12/01/01

Let us listen to their stories
and marvel at the stubbornness of space
for the shtetl is everywhere
and our time is all time
(Immigrants)

On March 25, 1911, near closing time at the Triangle Shirtwaist Company, a fire broke out. The fire moved so quickly that workers were diving out of the ninth story windows as terrified New Yorkers looked on. When it was over, 146 of 500 workers had died in less than fifteen minutes. This was the worst factory fire in the history of New York City.

Now I sleep with windows wide open
but the room still smells of smoke
(Bessie Gabrilowich, survivor)

Ruth Daigon's book of poetry, Payday at the Triangle, exquisitely paints the portraits of the survivors and their stories. Each poem is a requiem, a kind of respectful procession into the heart of a horrible disaster. The text calls for us to never forget this disaster and in light of America's most recent tragedy on September 11, we understand the significance, the importance of telling and retelling the stories of fear and outrage, bravery and courage, and respect for the people who lived and died in this disaster.

Engine Co. 72 can't maneuver into place
We don't want to grind the bodies
They're spreading nets
But lives keep raining down
Smashing through bouncing on concrete
Fire nets useless Firemen helpless
Each falling body carries 11,000 pounds of force
And the girls jumped in pairs.
(The Firemen)

There are pictures of clippings from New York newspapers, photos of survivors and the firemen who did their best. These women were for the most part, recent Italian and European Jewish immigrants, looking for work, a better life, a more just life. What they found were greedy bosses who provided a workplace ripe for disaster.

We run a factory not a social club If we don't make
a profit we're out of business
So are they
A day's pay for a full day's work Not a second wasted
No one's late or they're docked
THIS IS AMERICA
(Blancke and Harris, the bosses)

Daigon conjures up the horror of management holding a door shut while the women on the other side push, trying their best to escape. The doors were locked and there was no escape. The elevator made one trip. The fire escape broke. Among the ashes were hundreds of dreams gone, gone because labor is cheap and women are expendable.

The chilling images Daigon's poetry brings to life creates a kind of living history that ought to be required reading in any American History class. The Triangle Shirtwaist Fire needn't of happened. We know that this fire remains one of the most important symbols of American labor movement and worker concerns for health and safety. Daigon's Payday at the Triangle is a moving and thoughtful tribute to those who lost their lives and loved ones in this horrendous disaster.