A circus tragedy lost to history
A passing reference in 'Water for Elephants' reopens a tragic — but largely forgotten — chapter in Chicago history, and leads to the true story behind a mysterious memorial
The scene of The Hagenbeck-Wallace train crash in which a military train crashed into the The Hagenbeck-Wallace circus train. (Courtesy Circus World MuseumRobert L. Parkinson Library)May 2, 2011
By Christopher Borrelli, Tribune reporter
May 2, 2011
Richard Lytle tapped his cane against Mary Rudnick's headstone. "She was a performer," he said, reading the name on the grave. "Equestrian tricks, I want to say." The morning was wet and cold, and clumps of spring snow flattened the grass. He wore sandals and socks, and pulled his black satin jacket across his chest. He tapped on another grave. "Baldy," it read. Like the other headstone, it was dated June 22, 1918.
Lytle thought for a moment, then spoke. "Baldy was a driver," he said. "Probably. Nobody knows for sure. That's why it just says 'Baldy.' Most of these people couldn't be identified. Because of the fire, of course."
Or rather, most of these people couldn't be identified because of the train wreck, which led to the fire.
Lytle thought for a moment, then spoke. "Baldy was a driver," he said. "Probably. Nobody knows for sure. That's why it just says 'Baldy.' Most of these people couldn't be identified. Because of the fire, of course."
Or rather, most of these people couldn't be identified because of the train wreck, which led to the fire.
It's one of the Chicago area's great forgotten entertainment tragedies, and the irony is that we probably wouldn't even be standing here, in a cemetery on a cold day, considering its victims, if the accident hadn't received a mention in the best-selling novel "Water for Elephants" and the new movie adaptation, which opened April 22."The Hagenbeck-Wallace train, before the accident," says Hal Holbrook in the opening scene of "Water for Elephants," playing an aging circus hand scanning a wall of photographs, each an image from a long-gone circus, as his eyes well up.
Lytle is a librarian at the Hammond Public Library. He is 63, and last year he wrote "The Great Circus Train Wreck of 1918." Most of its victims are buried here, in this cemetery. As if to illustrate the severity of the disaster, he swung his cane, ringmaster style, underlining what was evident: He was surrounded by rows of graves but only a dozen or so of the headstones had names. The rest had a generic identifier: "Unknown." There was "Unknown Male No. 15," "Unknown Female No. 43" — all the way up to "Unknown Male No. 61."
There are rumors about this place, just off of Cermak Road in Forest Park, just inside Woodlawn Cemetery, a plot bordered by five granite elephants, each with its right front foot on top of a circus ball.
Indeed, if you grew up around here, chances are you know the rumors better than the facts: You probably heard that the stone elephants in Woodlawn mark the graves of five elephants, casualties of a long-ago Forest Park circus train derailment. As legend has it, the elephants, who used their trunks to extinguish burning circus cars, only to die as heroes, were too heavy to be moved and were buried near the spot where they fell. The Brookfield Zoo is down the street; animal sounds occasionally carry through the air here. Nevertheless, ghosts of elephants (never) buried in Woodlawn Cemetery are said to trumpet late at night.The facts are more harrowing.READ MORE AT:http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-live-0503-showmens-rest-elephants-20110502,0,5998226.story
No comments:
Post a Comment