While researching my ancestors, I came across an obituary that included this line:

He was a survivor of the 1944 Hartford Circus Fire.

I’d never heard of this tragedy before. It’s a horrific yet fascinating tale.

On July 6, 1944, during a matinee performance of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus in Hartford, Connecticut, a carelessly tossed cigarette ignited one of the nation’s worst fires.

Of the approximately 7,000 fans who crowded into the huge big top on that miserably hot afternoon, 167 never made it home.

The reason? A cigarette. That, and the fact that the huge tent was covered in paraffin to water-proof it. And what was used to thin the paraffin as it was applied to the tent? Gasoline.

It seems once the tent caught fire, there was no stopping it.

A circus performer noticed the flames early on. He hollered to the bandleader, who immediately instructed the musicians to play “Stars and Stripes Forever.” This was the predetermined song to play to notify all the circus performers and workers within earshot that something was terribly wrong.

There couldn’t possibly have been enough exits for that big of a crowd to quickly escape the smoke and flames. And about half of the exits were blocked by huge cages containing circus animals waiting to perform.

All it took was 10 minutes for the wooden supports to burn, and collapse the canvas onto those desperately trying to escape. Some victims died from burns. Others perished from smoke inhalation. Many of the young victims were trampled to death.

There are many additional layers to this tragedy. One source for more information is the website CircusFire1944.com.

Remember the late actor Charles Nelson Reilly?

He was there. He was just 13 at the time. Years later, he said he rarely attended theater because the crowd sounds triggered memories of that awful day.

Here’s a clip about his experience from his autobiographical film, The Life of Reilly:

If you’d like to know more, Hartford’s public radio station put together a gripping 75th anniversary podcast last year, including an interview with an 88-year-old man who, as a little boy, escaped the inferno that day.

A future member of our family was there that day. He was an 11-year-old Hartford boy. His name was John. Years later, he married one of my mom’s cousins (on Grandpa Cassidy‘s side). John passed away in 2012, and unfortunately I don’t know any of his circumstances regarding that horrible day long ago. How did he escape? Who was with him? Did he know any of those who’d perished?

If I’m able to track down any information about John’s experience, I’ll be sure to update this post. Knowing that his obituary mentioned he was a survivor makes me think it was a childhood horror that he could never forget.

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