, or not used fully or simply a bad effort. From our meditational review we have the full picture and sense things about the situation of which our previous incarnate being was not aware, thus my judgment is strongly geared towards hindsight!
 
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