Originally published in the Forverts, April 6, 1911. A thousand tears spilled at the funeral of the seven unidentified bodies. As long as no one was able to identify the charred-to-cinders departed, the city honored them. Graves were prepared for them at Evergreen Cemetery. And yesterday at 2 p.m., the same time when 120,000 of…
Originally published by the Forverts on April 6, 1911 In the midst of a downpour, 120,000 men and women participated in the largest march that New York has yet seen. Hundreds of thousands fill the streets. The silence that dominated the ranks made the biggest impression. Hysterical crying when the marchers approached the ruin where…
Originally published in the Forverts, March 27, 1911 She Had Picked Out Everything For Her Engagement Photo With Her Fiancé Parents of the 21 year old Violet Shekhter thought that shortly they would lead their daughter to the khupe [wedding canopy], but instead they lead her corpse home. In a few weeks hence she was…
Originally published in the Forverts, March 29 ,1911 A fiddle hangs on the wall, but the hand which played it is lying somewhere, a piece of coal. Among the 30 bodies in the morgue it has not been found. Let us go to the second room in 78 Clinton Street, where the family Rosen lived,…
Originally published in the Forverts, March 27, 1911 The sun shines down from a clear sky and a fresh warm breeze blows. But the entire area around 26th Street, where the morgue is located, is in grief and mourning. The blocks around First Avenue through Second and Third Avenues are a turbulent sea of people,…
Originally published in the Forverts, March 28, 1911 A closet full of wedding clothes. Standing by the closet, as if beside a holy Torah ark, are Yetta Goldstein’s two brothers, choking on their tears. They hug each other. One of them yells out: “If there was even one little bone left for us to identify…
Originally published in the Forverts, March 30, 1911 “I wanted to dash back in and warn my girlfriends, but the crush of people pushed me aside and I never saw them again — never saw them again!” Frantically, Miss Ray Cohen of 224 Delancey Street sobbed these words to the Forverts reporter. Miss Cohen worked…
Originally published in the Forverts, April 2, 1911 Come home, my daughter, come back home A man has told us about America That the factories are not safe there That it’s dangerous to ride the iron-train. People live there on the fifth floor — what a fright! And a person’s life is not worth a…
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